Sometimes I fail to understand the thought process of booking an opening act. Sure, it is a Monday night. Okay and it is finals week. But still, this slot is for a position playing prior to a member in Queens of the Stone Age. While that’s not The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, it’s also not open mic night at the college union. Dream Wolf, the evening’s opening act seems to be a fairly shining example of this under-compensation. Though comprised of moderately talented musicians instrumentally, they fail to carry the weight of a front-woman who sticks out on stage as badly as her glittery silver hot topic shirt. She seems to fall subject to what I’ve often termed “substitute singer syndrome.” This is because it seems possible that the person on stage is little more than a big-voiced karaoke singer, filling in for the band’s actual charismatic and entertaining lead singer. Sadly, however, this is not true and Dream Wolf is a product of their weakest link, which is their stage presence. I’m sure I’ll be run out of the 816 for not grabbing on to this band like every other hipster in town, but honestly, running in place in time with your drummer while shaking your head in a faux-headbang fashion does not equate energy or compensate for your inability to grasp simply 4/4 structures. Make a note. 
Shifting courses 180 degrees, Umberto started out the evening with the crowd seemingly wondering what the fuck was going on as a cartoon projection graced a black background and a whining noise filled the room. Meanwhile, no one stood on stage. However, after 3 to 5 minutes and enough fog to give a non-smoker cancer had filled the room, twin witches took their places at their keyboard/mac computer or drums. Their principle goal seemed to be to make noise. Sure, it appeared to be organized noise, building into a few fairly impressive moments by the drummer, but noise nonetheless. I will give them their credit where credit is due. Their changes are crisp and their beats are solid, but overall the group is pretty ignorable after the first 10 minutes. I mean, how long can we be expected to watch a drummer and a bunch of fairly simple piano riffs shoved through fuzz pedals. At some point the concept outweighs the musicianship and you’re just left wondering when they sacrifice the virgins or puppies or whatever lamb is hanging around.
Yeah sure, maybe I’m the angry blogger guy in the corner. But, maybe not. Maybe I paid to see M83 and got MP3Jed.
The night’s saving grace and golden ticket overwhelmingly stood out as Mini Mansions. With flawlessly blended vocals, impeccable instrumental knowledge and the ability to actually show that on stage, the band showed a disappointing turnout that they’d be walking away with their cover change’s worth.
The Beatles influences come through a little more obviously on stage than on their album in my opinion. Organ solos fly around the room, shifting over and under combative and powerful guitar and drum combos. Take for example the killer build ups into frantic and overwhelming drum and piano clusterfucks before easing back into a soothing symphony. They do a great job of expressing their range, running the full course of genres, from simple, easy to listen to pop to in your face, punk influenced, metal inspired noise. I could to see this band on the bill with the likes of Field Music, The Flaming Lips or the Brand News and Thrices of the world.
Swapping in an out of their roles, interchanging from drummer to guitarist or bassist to drummer, Mini Mansions managed to provide a pretty clear perspective of their versatility. There was little to no room to question how members of Queens of the Stone Age can end up sounding like they’ve recorded the Elliott Smith version of the White Album. Talent simply overtakes typecasting. Sadly, most of Kansas City missed seeing this extremely talented band in a small dive bar for a fairly reasonable cover. Hell, their cover of “Heart of Glass” was worth 5 bones alone.
However, my only complaint of the night (toward Mini Mansions) comes directed at Kansas City and not the band itself. THIS is why talented bands skip our city. We give them no reason to be here. At the end of the day, their set is still their job and they still have to pay the bills. Des Moines to Lawrence or Denver to Kansas City is a tank of gas minimum. Monday night or not, if we don’t get our asses out of our homes and fill the rooms, bands like this will end up in cities that will. It’s not worth their time.
And it would be a shame for our city to miss out on such an amazing set because of apathy, wouldn’t it?
