07/23 @ Saratoga Arts, Saratoga

“Talent exists everywhere; sometimes it just takes wandering into a local show to find it.”

Upon entering Saratoga Arts, a place I have never stepped inside despite living in the town, I walked through the canvas-filled walls unsure of what to expect of the night to come. I moved with slow rhythmic steps, tracing each wall with my eyes as I grazed the diverse collection of artwork, each confined to a small 10-by-10-inch canvas.

Textured brushstrokes of midnight seascapes and delicate closeups of a hummingbird grazing a flower for its nectar hung beside a 3D whimsical crochet cereal bowl, a clear display of jewelry, and a playful hand-painted graphic in bright colors reading, “DO NOT TOUCH.” The art, unified by their matching dimensions yet wildly diverse in medium and mood, led me down the corridor until concealed curtains blocked a dimly lit room beyond.

As I stepped inside, an employee stamped the back of my hand with a small black hedgehog before I ducked beneath the curtains into a room with black walls and dark floors. At the back stood a stage crowded with different instruments while TV screens atop the stage displayed the soundwave frequencies of the preshow music echoing through the room.

To begin the night, Griff took the stage backed by a four-man band. Lead singer Matt Griffin stood before a rack holding what looked like every guitar he could have possibly needed for this show, and even two more. They opened with “Wheels Spinning,” the first track from their newest album, Effortless Motion.

“We put it out on vinyl because of Saratoga Arts,” he said. “I got a grant… Can you believe that? I got a grant to make music.”

They followed it up with a few more songs from Effortless Motion, including “Spare Parts,” which Griffin explained was written about working on your car, before playing “Another Way,” my favorite of their set. The song opened with a slow swelling of instrumentals. The guitars and bass created an ambiance that made me feel as if I were floating. Behind the guitars and bass, soft rim clicks came from the drums maintaining tempo, serving as the backbone of the instrumentals. It became one of those rare moments where reality seemed to dissolve before me. That feeling stayed with me for the remainder of the show.

After Griff concluded their performance and a brief intermission passed, The Abyssmals took the stage, one of those bands that grounds you and reminds you that all great talent begins somewhere, even in a small town.

People my age, and even myself before writing for Metroland, can get caught up chasing artists with hundreds of thousands or even millions of listeners, often overlooking local music. What we forget is that every one of those artists started exactly like this, playing in local venues. Talent exists everywhere; sometimes it just takes wandering into a local show to find it.

When The Abyssmals walked onto the stage, lead singer Japron Reyes looked as though he had stepped right out of the 1970s. His hair, mustache, round glasses and outfit, gave him the look of a classic rock frontman. Every member of the band fit visually, complementing the psychedelic rock sound they were about to unleash.

They didn’t introduce themselves nor explain who they were. One. Two. Three. Beat by the drumsticks.

Then “Strange Invitations,” from their newest album No Pretty Face,began. As Reyes sang, he danced in place, moving with the same effortless energy that matched the vintage physical appearance. To his right, guitar and vocalist Bob Forget layered long, sustained “oohs” beneath the melody creating a harmony that sent chills down my spine. It reminded me of the psychedelic rock that feels increasingly rare today, where every voice and instrument seems to melt together into one sound.

They followed with “Vision of the Night,” a song whose instrumentals brought no other word to my head than inquisitive. It felt as if each instrument was searching for something, asking a question before another answered it, building and releasing tension each time.

“El Rey Feo” followed, sounding as if it was actually written in the ‘70s; it had everything one would expect from that era of psychedelic rock. Often when bands try to replicate the past, it still feels too “modernized” and can’t encapsulate what the music actually was back then. But with The Abyssmals, it felt natural, like this was simply the music they were meant to make.

After The Abyssmals wrapped up, the headliner, Pearl and the Oysters, took the stage. Before they even appeared, the crew wheeled a massive grand piano out into the crowd. Then they placed one of those creepy cymbal clapping monkeys at the edge of the stage right in front of me, a nod to the band’s newest album, Monkey Mind.

Pianist and backing vocalist Joachim Polack sat down at the piano and started playing a short riff, looking up at his partner, Juliette Pearl Davis, who stood above him on stage with an electric guitar in her hands, smiling down at him. Then, almost as quickly as it arrived, the piano was wheeled away. It was there for nothing more than a grand entrance, pun intended.

Once Polack climbed back on stage, they opened with “Wide Awake” from Monkey Mind. The audience watched in complete awe at Davis’s ability to multitask. Throughout the night she bounced between vibraslap, bar chimes, a flute, guitar, maracas and the massive controller board in front of her, all while singing and dancing, never once missing a beat — I don’t think she stood still for more than a second.

During their performance more often than not, someone in the band had their eyes closed, swaying to the music like they were standing in the audience instead of on the stage. Whenever one member had a moment to shine, the others turned toward them smiling. The most noticeable chemistry was between Davis and Polack; throughout their set, they kept looking over at each other with sparkling, almost giddy expressions. At times it felt like she was singing directly to him, instead of the audience.

When they played “Sous la Lune Mandarin,” a French song that Davis said they rarely play live, it became a favorite of their set. She and Polack traded lines back and forth before meeting together in harmony. The way they looked at each other while they sang made it even better.

Towards the end of the set, Davis told everyone to turn off their cameras for the next song so everyone could dance and “get silly” without worrying about it being recorded. Looking around the room, people listened. They danced freely either looking at the stage, or the person they brought with them. When the band finished their final song, the crowd begged for an encore, and at first, their cries seemed to be unheard. But then, they obliged, coming back and closing with their hit song, “Pacific Avenue,” and by the time they left the stage for good, they stood at their merch stand with a line that stretched across the room.

For more DIVE Presents shows, keep an eye on www.diveupstate.com