Not the Little Fuzzy's Dec. 12 farewell show, but the same costumes.
By Chris DeMento
Seeing a band for the first time can be a treat; seeing a band for the first time on the night of its final performance can be a cathartic, dare I say, religious sort of romp: all the byzantine emotional complexity, malodorous subtext, the washed-over memories of the road and her shitty vomitoria, so many tensions and recollections spilling forth ecstatically. However, seeing a band composed of a Santa Claus drummer and three dancing Christmas trees is, under any circumstance, a revelation.
I don’t know how Little Fuzzy didn’t pass out inside their all-lit-up tannenbaums at their farewell performance at the Make-Out Room on Dec. 12. Experience, probably. They’ve done this same show before, maybe five or six years running.
But enough about the spectacle, on to the songs, which rocked in a very poppy, dancey, groovy way. Not only was I impressed with the way many of the indie numbers developed into stuffed-animal funkballads, but I was struck by the tightness and quality of the playing. Fans of the now-disbanded Little Fuzzy will sorely miss its collective musicianship, which carried quite effortlessly the burden of guitarist-lead vocalist Kirk Markopoulos’s arrangements.
By far the most fun to watch was keyboardist-vocalist Kristin Sobditch. She’s reached an understanding with her muse. At the risk of sounding like her very own hyberbolist, I’ll tell you, there’s definitely something about her, an art something, something that taps into music and sucks at the very marrow. Her stage antics - she does a lot of pointing and rakish gesticulating - are all sped up, but she never misses a beat. Think of that strange, quickening disconnect one senses upon viewing a fast-forwarded sequence of film - exactly on time, but somehow speedier, too. She’ll rip a tambourine with her left hand and coolly vamp with her right, no problem.
It’s too bad this little SF ensemble is no longer. They had a lot going for them in terms of energy and style and Sobditch. So fare you well, my favoritest yuletide pagans.
Check this little YouTube redux - a bit dark, but it’ll give you an idea:
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