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  The Thermals - The Crowfoot, Pontiac, MI - October 25, 2007By Daniel JohnsonOctober 30, 2007 It was hard to imagine any band following up, and recovering from, the ferocity of opener Child Bite's set. Watching the indie athletes nail their routine of angular gymnastics, in which they mime Devo being electrocuted by a Sega Genesis in a bathtub of post-punk grime, it seemed that singer Shawn Night's twitchy performance alone had more than satisfied the evening's rock quota. And yet, The Thermals took the stage with confidence and, with just a few minutes of their smartly written, three-piece bravado, created a need for pummeling power pop for even the satiated. A Thermals show used to be more about the spectacle than the music, all drunken banter and gauche theatrics. But more and more, the band's writing contains enough poignant antagonism that the quickest route to delivering a punk-rock experience is to just play the songs. They did most of their new conceptual new record The Body, The Blood, The Machine - a vision of the Apocalypse in which the Four Horsemen look suspiciously like Bush's cabinet - and that album's newfound sonic clarity was brought to life by a performance that was just as taughtly focused. Enough time has elapsed for nostalgia to set in for that certain strain of '90s indie rock in which brainy, emasculated songcraft was dipped in a layer of macho sludge - bands like Pavement, Sebadoah and Dinosaur Jr - and prove that sound's classic staying power. And The Thermals carry that torch with more energy and sophistication than most. It's not a groundbreaking sound, but sometimes it's the only kind that will do. Like the functional winter clothing from which the band takes their name, some things never go out of style, even if you only reach for them seasonally.
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