REVIEW: Thursday Comes A Day Late... And Other Clever Titles
08/08 @ Lark Hall, Albany
With support from I Am the Avalanche and Blood Vulture
Photos by Debi Gustafson
“What a treat it was to get loud, sweaty and rowdy with a group of peers who likely never thought they’d get a chance to witness a renowned band from their formative years in such a tight knit setting.”
Walking into Lark Hall on Friday, it was almost unrecognizable. The oft-revered local venue was packed front to back with a sea of elder millennials in mostly black T-shirts, the air damp with sweat and rife with excitement. The headlining band everyone was anticipating was post-hardcore icons Thursday, a name which, for a Friday night show, provided plenty of fodder for a modern Abbott & Costello routine.
The New Jersey natives came to Albany to close out a run of warm-up shows before they set off to play the biggest gig of their career: opening for My Chemical Romance and Death Cab For Cutie at Met Life Stadium. (Imagine telling your teenage self about such a bill, let alone at such a massive venue!) As singer Geoff Rickley put it, performing on a stage like Lark Hall was a much more familiar environment than what they were about to experience, and they were clearly grateful for the interaction, which was more akin to the DIY basement shows they grew up hosting in New Brunswick.
The sold-out crowd was split almost exactly down the middle – the front half jumping, moshing, and screaming every lyric back into Rickley’s face, mere feet away thanks to the lack of a front security barrier. The back half was no less enthusiastic, opting for a safe distance from the action whilst singing along with their peers to a set list that was heavily weighted towards the band’s “holy trinity”: 2001’s Full Collapse, 2003’s War All the Time and 2006’s A City By The Light Divided. Included within the set, however, were two of the band’s newest singles, “White Bikes” and “Application For Release From the Dream.” These tracks received equally thunderous response, and rightfully so – these are two of the best songs the band has written in years, and they sounded just as rejuvenated live.
The quintet was especially tight, with drummer Tucker Rule embodying a human metronome while beating the living hell out of his translucent orange drums, and the guitarists following along in lockstep. Rickley moved in and out of his gentle midrange, a yell-adjacent tenor and a full-on guttural scream with ease, not holding back even with the band’s first stadium show on the horizon. Hell, I didn’t even see him stop for a sip of water at any point during the set, which is equal parts impressive and concerning. Though, judging by the smile on his face most of the night, I’m pretty sure he was fine.
The structure of the set was a bit unexpected, with Rickley commenting a number of times how they were “doing things a bit differently than normal”, opting for a more mellow first half before erupting into a heavier second half. Their normal closing songs—”Understanding (in a Car Crash)” and “War All The Time”—were performed mid-set, which was a particularly interesting choice. But in the end, the momentum never staggered. Hands and energy levels were in the air from opener “Signals Over the Air” all the way through the encore, a pleasantly surprising hat trick of deep cuts “Jet Black New Year”, “The Lovesong Writer”, and “Turnpike Divides”.
But the highlight of the entire night might have come from someone who wasn’t even on the stage. Throughout the set, I happened to be standing near August Rosa, the man behind DIVE Presents and the promoter of the evening. We were both enjoying the show near the front, but off to the side away from the audience members who preferred to get a little (respectfully) rowdy. But when Thursday broke into “Cross Out the Eyes,” I caught a glimpse of the joy on Rosa’s face. And suddenly, he beelined through the crowd to join in the pit that was forming in the center. My eyes remained on him as he flung his body and screamed along to every word amidst a slew of fans who likely had no idea he was the one responsible for the entire night.
Lark Hall does not host too many shows like this one; they’ve become better known for more intimate and/or jam-heavy bills. One can only hope this is the start of many more to come, because the vibes and the sound in their gorgeous, high-ceilinged room were immaculate on Friday night. What a treat it was to get loud, sweaty and rowdy with a group of peers who likely never thought they’d get a chance to witness a renowned band from their formative years in such a tight knit setting. My ears are still ringing… and I’m not complaining.
