Concert review: Fan power gets Dashboard Confessional to Manila

MANILA, Philippines - “We’ve been trying for a long time to get a gig here. We have a lot of (Filipino) fans who have been vocal, and reach out to us through Facebook or Twitter,” says Chris Carrabba, main man of American rock group Dashboard Confessional, smiling as he and the rest of the band sit down for a one-on-one chat with The Philippine STAR.

The band knew as far back as 12 years ago that they had a “small but fervent following” here — a fan base that made its voice heard, requested Dashboard Confessional songs on the radio and, for Chris, is the “reason we are sitting here today.”

To be fair, Dashboard Confessional is no obscure act. It is a perennial chart dweller — with material distinguished by intelligent lyrics, Chris’ raw vocals, and anthemic melodies. It sure doesn’t hurt, too, that Chris doesn’t look half bad. He’s the veritable posterboy of the so-called emo generation of musicians — a catch-all phrase that refers to “rock music characterized by melodic musicianship and expressive, often confessional lyrics” according to Wikipedia. Today, the popularity of the genre has spawned a preponderance of pseudo-emo acts that, admittedly, speak more about jumping on the fashion bandwagon than anything. Lyrically hollow copies thus have crawled out of the woodwork. It’s certainly refreshing to see Dashboard still at it — with same indulging substance in its work.

Chris was once the front man of alternative act Further Seems Forever, until Dashboard Confessional took off. DC was originally intended as a vehicle to showcase Chris’ songs that didn’t fit further — a body of cathartic songs that were penned during a particularly tough time in the songwriter’s life. The classic Swiss Army Romance album, released in 2000, and a successful tour by Chris as a solo act opened the doors to a departure from Further Seems Forever, which then went through a succession of vocalists until calling it quits in 2006.

Named after Chris’ Swiss Army Romance track The Sharp Hint of New Tears, (On the way home, this car hears my confessions) Dashboard Confessional has released a total of six full albums. The last one, waxed last year, is Alter the Ending. Critics hail it as a triumphant return of Dashboard Confessional to full-bore rock.

“Every time I set out a record, I just get a feeling of which way I want to go,” says Chris. “There are two polar-opposite places that the band lives in: like the first couple of records and Shade of Poison Trees where it’s very stripped down and most acoustic and as raw as can be. On the other end, it’s a full-blown production while also trying to be raw. This (Alter the Ending) fits in that category of having a full-blown introduction while maintaining a sort of rawness that I like from the early days.”

If you ask him, continues the front man, “In Dusk and Summer, the edges got a little too smoothed out for my taste, so I was excited when we went in to make Alter the Ending. I wanted it to be as good as I thought we were in Dusk and Summer while allowing ourselves to not file down the edges as much… To let imperfections show because I think that’s like the modern way of making records: you can fix every mistake until everything’s perfect.”

Chris declares: “I don’t think that if older records had been made that way, they’d be as long as long lasting. There are things you hear — the imperfections — that make you keep listening. There’s this sort of this magic there that you can wash away just by trying to make things perfect.”

The album, therefore, was approached with this ethos. “When I sent them my demos (of the new songs), my demos were fairly raw. I don’t know if we verbally agreed upon it or not, but we all decided that we would be prepared and know the songs but we weren’t really going to overwrite our parts,” says Chris. “So when we got in the room together with the microphone set up, you’d hear that reactive kind of playing in all of us. You know, just in the moment that we were supposed to — transferring what we have written out and perfected it on our own time.”

“I did not have an exact map for what I wanted to do. There’s was a lot of improvisation,” volunteers drummer Mike Marsh.

Guitarist John Lefler joins: “I think if there’s any polished nature to the record it’s probably because, hopefully, we have gotten better as a band. That wasn’t over-strategized or over-thought. And as far as electric versus acoustic, there are two versions of the record, so there’s always a reverence to that.”

Chris says his bandmates “police” him on the DC sound. “Acoustic guitars were exclusively my thing, and they remind me all the time not get too far from that. We were trying to learn these songs while we recorded them. And now they have a different character than when we walked in the room to record them.”

Is it a democracy then? Chris eschews the term in favor of “synergy.” “We’ve played together so much and for so long now that it’s almost a unified instinct as opposed to I’m not trying to get what I want out of somebody else. I’m always trying to give in a way. I think when you’re younger you just want to put a stamp on it. As things go, you just want a song to be powerful and you’re happy to blend in somewhere.”

John shares: “The key is trust. I think someone can perform better without three other guys breathing down his neck. I think he can trust us and go and eat his sandwich or something. And with this record, we know what we’re supposed to sound like and what we were supposed to do. And let the song and the moment guide you that way.”

* * *

The press conference/meet and greet at the Glorietta Activity Center is packed with fans — some of whom brandish “I love Chris” signs. DC members look pretty overwhelmed by the warm reception, and gamely field questions from the assembly. “Are you guys coming to the concert?” Chris asks, and is met with enthusiastic applause.

At the Mindanao Open Parking of TriNoma, exciting new local band Franco, composed of grizzled music veterans, winds up its tight set before eight.

“We are looking at more concerts at this venue,” shares TriNoma GM Mark Sablan with The STAR. “We consider it a complementary site to the TriNoma Activity Center and the park.”

An almost amber moon is obscured by clouds on this starless, humid night. The venue quickly packs up, and the anticipation reaches fever pitch as the roadies and tech people vacate the stage. Drummer Mike enters first and promptly hammers down a few bars before Chris, John and Scott (Shoenbeck, bassist) launch into Don’t Wait to a din of cheers. The charismatic Chris involves the crowd in singing, and even with song choices, asking if we want old or new stuff (most shout “old”).

Favorites like Saints and Sailors, The Good Fight, Screaming Infidelities, Swiss Army Romance, As Lovers Go, Stolen and Rooftops and Invitations (interspersed cleverly with a snippets from U2’s Pride (In the Name of Love) whip the fans into a singing frenzy. DC also covers the Weezer classic El Scorcho, and features key singles from the new album like Everybody Learns from Disaster, Belle of the Boulevard and Get it Right. For its encore, DC performs the monster hit Hands Down.

Right after the show, Chris tweets: “Just played in Manila for the first time. I never imagined a show could be so awesome!”

* * *

Back at the one-on-one, the MCA person gives a time’s up sign, but Chris continues to oblige us with responses. Fifteen minutes, of course, is a blink when you have so many questions — just as 12 years was too long a time to have waited for Dashboard Confessional.

Chris promises with a smile: “We took too long to get here. It will not take as long to come back.”