The CAPYAC Slap-Pack: A dream? Heaven? You were there! And you were there too!
Capyac plays Scoot Inn
I had a dream this past Saturday night that I saw Capyac play at Scoot Inn. It’s a dream I still haven’t woken up from. At least I can’t really be sure. Onstage was a legion of angels surrounded by cruise ship paraphernalia, blue skies with unrealistically fluffy clouds, and a pig, that, as it turns out, was demented. I went to work on Monday and to my surprise, my coworker had the same dream Saturday night.
“I thought the show was just ok.”
Oh… I had thought the show was just… very good.
Ethereal Flute x Austin Johnson
I almost didn’t go to the show because all of my money is tied up in the pro-bono freelance music journalism and the internship long-term dividends options markets. So Saturday night, I was at a friend’s house, competitively launching plywood pieces into a wheelbarrow with a shovel from a distance of 20 paces in a crusty rendition of BASEsketball, when I got the text from my editor. There was a ticket with my name on it at Scoot Inn.
One prolonged hair-raising zig-zag down I-35 and I was there, walking into the sold-out venue. Around me were a congregation of costumed fans: angels, giant birds, beach goers (there is no beach in Austin, TX), cherubs, and the like. Who were these freaks?
Capyac x Austin Johnson
I had first heard about Capyac 5-6 years ago while attending UT. Around this time, funk was making an audacious comeback into popular music (let’s all thank Daft Punk really quickly). What I remember listening to of Capyac on Soundcloud in those days was nothing crazy, just thoughtfully produced music with funk elements and sexy synth.
My early memories of the group must have been like Capyac Beta v.1.03242842948 or something because apparently we’re now on Capyac v.5.6 now. What started as a two man operation has snow-balled into a large full-bodied band of talented musicians with great and strange senses of humor. I couldn’t count the number of members on my fingers and am unsure of the territory that lies beyond my right thumb. To be clear, also, if you’re in a 10+ person band out there and aren’t impressed by the numbers, Capyac’s big band could kick your big band’s ass.
“Funk and disco making their quiet entrance back onto the scene”
If I was paying attention, the set was an act in three parts. A lot happened. We experienced samba breaks, rap features, general weirdness, synth riffs that could serve as the soundtrack of Mario’s love life, an emergency airplane landing, and a pissed off pig.
Songs like Speedracer carried a bare but persuasive original recording, made not-so-bare with a 10+ person band. Each instrumentalist cleanly filled the scaffolding established by the original song. The variety of keys, strings, vocals, percussion, and brass were apparently excellently rehearsed. Nothing ever fought for attention, sounded redundant or came across as overwhelming in the set. The bells and whistles attached to Capyac’s show aren’t there to distract you from the music. You don’t have to try to enjoy any of the songs; they come to you.
The Pig and the Angel x Austin Johnson
While your body dances on, below conscious involvement, the eyes get the more active workout at a Capyac show: “look at the pig”, “oh wow, when did the singer change into a flight attendant’s uniform?”, [SPOILER] “they’re bringing back the string section from the beginning of the show”, “a vampire! He’s tap-dancing!”, [END SPOILER] “one of the drummers is going OFF right now.”
Maybe a dream isn’t the only appropriate metaphor for a Capyac show. It was like one of those near death experiences you read about other people having; like a child wandering into a ritzy, heaven nightclub. The band of cherubs and angels did not feel properly staged with their feet on the ground. It would have felt appropriate if the ensemble was hanging from the ceiling on wires, or better yet, floating.
Another apt archetype for the show would be the circus. OR, better once more, like the circus died and went to heaven and kept the show on the road. There was a costume competition mid-show (Big Bird won). They had a beaked ringmaster, a fast-talking charlatan who would intermittently march onstage to make a nasally announcement. The affair was presentational and self-aware. But, back to the dream metaphor.
Big Band Boogie x Austin Johnson
You know when you try to share a dream? The story goes through insane transitions, nothing quite make sense, and at the end you realize you sound like a rambling idiot. You just want to emphasize that the whole thing was amazing. This is the same terra inedicabilis a Capyac concert lives in. Enjoyable… and at once weird. The two are rarely exclusive. That’s Zaza? That’s Zaza!
File under: Escapist Music Experiences; Mario in Love; The One Dream; Witnessing the Pig; Angel Circus.