You’re excited to be back on campus. You’re looking to get out, and you hear about a cheap, on-campus show of a band that you vaguely remember. What was the name of that song? “Good.” And the band name? Better than Ezra. Unfortunately, neither “good,” “better,” or “best” is an appropriate adjective for the NSO show this past Sunday in McDonough Gymnasium. More like “ehh” and a shrug.
When poor acoustics are a given and you’re surrounded by a swarm of disoriented and awkward first-years, even a few hits lose their appeal. And Better Than Ezra played every even minorly popular song, not disappointing the vaguely reminiscent crowd. In a poorly planned move, “Good” was the third song of the set. Kevin Griffin, vocalist and guitar player, wryly introduced it as “a brand new song. We hope you like it.” Sated with a former no.1 alternative-radio hit the crowd drastically thinned. An audience filling three-fourths of McDonough dropped to one-fourth, leaving only the very enthusiastic and, often synonymously, the very inebriated.
But these New Orleans natives-drummer Travis McNabb, bassist Tom Drummond and the aforementioned Griffin-seemed all the happier for it. Formed in 1988 and without a release since 2001, Better Than Ezra capitalized on the opportunity to entertain the eager handful of young students. Griffin, playing the role of an older brother guitar player, carefully explained his “artistry” to the audience. In a fine act of brown-nosing, Griffin returned for the encore donning an “I Bleed Hoya Blue” T-shirt.
Let’s face it, most of the audience on Sunday probably only knew of Better Than Ezra from radio-play or perhaps a forlorn copy of 1995’s Deluxe. The albums remain far preferable to a live performance. The singles “Good,” “Rosealia,” “Desperately Wanting,” and “Extra ordinary” misled an unknowing, freshman crowd.
The truly dissatisfying part of the show was the ill-chosen covers. Griffin launched into a nondescript Better Than Ezra tune by starting with the Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated.” Lackluster and slow, the verve of the original was absent. Later, in an unsuccessful attempt to appear fresh, they covered OutKast’s “The Whole World,” again failing to deliver and winding up more foolish than hip. Perhaps if he were less creepy and more charismatic, Griffin’s diversions would have succeeded.
Though generally sigh-inducing, the concert was not an complete failure. One cannot expect acoustically deficient McDonough to ever be a top-notch venue, nor should one anticipate a 15-year old, haven’t-had-even-a-minorly-successful-hit-in-more-than-two-years band playing in said gymnasium to be stellar. NSO made the effort to be more than corny icebreakers, hypnotists, and awkward dances. Bringing in a band with bona fide, albeit old, hits under their belt, NSO seems to be making progress. Maybe, if we’re real good, next year we’ll get the Gin Blossoms.
