I thought about you to like the ninth degree

Sue Tompkins - Be My Wife, Live At The Modern Institute from Mot and Vimeo.

I have such a vivid memory of listening to the Life Without Buildings LP for the first time, it arrived at the record store in a box of minimal techno and Morr Music stuff from Forced Exposure, who described it as a cross between the Slits and the Talking Heads (please remember it was 2001 and neither of those bands had their comparison energy spent up). Amy came by while it was playing, and I asked her if she liked it and she said she'd have to hear it again, so I brought it home. It was maybe the first time in my life that I bought a record because I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. It definitely didn't sound like either of those reference points, I thought the guitars were a little bit like the Smiths, with really long, note-y passages that descended and crested and doubled back long before they ever repeated, the way "Still Ill" almost doesn't even have a riff, like it's just a long string of pleasant, stirring notes. The vocalist, Sue Tompkins, flourished and chirped over the notes, a burst of excitement and unleashed joy, even as she sang about disappointment and mistakes. It feels almost disorienting to remember, but her voice was the point in question, the reason neither of us were sure.

Within 48 hours we were both certain. It was perfect. Quickly made tapes of the LP filled everything, the car, the walkman that accompanied me to and from work, the little tape player in the kitchen. It was always playing. Our friends were infected, they didn't have a chance. I only remember Lily getting into the car at one point, and absolutely losing it, tired of hearing Tompkins' punchy, bright voice spit out "The right stuff! The. Right. Stuff!" in our house, through the wall she shared with a roommate, in the back seat on the way to a resturant. It absolutely took over, and I frantically mailordered with U.K. shops trying to track down 7"s with B-sides I hadn't yet heard, or even alternate versions.

Kids we knew from Olympia toured the U.K. and played with Life Without Buildings in Glasgow, and it was possibly the most jealous I've ever been of another band. I thought I was going to throw up. When the record got liscensed to a label from Baltimore we celebrated, thinking it would obviously bring the band to America, but instead they broke up with a short notice on their website.

Around this time I started to meet people who had seen them, everyone dead serious and insistant that they were far superior live. As much as I loved their records, I was quick to believe them all, there was such a eagerness in these songs that it made me shiver to imagine them playing. There were always rumors of a forthcoming live record, and every time anyone brought it up, someone in the conversation had an anecdote about a friend who saw Life Without Buildings, how absolutely perfect they were.

In April of this year I was in Glasgow, nearly trembling with excitement about my first visit to this town where so many of my favorite artists and bands lived. Outside Monorail, the record shop run by Stephen Pastel, there was a chalkboard with an announcement that tickets have gone on sale for Life Without Buildings. I flipped. I paced and asked half questions, "do you think?"; "could it be?" not daring to believe. Once I had convinced myself it was true, I started to scheme plane tickets for the end of May, so amped to fly across the ocean to finally see them play. I returned to the counter of the store and barely got the word "Life" out of my mouth before I was informed that it was a record release party, that some of the members of the band would be there, possibly DJing, but that was all. He saw my disappointment and said, "tough break, huh?" as I wandered away.

Still it was nice to know the live CD actually was coming out, and that night I talked to more than a few kids who loved the band as much as I and shared their stories, and this video of Sue Tompkins singing a David Bowie song at the Modern Institute which I had spent the afternoon at and fallen in love with. But back to that in a second.

The live CD was released this week to a couple great reviews and I have happily listened to it non-stop since yesterday, but I'm a bit wary. I think the CD is excellent, so charming and well-played that it feels like reading a love-letter, full of sun and color. But it also sounds a lot like the record, and I'm not 100% sure why everyone insists they were so much better live. Everyone seems to mention Tompkins' conversation, which is sweet for sure, but doesn't make so much difference. There are a couple of moments where I'm really caught up in their momentum, which is purely a live phenomenon, but it's not like the difference between "Disorder" on Unknown Pleasures and "Disorder" on Live aux Bains Douches. Then I went back and watched the video of "Be My Wife."

Sue Tompkins bounces and sways and bows and curls up like an exact physical representation of her voice. There's a restlessness, a spirit that can get locked in a repetitive motion or burst in a sudden leap that feels like no performance I've ever seen. It's like there's twenty people inside her tiny body all struggling to express themselves, not with a chaos but with a delighted, non-stop action. I can only imagine how transfixing it would be for the 55 minutes of "Live at the Annandale Hotel" and am certain that I would be just as reverent when talking about the band had I seen them. It's also really nice to hear a new song, "Liberty Feelup." Really I want everyone in the world to hear this band, and honestly I feel like a jerk for casting a single doubt about this new CD, because it's such a treat.