Chain and the Gang and Mahjongg imitate the art at Chicago’s Version Fest

May 2, 2009, at the Co-Prosperity Sphere

By Selena Fragassi
Published: May 5th, 2009 | 12:10am

On the closing night of Chicago’s annual Version Fest, there was definite reason to question whether Ian Svenonius’ new band, Chain and the Gang, was the real deal or just one of the esoteric art exhibits on display. Plugged as a festival to “showcase emerging, progressive trends in art, politics, technology, and music … to see how our peers live and work in a rebooted 21st century,” the room was filled with teepee smoking joints, girls in pinup gear who cooked sausages on a mini-grill, and fashion that looked like it was on a runway to hell.

And then there was Svenonius and company, perched atop a Lego-engineered, Crayola-colored stage at the front of the room. “Do you like outsider art?” he yelled. “Because we are the ultimate insiders!” It was a pattern that would be seen throughout the rest of the night, in both art and music, of how one could provoke an audience simply by being different.

The author and host of the interview chat show Soft Focus is no stranger to such modes of creative delivery, with a long history in musical theatrics, most notably as the lead singer of the defunct D.C. punk outfit, the Make-Up, which dominated the local scene with a homemade blend of “Gospel Yeh-Yeh” style that aimed to find mass appeal in preaching anti-authoritarian political agendas.

But in his latest reincarnation, Svenonius proved he’s no Johnny Rotten and strayed further from his punk roots with a show that became more soft-rock opera than anarchist rebellion. Premiering songs from the band’s April debut, Down with Liberty… Up with Chains! (K Records), Svenonius was joined onstage by a girl in a Navajo dress (exiled from the teepee) wielding a tambourine and pitching in on backing vocals and dialogue skits from the record. They started with “Chain Gang Theme (I See Progress),” a long rant that sounded like Prince squealing about the downfall of American liberty and freedom, which has led to modern-day deadly sins of fast food glutton, war and conquest, and greed, and wealth.

Because the space was set up as a gallery, the muffled speakers were even less effective in broadcasting Svenonius’ messages, which turned up as bloated static on “Reparations” and “What is a Dollar?” Later, “Deathbed Confession” scrambled through a hurried history lesson, trying to solve the conspiracies of JFK, MLK, and Malcolm X and “Trash Talk” was judgment day for a host of unseen characters, not the least a man who’s style could best be described as “birth control.”

Chain and the Gang, no doubt, has an arsenal of catchy songs — if not in lyrics, then in melody, with a ’70s-style Jefferson Airplane aesthetic, but the cult appeal crashes and burns when piloted by such an over-the-top character.

Chicago band Mahjongg followed, albeit in a damp, cold basement so dim you could have tripped over the wires that juiced its electronic set-up. Littered with keyboards and computer screens, the scene looked nothing if not scientific, although the band members are masters at organic instrumentation and ancient tribal rhythms.

Unlike Chain and the Gang, Mahjongg is skilled at quieting its monologues in favor of loud beats that speak for themselves, evidenced by the number of people in spontaneous fits of dancing. In a night of mere spectacle, it was the true mark of a powerful artist.
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For more photos from this show visit Venus Zine's Flickr page
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Review of Mahjongg's Kontpab