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The Feelies skitter and saunter onto the stage and start to ferment their brew: the circular logic velvet grind, rapid eye movements of melody, and frequent but concise, frenetic solos. The crowd at the Met is solid and partisan if a wee bit sparse. Glen Mercer's and Bill Million's guitar kicks hit each song's precise up and down strums like two stroke pistons. Brenda Sauter on bass keeps it light and solid and carries the harmonies with Million. Stanley Demeski keeps the chock-a-block time on an assortment of wood blocks, rhythm sticks and tambourines. Dave Wakerman plays a more conventional kit with a great sense of time, forward motion and economy. The interplay between the drummers is subtle and rewards attentive listening.    The tunes insinuate themselves into the ear. A minor hit here, a left of the dial staple there. Even unfamiliar tunes are distinctly Feelies. Like the best players and bands, there is no confusion about who is making these sounds.
   The Feelies are taut, rhythmic, melodic and instantly recognizable. The tone is insistent and spacious except for some sweet and sour distortion and sustain on Mercer's guitar solos. They are business like in their lack of pretension. They don't try to take you on a tour of the sonic diaspora. They walk you around their musical neighborhood. They introduce you to its irresitible nooks and crannies. The music coming from windows makes all the neighbors shimmy.

   They welcome us with When Company Comes, they remind us that It's Only Life, they invite us - Let's Go, and then they take us Away. Slipping (Into Something) is the aggregate of all sounds Feelie. The pull of the easy strum opening, the layering in of the second guitar, drum and vocal, a little hesitation followed by the hollow bone pop of the wood block. Somewhere, kids have their ears down on a hot train track, the murmur is distant but getting closer, the train is coming around the bend, the wheels and the pistons drive it forward. The furnace man shovels in more coal, everything starts to move faster and faster, up and forward the rumble louder and louder. The track vibrates and gets hotter and hotter, your heart is pounding the train is coming, lift your head jump away jump away.

    The Feelies play about thirty songs in their set proper. Then they pay homage to their influences with a generous run of two and three song encores. They go with The Beatles, Neil, Iggy and a three tune Lou salute: a cacophonous version the underappreciated gem I Can't Stand It is followed by clamorous take on White Light, White Heat. They cap the night off with that old kumbaya campfire spiritual Rock n Roll. Yeah, baby.

The Feelies
The Feelies
The Feelies
The Feelies
The Feelies