Contributed by Christopher Gedos

Brother and Useless Keys played The Satellite Tuesday night to roughly 110 people. Airborne Toxic Event played here Monday night to a sold out crowd (check out August Brown’s thorough review here). I’m afraid many concert-goers were too burnt out for double duty. Moreover, Brother only has 3 (or 4) songs online at the moment, which I’m sure factored into the modest turnout. But those in attendance were generously rewarded for their curiosity with a playfully confident 45 minute performance.

I arrived about two songs into Useless Keys’ post-psychedelic performance. I didn’t even know it was them for another three songs. I had to ask the girls at the merch table. I mean it in the best possible way when I say that Useless Keys are all over the place sonically. It’s fun seeing a band this talented still trying to define their sound. Or maybe they don’t want to be defined. The volume is near-deafening as fog envelops the stage. Everybody digs the paranoiac ambiance. Their sound is schizophrenic: Replacements on roids, My Bloody Valentine at prom, Nirvana in LaLa land, early Pink Floyd meets Trout Mask Replica. Only through the marriage of cacophony will such eccentric euphony ever ferment.

Brother hasn’t basked in the “second coming” musical deification bestowed upon The Vaccines and WU LYF, possibly because they’re from Slough as opposed to London or Manchester. Their self-described style, grit-pop, isn’t quite as apt as WU LYF’s “heavy pop”. A more fitting branding for Brother is “hard-jangle”, in honor of XTC and The La’s.

As Brother prepares to take stage, I’m not quite sure what to expect. It’s a battle of cognition versus perception: I know the group to be a very promising foursome, but is my concert-going frequency having an adverse affect on the appreciation value? Am I becoming a part of the creative and jaded LA cross-section I’ve lamented in the past?

My doubt dissipates once Brother takes stage and launches into “Still Here”, which was featured in an April 9th post. The pitch-perfect harmonies have a tinge of adolescent abandon, as in, “We know we sound good and we still don’t give a fuck!” The singer mentions something about his guitar strap breaking and how “half a million people in England might care to know that right now.” (I’m paraphrasing.) I can forgive a healthy level of conceit for a band with this much talent. After all, Rock n’ Roll is a game designed for the young and the precocious, those who understand that each passing moment is the oldest we’ve ever been and the younger we’ll ever be. And Brother, with their charming blend of youthfulness and insouciance, perfectly captures that ineffable spirit.

The songs besides “Still Here”, “Darling Buds of May”, and “Time Machine” were catchy as well, but I’m still not sure if Brother will maintain the uniform quality of their initial public offerings. They could’ve played louder but I won’t nitpick. “Just download the album for free,” the singer quipped. I don’t know how happy Geffen will be if Brother dissuades CD purchases come July, but it doesn’t really matter if the lads from Slough deliver like they did at The Satellite on Tuesday. All interested parties will receive their spoils, creative and monetary, at year-end.

Brother: (Official) (Myspace)

RATING: 8.88 – A score suggesting great auspiciousness, even infinity.