Pleaseeasaur, though strange, still hosts a good show
September 3, 2007
On Thursday, August 30, The House Café, 263 E. Lincoln Highway, hosted a strange but enjoyable evening of music that went from rock and roll to techno to comedy.
The headliner was perhaps the strangest act, Pleaseeasaur. Hailing from Seattle, the duo, consisting of performer/musician JP Hasson and projectionist Thomas Hurley III, they performed a set of short, surreal comedy songs.
The songs themselves were like a lounge singer’s version of TV show and advertisement jingles. The subject ranged from TV news, robots, stranger danger and chauffer service called, “No Prob Limo.”
Hasson dressed in several silly costumes and performed in front of two white screens on which Hurley projected slides of scenery and cartoon characters to complement Hasson’s comedic act.
Prior to Pleaseeasaur, DeKalb’s own Son of Starkiller, also known as NIU student Matthew Zingale, played his video game inspired techno.
Zingale’s set was delayed to a malfunctioning MP3 player, but with a laptop, a Korg keyboard, a smoke machine and colored lights, Zingale turned the coffee shop stage into dance club.
Dressed in black with sunglasses and a red cape, Zingale played up his stage persona by clapping along to his music and encouraging the audience to get up and dance.
He also promoted his upcoming CD release show on Friday, October 12, at Otto’s Underground, 118, E. Lincoln Highway.
Also wearing black suits was the band that opened, the Chicago rock quintet, the Sapiens. The band recently signed with HEYOU records, the label started by another DeKalb favorite, the Rikters.
It is clear to see what they saw in each other. Both bands play passionate rock music that constantly sounds like it’s on the verge of breaking into the mainstream.
The band’s manic energy recalled bits of the Hives and Hot Hot Heat. The band played through their latest EP, Vs. The Hornet as well as playing some new songs, which according to the lead singer were premiered in Indianapolis, “to a sold-out crowd … of eight people.”
The joke was in good fun; the Sapiens strike one as a band who would play like they mean it even if no one came to the show.