The Fatty Acids at the Cactus Club, or “I need five synonyms for awesome”

Having only seen the Fatty Acids perform in their living room and several basement shows, I found myself fully blown away by the sound they have grown into. They were at the end of the tremendous bill on Friday at the Cactus Club as Fable and The world Flat and Faux Fir warmed up the stage.

With a nod to Cactus for the righteous set up, much of the praise must go to the band, whose endless playing, touring and (finally) recording has given them the shine of a group that’s found its groove. Wailing has given way to earnest harmonizing, without letting go of the bittersweet tones of angst.

On stage, surrounded by friends and donning bizarre thrift store shirts, the band seemed confident and electric, or perhaps they were just high off the excitement of completing their very first album. As the first notes rang out, the audience sang along.  Awkward dancing turned into a full-on mosh pit at moments when general rocking out just didn’t suffice. The keyboard see-sawed on its stand, and a guy with a trumpet (who apparently lives in the singers walk-in-closet?) made a grand guest appearance.

The Fatty Acids dredged up memories for me of underage summers spent sneaking out to shows and discovering the things that were most important written in the liner notes of albums.  Seven dollars granted me access and my very own copy of Stop Berries, Berries  And Berries, Berries (lyrics included) and I haven’t been able to put it down.