I was in a quitting-smoking-again foul mood when I arrived at State Theatre on Monday night for the Yeasayer show, and the worldish dance meh-ness of opening act Washed Out didn’t make it any better. [Yeasayer pictured below; all pics by Tracy May.]

Granted, the experimental project of Atlanta-based Ernest Greene (vox, keys, synths, laptop, etc.) began in his bedroom, and wasn't originally written with performing in mind. But, man, was I ever underwhelmed. Neither Greene nor any of his hired hands (a drummer, a bassist, a synth player/percussionist) possessed any sort of stage presence or appealing individuality or musical chemistry to speak of; it was an each-man-doing-his-own-thing deal. Their sound had potential with luscious, borderline New Age-y and New Wave moments. But when it ventured into rave-land territories, and Greene’s vocals droned or wailed or mumbled along in a haunted inoffensive-enough tone, everything about the band – their clothes, their awkward uninspired delivery, their lack of flash – just grated on my nerves. A few tidbits from my notes: “Hate. This. Guy.” (Greene during a particularly tedious moment) “Neverending Story soundtrack?” (I actually borderlined liked it for a second there.) “The drummer’s mustache has more personality than the drummer.” (My mustache-wearing husband agreed.)

Luckily, I still had Yeasayer to look forward to, and the band delivered a lively set during their first-ever show in Florida, lifting the mood of the room with naturally buoyant energy, vibrant lights, a unique stage set up, great sound quality, and more than enough inner-band chemistry to make up for Washed Out's lack.

This article appears in Oct 7-13, 2010.