Author: Linni Kral
When you hear the phrase “cult following,” what comes to mind? Perhaps the Grateful Dead or Harry Potter, sure, but what about a little band named Jimmy Eat World? Most of you probably haven’t given them a second thought since “The Middle” blasted your local junior high airwaves, but think again. The band is not only still alive, but kicking rather furiously with their current tour and year-old album, Chase This Light.
Most of Jimmy Eat World’s radio hits came via their most popular album, Bleed American, which came out in our adolescent heyday of 2001. However, this was actually a sophomore effort that followed Clarity, the band’s inaugural album. Recorded in 1999, the tenth anniversary of this album has finally given the band the chance to tour it again.
The Clarity x 10 Tour hit Los Angeles on March 6, selling out Club Nokia in the L.A. Live complex downtown across from Staples Center. The complex feels like a luxury cruiseliner floating through another galaxy, which provides a stark contrast to the flannel-clad, wholesome Jimmy fans flocking through the metal detectors.
Club Nokia’s interior resembles a traditional club venue, with an awkwardly large floor, stadium-style seating in the balcony and a restricted-access VIP pit occupying the first 20 feet out from the stage. This higher-paying crowd of VIPs were disappointingly stagnant throughout the band’s set, giving the appearance that Angelenos don’t dance. But hey, if I had shelled out that extra dough, I might be too pissed to dance, too.
The crowd of aging 20-somethings, no doubt die-hard fans since “Sweetness” rocked their world, seemed blissfully sedated by Adkins’ melodious emotive ballads and were as upbeat as 18-and-over crowds get when the band shed emotion for energy-driven tunes.They began the show by playing Clarity all the way through, hardly pausing between songs unless instrument changes were necessary. Adkins came out with a bow to play the Christmas ballad “12.23.95” and switched gears to introduce guitarist, backup vocalist and former lead singer Tom Linton, who performed lead vocals on a few tracks. Arguably the most anticipated track on Clarity was “Goodbye Sky Harbor,” which clocks in at 16 minutes. The band played an inspired 10 minute version, where Linton played one-handed keyboard while humming in to the mic and Adkins played xylophone and used foot pedals to record and loop himself singing, creating a multi-layered one-man harmony that rendered the crowd speechless.
Unlike the largely male crowd, the band showed no signs of aging. Adkins rocked out with impressive stamina, barely stopping to drink water and characteristically flipping his sweaty hair out of his face every five seconds. Clad in all black, the boys performed with the practiced sophistication of a group with more than a decade under their belts.
As a member of the under-reported cult of Jimmy, I found myself somewhat disappointed in the show, despite its excellent execution. My interest in the band stems largely from an emotional connection, and as morbid as it sounds, I’d come prepared, even excited, to cry. I didn’t even wear mascara! But in between almost-mechanical renditions of upbeat “Work,” “Pain,” and the back-to-back double whammy of “The Middle” and “Sweetness,” I was hardly aware of my heart’s existence in my chest cavity.
While I recognize the need to get through all of Clarity, the lack of pauses sometimes felt rushed. Highlights did come when they surprised the audience by playing “No Sensitivity,” an oft-overlooked oldie off a 2000 EP split with Australian band Jebediah. They also redeemed themselves with a particularly chill-inducing rendition of “23,” but the absence of haunting and beautiful tracks like “Night Drive,” “Cautioners,” “Closer” and “Kill” was impossible to ignore.
It was also hard to miss the band’s failure to play anything off their latest album or their heartbreaking EP Disintegration. And it wasn’t just the melancholy that was overlooked-fan favorites such as “Authority Song,” “Bleed American” and “A Praise Chorus” were noticeably missing.
The largest disappointment came at the end, when Adkins thanked the audience and walked off stage without pause. Now, this is usually when the crowd chants “Encore” at a normal show, but not here. The Club Nokia lights and elevator music came on immediately, and it felt like I was the only one left standing, staring at the stage, feeling somehow duped.
Back at home, a careful combing of fan blogs revealed that the band didn’t even intend to play full sets on the Clarity x 10 tour, which ended in their hometown of Mesa, Arizona on March 7. Not getting a full show would have been useful information to me before I bought full-price tickets. But who am I kidding-being under the spell of Jimmy means I’d sell my first-born to see them play “It’s Raining Men” on repeat for an hour.
This article has been archived, for more requests please contact us via the support system.
