Gayngs' The Last Prom On Earth at First Avenue
Steve McPherson
Gayngs' Mike Noyce, Ivan Howard, Justin Vernon, and Phil Cook
There seems to be no guarantee that Gayngs will ever play another show, but the project’s ephemeral nature didn’t seem to bother Ryan Olson one lick as he took the stage defiantly smoking a cigarette and wielding a big bottle of Maker’s Mark. If this was indeed the last prom on Earth, Gayngs was going out in style. As Olson cued up a loop and took a swig, someone in the audience shouted, “Hey! I didn’t come here to watch you drink whiskey.” But you know, you kind of did.
Gayngs is about indulgence, as indicated by the décor at First Avenue, which included a giant glittery poster of the Gayngs sign bookended by Grecian columns draped in gold bunting and the makings for a balloon drop at the end of the night. And as the members took the stage one by one, dressed mostly in all white, the music built and built until it oozed into Relayted’s opening track, “The Gaudy Side Of Town.” Sounding big and beautiful, Gayngs was the very embodiment of their own concept: a sprawling collective with the mission of playing lush ‘80s soft-rock makeout music—the kind of making out that leaves you asking, “Is that your tongue in your cheek or are you just happy to see me?”
But the other part of that concept was to peg all the music to 69 BPM, and it works a lot better on the album than live, where a little variation in energy level would go a long way. The more or less frontperson-less group (The Rosebuds’ Ivan Howard seemed the most lead singer-ish but didn’t have the swagger to own the role) got its biggest shots of adrenaline from guests like P.O.S.—who absolutely killed “No Sweat” in a white suit, black shirt, and gold vest—and leading ladies Dessa, Maggie Morrison, and Channy Moon. Also surprisingly good were the more aimless, connective bits that on the record serve only to blur the lines between tracks. Live, they gave saxophonist Michael Lewis the chance to blow hard, and the complex and swirling ambient noise laid down by the rest of the band reminded you that these guys are in Megafaun, Bon Iver, and Mel Gibson And The Pants and know a thing or two about texture.
Not surprisingly, their cover of Godley And Creme’s “Cry” was a highlight, ending with a dizzyingly layered crescendo of voices accompanied by raised arms and bright lights. Just before their set’s last song (album closer “The Last Prom On Earth”), the buzz started circling the front of the stage that Prince himself was backstage, ready with guitar in hand to join Gayngs, but for whatever reason, it didn’t happen. Most of the audience was probably none the wiser, and it was hard to be disappointed in the epic balloon drop cued by Justin Vernon’s rapid-fire, Auto-Tuned Bone Thugs-N-Harmony tribute or the encore, a cover of Howard Jones’ “No One Is To Blame.”
If Gayngs never put together another show or even album, it wouldn't necessarily be the worst fate for this project. There’s something about the fleeting, all-we’ve-got-is-tonight feel of The Last Prom On Earth that risks being tarnished by the attempt to recreate it. Proms are, after all, more about memories than repeat performances.
