Opening acts are oftentimes ignored by concertgoers, who use the time to grab a drink, visit the restroom or buy goods at the merchandise table. However, there are rare occasions when the opening act feels as captivating as the main attraction and this certainly seemed to be the case when Dream, Ivory opened at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta on May 3.
An hour before the doors opened, the line stretched three blocks long. By the time Dream, Ivory took to the stage, the venue was already packed to capacity and was standing room only. The bar was empty, the restrooms were vacant and the merchandise table was deserted. Every concertgoer had claimed their spot, and they were staying put.
Dream, Ivory, the Filipino shoegaze duo composed of brothers, Christian and Louie Baello, walked out to raucous cheers from the crowd. They seemed unfazed and unaffected. They are after all, a shoegaze band, a music genre defined by its artists’ tendencies to play entire shows literally gazing down at their shoes. It is a genre characterized by its emphasis on the music itself, often at the expense of showmanship and theatrics.
As they launched into their first song, “Bullet Train,” the latest single off their forthcoming album, When You Come Back, I Have So Much To Tell You, the wall of distortion created belied the quiet, withdrawn demeanor of the brothers. The next song, “Wedding Crasher,” with its message of love lost set to a soundtrack of droning and somewhat menacing guitars furthered the melancholic set. The following song, the hip-hop influenced track, “Kids,” delivered a much-needed, albeit temporary, break from all the sadness.
After that momentary lapse of optimism, Dream, Ivory continued its downward course, playing a trio of heartbreaking songs; the self-conscious “I’m So Emo”, the aptly titled “Blue” and the revenge-driven “Would It Kill You At All.” They followed this up with their most popular song to date, “welcome and goodbye.” With its virality and sheer catchiness, it inspired many in the audience to actually sing along. Their closer, “Solar Eclipse,” was the noisiest song of the night with its drowning feedback that reverberated throughout the venue long after the band left the stage. As they made their quiet exit, the audience swayed in silence, allowing the final notes of the night to wash over them.
To an outsider and those unfamiliar with Dream, Ivory or bands of similar ilk, the concert probably would have seemed rather somber and drained of life. There were no pyrotechnics, no mosh pit, and no dancing. Just a sea of introspective listeners and a band onstage, disengaged and seemingly avoiding eye contact at all costs. But for fans of Dream, Ivory and fans of the genre, this was the whole point: not to see, but to actually listen. And not to be entertained but rather, to be moved.
