Coheed, Dashboard offer Katrina aid

By Casey Sky Noon

Violently elbowing past an assortment of biker dudes with waist-length ponytails, stereotypical skin-heads thrashing their skulls in anticipation of the pit breaking loose, as well as decked-out scenesters willing to bite through skin if distracted from their music, is a commitment front-row-floor-concert-goers must accept. However, the progressive rock/emo atmosphere at the Starland Ballroom on Wednesday, Sept. 28, was a different scene altogether.

The bands Dashboard Confessional and Coheed and Cambria played an acoustic benefit show to raise money for the victims of Hurricane Katrina and the rebuilding of the music and cultural center that was New Orleans.

In a scene as intense as any Ozzfest second stage, a swarm of well-dressed and rather petite girls stepped on each other’s feet politely pushing their way to the stage. Young guys and men alike dotted the crowd and lined the walls. Apparently, it was ladies’ night.
Hard-hitting, mosh pit inspiring Coheed played an upbeat yet mellow acoustic set with drummer Josh Eppard keeping a simple beat on a four-piece kit. Crowd surfers were replaced by amateur front women as the venue transformed into a campfire-esque sing-along. Singer Claudio Sanchez often gazed silently into the multicolor laser-lit venue for entire chorus reprises, letting the karaoke charisma characterize the entire set.

Sitting on wooden stools spread evenly across the front of the stage, the men of Coheed interacted with the audience as well as each other in an abnormally casual and therefore delightfully intimate fashion. Winking at fans and whispering about what song to play next, Sanchez kept the atmosphere laid back and personal.

Forty minutes later, the front row still could not get enough of Sanchez’s emotionally high-pitched wailing, which could be more appreciated without the regular resonance of an electric performance. Despite losing its edge and thus the charm of an emotionally melodic hard-core style that made Coheed and Cambria a familiar name, musically the band played an impressive set. Maintaining his notable groove, Michael Todd outdid himself on an old-style large-bodied acoustic bass. Meanwhile, Eppard maintained an animated level of energy (sticking his tongue out and making goofy faces), although he easily “walked” on the drum kit, as percussionists would say.

By the end, fans at the front of the stage refused to move even an inch. They waited, less than patiently, for Chris Carrabba of Dashboard Confessional.

After what seemed like an unnecessarily long time, a heavily tattooed man looking strikingly like James Dean strolled into the spotlight, barely noticing the hundreds of girls hyperventilating over his arrival.

Playing for almost an hour, Carrabba could have easily performed without singing a single lyric. The throng of young women overflowed from the floor, bar area, and both upper-side levels, and practically hung from the rafters. Countless fans cried and sang, however awful their voices were, wholeheartedly as if they were, at that moment, screaming their deepest, darkest denials alone to their steering wheels.

Mixing new with the beloved old repertoire gave Carrabba, dressed in black attire, a mature aura that was certainly lacking during previous tours. Sounding every bit like his recorded albums, Carrabba paced about the stage screaming about failed relationships without missing a single bitterly depressed note. He played with another guitarist, who followed Dashboard Confessional’s chord progressions exactly, adding very little besides a thicker tone, which could have been achieved with a 12-string.

Bowing once and quickly running off stage, Carrabba missed the crowd’s loud appreciation and incessant pleas for an encore.

Just outside, roadies packed equipment into Coheed’s tour bus. “This is way more suited for the benefit,” Sanchez said. “It also meshes better with Dashboard’s style.”

Guitarist Travis Stever, leaning on a bright yellow blockade, added, “We just go up there and have fun with it.”

However, Eppard admitted that he would rather play a normal show, nonetheless characterizing the benefit set as a way to “spice up a tour here and there.”

While many rebuked Starland for backwardly booking Coheed and Cambria as an opening act to Dashboard Confessional, no one complained about the combination itself. It brought together a diverse group of fans in order to collectively help the victims of Mother Nature’s indiscriminate wrath, despite differing race and/or musical tastes. Surprisingly, the unlikely hard-core and classic emo duet was perfectly suited for the philanthropic cause.