After the spate of cool nights we had in Philly recently, the smattering of red leaves in the tree by my stoop seemed a sure sign of fall. It's coming in any case. My summer classes are over, and I'm getting announcements of winter schedules from theater companies.
But summer concerts aren't over yet. Tonight as I was walking home from West Philly, I heard music coming from Rittenhouse Square, and I remembered that Dr. Dog was scheduled to play there. They've been getting a lot of press, so I wandered over to see them.
The band consisted, tonight anyway, of two guitarists, a drummer, and a five- or six-piece brass section. The guitarists were both in fedoras and the drummer was, I think, wearing a beret. This seemed promising: not only did they wrangle together a brass section, but the fedoras and beret suggested a strong sense of identity.
The music also suggested a developed sense of identity, but that identity is not as distinctive as it could be. The vocalist's style is nearly identical with Wayne Coyne's. And in fact, Dr. Dog's music sounds in all respects very much like the Flaming Lips.
If you're going to emulate a band, you could of course do much worse than the Flaming Lips. But Dr. Dog, a local band, our band, is getting national attention. The last thing they or we are going to want to hear is that they're a less clever, less innovative version of the Flaming Lips. They need to work on making their identity their own.
