The Bell House, a new music venue run by the owners of Union Hall, opened its doors by invitation with a "secret" lineup that was revealed to be: Brooklyn band The Mugs, singer Tim Fite and Nada Surf. Unfortunately, Nada Surf never showed up (lead singer Matthew Caws missed his plane in London), but A.C. Newman and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah drummer Sean Greenhalgh were on hand to close the night out for them.

A sign of the gentrifying times in the Gowanus area south of Park Slope, the Bell House building has gone from warehouse space to rock venue in five short months. It was formerly an importing company of "dubious origins and destinations," according to Anthony Suppa, Project Manager of the team that renovated the space. Freed from its dubious origins, if not location, this is a bold spot for a 500-person-capacity venue (350 in the main stage area, 150 in the adjacent bar/lounge), on par size- and ambition-wise with the Bowery Ballroom.

 

Park Slope's influence was definitely present in the lineup, with soft indie group The Mugs opening. Vaguely likeable and just as forgettable, The Mugs warmed up the stage for the absurdist antics of singer Tim Fite. Fite is on Anti-, the label that is also home to Tom Waits and Jolie Holland, and like them he has a penchant for elegiac, country-infused songs and fine-tuned lyrics. Unlike them, he's from Jersey, occasionally raps, and has a full-on preacher cum vaudeville persona, complete with suspenders. Translation: Fite jumps frantically around stage, punctuating lyrics with pointed fingers and raised arms, as he combines childishly-drawn visuals with songs that veer from commanding you to touch your toes to ruminating with dead seriousness on poverty.

That song, "Away from the Snakes," was definitely one of the best of the night, though the crowd seemed a little less than into it. Maybe they were confused by Fite's schizophrenic tone, or maybe the beautiful song's lyrics were giving some would-be gentrifiers a little too much pause: "Heavens to betsy, the man's out to get me, he's raising my rent, and he's taking my money, while the rich get rich, well us poor don't get shit."

Another great song, though, was free from any politics, composed simply of straightforward melody and smart, memorable lyrics. "Everyone gets to make one big mistake," Fite sings. "Tell me a dirty joke and I'll laugh it off lightly. I tell you a dirty joke and you might not like me." Describing his performance as a "dirty joke" might not be that far off. For the people who got the joke, it was a good one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The venue's cavernous stage area is wider than it is long, featuring one of thew few stages in New York that actually projects out into the floorspace