Spring Break
Turn up the Irish: Amadan hybridizes rock n' roll
Amadan rips up Bombs Away Café on May 9
Brian Beadle
Issue date: 5/15/09 Section: Diversions
Hybridizing rock n' roll can be an iffy endeavor. For every Rage Against the Machine, early Nirvana and Explosions in the Sky, there are endless hordes of crappy bands that either rip off their predecessors or produce their own slightly altered brand of poo.
So I was a little skeptical last Saturday night as I rode over to Bombs Away Café. I had heard of Amadan since moving to Corvallis, but I had not had a chance to catch the five-piece Irish rockers until now. Would these guys just be a shoddy version of Irish stand-outs the Dropkick Murphys, the Pogues, and/or Flogging Molly?
As the band launched into its brand of good times, punk- and Celtic-influenced rawk, my snobby doubts quickly dissolved. Through the Portland-based band's initial fistful of songs, it managed to avoid sounding like the above-listed bands by instead relying on its own brand of energetic and original musical musings, speeding through instrumental-infused assaults lined with a traditional Irish style.
Holy schnikies, these fellas were tight! Distinguished by impressive musicianship and a badass electric fiddler, Amadan blazed through an hour of songs consisting of a variety of originals and one cover. In the wake of the band's infectious-as-a-zombie-virus set list, the enthusiasm of the crowd manifested itself in bobbing heads, tapping toes and raised pint glasses.
"Play a drinking song," someone called out two-thirds of the way through the first set. The overly-nice lead singer - who had already made three or four "thanks for coming out" type comments - obliged. The band busted into my personal highlight of the initial set: a ska-influenced, bouncing cut filled with references to old fans in attendance.
Between sets, I learned that Amadan means "foul" in Gaelic. At the little merchandise table, I had a look at the band's three full-length CDs, tee-shirts and a pair of Amadan-labeled panties.
The second set began around midnight. By now, the crowd, and quite possibly the band, had grown in alcohol-infused enthusiasm. Amadan cranked up the good times, barreling like a speeding train through a long and diverse set list of more originals and a long tune featuring teases of half a dozen covers.
So I was a little skeptical last Saturday night as I rode over to Bombs Away Café. I had heard of Amadan since moving to Corvallis, but I had not had a chance to catch the five-piece Irish rockers until now. Would these guys just be a shoddy version of Irish stand-outs the Dropkick Murphys, the Pogues, and/or Flogging Molly?
As the band launched into its brand of good times, punk- and Celtic-influenced rawk, my snobby doubts quickly dissolved. Through the Portland-based band's initial fistful of songs, it managed to avoid sounding like the above-listed bands by instead relying on its own brand of energetic and original musical musings, speeding through instrumental-infused assaults lined with a traditional Irish style.
Holy schnikies, these fellas were tight! Distinguished by impressive musicianship and a badass electric fiddler, Amadan blazed through an hour of songs consisting of a variety of originals and one cover. In the wake of the band's infectious-as-a-zombie-virus set list, the enthusiasm of the crowd manifested itself in bobbing heads, tapping toes and raised pint glasses.
"Play a drinking song," someone called out two-thirds of the way through the first set. The overly-nice lead singer - who had already made three or four "thanks for coming out" type comments - obliged. The band busted into my personal highlight of the initial set: a ska-influenced, bouncing cut filled with references to old fans in attendance.
Between sets, I learned that Amadan means "foul" in Gaelic. At the little merchandise table, I had a look at the band's three full-length CDs, tee-shirts and a pair of Amadan-labeled panties.
The second set began around midnight. By now, the crowd, and quite possibly the band, had grown in alcohol-infused enthusiasm. Amadan cranked up the good times, barreling like a speeding train through a long and diverse set list of more originals and a long tune featuring teases of half a dozen covers.
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