Intention is quite an amazing cognition. I intend to study diligently these final weeks of the semester. I intend to find employment to fund my upcoming summertime activities. I intend to offer some musical insight or information now and again.
Along the way to the fulfillment of such intentions, happenstance proves an even more fascinating event. I never intended to support alt-country endeavors. When Party in the Park lineups moved back, I happened to become captivated by Blake Thomas and the Downtown Brown. I never intended to become ridiculously enthusiastic about bands creating the music culture in Madison. After an assigned interlude with Lis Harvey, I happened to get completely hooked.
Few things are better — in the realm of music — than such a gift of coincidence during a live show. If patient enough to arrive early and leave late, one may discover a hidden truth: unknown does not always equal untalented.
Going to see a particular band perform, you find the evening’s highlights from the unfamiliar opening group or subsequent band. Buying the ticket to listen to Widespread Panic, I now remember it as the Summerfest performance of Ben Harper. Arriving at the Annex to hear Lucky Boys Confusion, I now spout more lyrics from the Plain White Ts than any of Stubhy’s lines.
Sitting in Uno’s a few weeks ago, I experienced such a blessing of chance. The eager anticipation I had for my first witness of Secondhand proved well-founded. The trio — playing in the absence of bassist Jason Shafton — offered an excellent cover of the Gary Jules’ cover of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World.” The original tunes were equally delightful, leaving me by no means displeased with the acoustic set.
It would have been more enjoyable, however, had the boys at the next table been ever-so-slightly less distracting. Up and down. Back and forth. Styling incredibly uneven man pigtails. Realizing they were in fact not becoming. On the phone. Relaying messages. Could they really be surprised if even a close friend wouldn’t leave the Decemberists’ show at the Barrymore — rumored to be one of the best of the year thus far –to kick it at Uno’s? Appreciation for Secondhand or not, it was almost enough to make me leave.
As the set ended and Secondhand members moved aside for the next band, the irritating crew got up. Classic. Distracted during the performance of the band I knew, but allowed undivided attention for the music I did not. To my chagrin, those boys creating the commotion turned out to compose those very sounds of which I previously was not aware.
The moment of truth: stay and listen or go home and sleep? If I had no positive impression of them as audience members, why would I expect to welcome them as entertainers? I was already there. And in all honesty — at that specific moment — a touch too lazy to walk the few blocks to my apartment. So I settled back, preparing to appreciate nothing more than the marginally comfortable booth seat.
I ought to have known better. Liam Gallagher. Julian Casablancas. Jackass ideals and revolutionary musical ability go hand in hand far too often.
No, I do not think I will find myself sitting next to these gentlemen in the near future. On the other hand, it would take quite an effort to keep me from seeing Polydream play again. The power rock quartet had a presence — matched by a sound — which was far too great for the small pseudo-stage Uno’s provided. Though given hardly enough room to move, drummer Zack Austin kept a consistent energy through his clashing. Guitarist Eric LeMieux brought a fierce force with his riffs. Bassist Luke Etten created a deeper dimension with his lines.
Then there was frontman Jon Knudson. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for the sound that came from that boy. Think along the lines of Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger — slightly gravely and highly emotive — yet with a surprising clarity. Now forget everything else Nickelback. Mix around some Oasis and Foo Fighters, add a dash of Weezer. You only have a mere suggestion of the sounds making Polydream addictive.
So addictive, I have since become dependent upon a daily visit to Polydream’s purevolume profile. Hearing the slight country slant of “Hey Juner” fulfills the craving for a catchy rock track. Listening to Knudson’s vocals paired with tearing guitars and driving drums makes “Beautiful” practically euphoric.
Equally enticing are cleverly revamped covers such as Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” Over the course of the performance that Friday night, no other song gave the audience more energy. Who knew so many people were hidden in the darkened corners of Uno’s until they suddenly filled the floor? That alone is quite a feat — getting Wisconsin kids dancing with more than the nodding of necks. Not to mention successfully executing the tricky task of transforming the 1955 rock-and-roll anthem to a garage-rock tune of today.
Preparing to make the club rounds throughout the summer, the best chance to become addicted will likely be during the All Campus Party. Awesome Car Funmaker might be rocking The Portal Music Café. Dafino may be performing at The Annex. But tonight ought to be spent listening to Polydream on Bascom. Playing for Chancellor Wiley’s House Party, the sounds will command a kind of influence kegs of root beer simply cannot.
Intention may not have led to my discovery of Polydream’s sound. In fact, intent to release myself from an annoyance nearly left me without the exposure. Yet the offering of happenstance — musical or otherwise — lies in this kind of unanticipated finding. The rain turns into the discovery of a 10 in your coat pocket. The missed bus turns into a meeting with an old acquaintance. The bothersome boys turn into the remarkable rock band. Keep your ears open — you never know when that one song will strike you or that perfect rock arrangement will hit your ears. Such things one simply cannot plan.
Christine is a junior majoring in English. She does her best not to make plans — they rarely pan out positively. She may be reached for question or comment at [email protected].
