There have been so many good shows in the past week. Shit—the past few days even. The only problem is that they keep stacking up on the same nights and you can’t be everywhere at once. That said, I want to empty out the remaining pockets of my recent memory. Over the next few days I’m going to do that. Here’s the first:

SCHOOL OF LANGUAGE – Thursday, March 20 @ Towne Lounge

Sea From Shore is a terrific album. Front to back there isn’t a weak minute. If I owned the copy on record, it’d probably have worn out by now. David Brewis is an auteur in total control—he wrote and recorded all the parts himself.

That being the case, I entered the stuffy Towne Lounge wondering what I’d be in for. Would he have a band? Would they be up to it?

By God were they ever—tight as a fucking whip. Crisp, forceful, snapping drums and rollicking bass. It’s as if they were tied together—fishing line from the big toe on the bass-pedal strung right to the fingers on the bass strings. Perfect.

The two players are label-mates of Brewis’ from Chicago. Doug McCombs (of Tortoise and others) on bass, and Ryan Rapsys (of Euphone, Ambulette) on drums. Talking with McCombs afterwards, I was surprised to find they’d never played together before—it sounded as they had for ages.

Brewis is clearly a perfectionist on stage as much as in his recordings. He’d tap the distortion on for a second and a half then tap it quickly off again. Total precision, but the performance wasn’t at all stale. The band peppered in little extra bits, and Brewis , whose voice was on point despite having to swallow a few cough-drops, seemed to add bits of guitar that weren’t note-for-note replicas of the album. They were having fun.

There were anecdotes and interludes. The band apparently enjoyed their day in Portland. Brewis is very slight and quirky. It came as news to me he was British, but then it made total sense. He comes from Sunderland, the same city that gave us the Futureheads. And although Brewis’ pop is more textured and less aggressive, they are indeed similar. Notes and time are hardly ever wasted—the attention spans are short and every line is a hook. They are tight, angular and rarely explorative.

The set, like the album, was bookended by “The Rockist Part”, which worked without the big looping vowel sounds. As played the final version though, they stretched it out, pounding free and heavy, much more so than the album. They stomping improvisation took off like a rocket launch. If only it could’ve gone on longer…

And if only more people had been there to see it.

School of Language are a terrific live band rolling on a fabulous record. If you get the chance, don’t fuck it up—see them. I can only hope they return to Portland again so those who missed out get another chance. We’ll do our best to spread the word.

Just a few more tour dates, plus some songs here:

http://www.myspace.com/schooloflanguage