review by Ian Aeillo | photos by Jared Bakewell
I showed up to see The Envy Corps as they were seconds into their first song. The Waiting Room was pretty full, 120 or so people, and I rushed to the front because I’m like that. I arrived at my spot immediately after the first song ended. Luke Pettipoole, the frontman for the Des Moines/Omaha-based four-piece, pointed at me and said, “Everyone should move up to the front like Ian.”
Sidenote: I should tell you right away I’m terrible when I’m put on the spot. I get sweaty hands and my adrenaline starts pumping. For smart people, the emotion and excitement goes straight to the “snappy comeback” part of the brain. “Ah,” witnesses whisper, “what a topical and timely retort.” They don’t say that for me. While riding my bike on 12th Street on campus at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, a student in a red Jeep Wrangler with in-transit tags pulled up next to me and said, “Hey, why don’t you ride on the sidewalk?” I replied with, “Because it’s a sidewalk, not a sideride.” The guy just looked at me and drove off. Several hours later, I came up with a better comeback.
Back to the show. After the shout-out, I could have just nodded and have said nothing. I could have turned around and screamed, “Get up here, people. Let’s dance!” I could have really done anything besides what I did. I grabbed my iPhone out of my pocket and said, “I’m just here for you to fix my phone.” Because Pettipoole works at the Apple Store. Nice job, man. Perfect.
As Pettipoole sauntered away from our awkward exchange, drummer Scott Yoshimura clicked into another song. The crowd cheered. An Omaha crowd actually cheered for a non-Saddle Creek band? Wow. A lot of people get really excited for this band, I thought. Maybe they’re just friends and family, cheering out of familial guilt. No. It turns out these people knew every word to every song. They were actual fans of the band. It’s inspiring to see a crowd so feverishly enjoy a local band. I’m a little jealous, but I’m petty.
The Envy Corps is unlike most non-Creek bands playing in Nebraska right now. They’re polished. Polished to the point where the band, soundman extraordinaire J.J. Idt and the crowd seemed as though they had spent weeks preparing exclusively for this 50-minute performance. It felt like a CD release party in a rock tumbler.
People love to compare The Envy Corps to other bands, which is understandable, I guess. Guitarist Brandon Darner has a pedalboard that seems to cover half the stage, and his playing style does often have Jonny Greenwood-esque vocalizations. Yet unlike Greenwood, who seems to thrive on the mad-German-scientist thing, Darner seems to be more relaxed and less surgical in his execution. Not sloppy, mind you. Think less human-centipede-surgery and more Nikola-experimenting-with-the-Tesla-Coil type playing.
Pettipoole emotes his lyrics in a slightly indecipherable sort of way. With the exception of the occasional “I just want to talk to you” or “Make it stop,” we just sort of assume he’s singing actual words. This is fine (buy an album if you want to follow along at home). He’s often described as having vocal similarities to Radiohead and Modest Mouse. That’s not bad company. I don’t totally hear either of them, but I guess I feel both, you know? It would be apt to describe Pettipoole as a cross between a Thom Yorke who doesn’t cry after sex and an Isaac Brock who does.
While the well-written songs segued into each other, I marveled at how full the band sounded.
There was something extra. Multi-instrumentalist Micah Natera is that something extra. Often while standing in his corner in front of the keyboards, I couldn’t hear what Natera was playing. I noticed, however, that I could often feel what he was playing. Natera provides the sub-100hz that was missing from Pettipoole’s frenetic and constantly moving bass lines. I was genuinely surprised at how well the band pulled off three low-end instruments working in tandem.
Then there’s drummer Scott Yoshimura. Holy shit. Seriously. Scott Yoshimura is a fucking drummer. I’ll put it this way. One gets the impression Pettipoole could carry on revealing dissections of Kafka novels and probably has a rad Instagram feed. Darner appears as though he would have terrific knowledge of jazz history and likely knows a great deal about craft beer (but doesn’t talk down to you when you’ve showed up to his house with Miller Lite). Natera rolls his ‘r’s’ properly when speaking Latin and will probably happily sell an Envy Corps vinyl LP for $5 less if that’s all you’ve got.
Yoshimura appears to have only one mission in life: to beat the shit out of things with wooden sticks. In fact, I was kind of taken aback when he appeared outside The Waiting Room after the show as I had assumed he was wheeled onto the stage to play the concert and at once put back in his protective cage where he’s placed to protect valuables when he’s not in front of an audience. In songs like “Exchequer” (the heaviest song of the night), Yoshimura’s dynamic and attacking style is almost overwhelming; the driving and repetitive kick rhythm mesmerizes and draws one in, but it does so by repeatedly punching you in the face. In songs like the more complicated and nuanced “Cmd+Q,” his drumming provides a mixture of technicality and well-timed simplicity creating a backdrop that helps define the vocal aspirations of Pettipoole and effectively evolving the song into what it is.
Together, the four of them create fantastically original songs which, yes, do borrow from other bands, but ultimately create a sonic landscape far beyond what most others are doing around here.
As the set wore down, I became anxious. The crowd wasn’t letting up in their encouragement of the band, Pettipoole and Co. never seemed winded no matter how epically huge the sound became on stage, and I was all danced out after the Grammy-nominated (no? It fucking should be) “Ms. Hospital Corners” was played at what had to be the loudest volume of the night. How could this night end so early? It was only 11:30 or so. Play your entire catalog. Don’t stop yet.
The band played their final song after an encore. I stood there in the center of the crowd and watched the band shake hands with their fans. Flush-faced men and grade-school excited women rushed Yoshimura, Pettipoole and Darner, applauding them for a show well-played. I stood wondering how the crowd wasn’t three times this size. How was this group neglected by Omaha as a whole? As I stood puzzled, Pettipoole wandered over and asked how I liked it. “Man, I don’t know what to say. It was…” and I lost the words.
Upon reflection of my stumbling idiocy, I realized something about these guys. While they’re very much dissimilar to other Omaha groups in their execution, they share something common among most midwestern artists. They don’t care if they are playing in front of 30, 300 or 3,000. They just want to be respected. They want to put on a good show. And tonight, The Envy Corps put on a really good show.
“Thanks, man,” Pettipole said, “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
I wandered over to the merch table Natera was manning with $20 in my pocket. I asked for a vinyl record.
“$25” he said.
“Shit, I only have a $20.” I said.
He pushed the record towards me. “Thanks for coming to to see us play. $20 is fine for tonight.”
Ian Aeillo is a Hear Nebraska contributor. This tagline was written by Neal Obermeyer. Reach Ian at ianaeillo@gmail.com.