Bishop Allen, Mates of State
Space Ballroom
Hamden
Jan. 15, 2025
The crowd that packed Space Ballroom for the double bill of Mates of State and Bishop Allen wasn't ready for it: Without warning, a kid with blond hair took the stage, got in front of the keyboard, and played a quick rendition of Beethoven's "Ode to Joy." With the audience's attention grabbed, the kid looked out over the club.
"Introducing Mates of State!" they said. Without further ado, the duo — Lori Gardner on vocals and keyboards and Jason Hammel on vocals and drums — tore through a set of their songs that lived in the moment while nodding to the way things can sometimes, decades later, come full circle.
"Nice to be home," Gardner said to the crowd near the beginning of their set. Gardner and Hammel first met in Lawrence, Kansas, and lived in California after that. They moved to East Haven in 2004 and moved to Stratford in 2007, and they've lived in the state ever since. The band's longevity and successes — over the years they played Austin City Limits and Lollapalooza, and served for a few months as the touring band for the NPR radio show This American Life — earned them a status as hometown heroes, evinced at once by the adoring crowd who came to see them.
"We're going heavy on the dance material tonight, no slow jams," Hammel said, which proved just fine by the audience. Over the course of their 50-minute set, Mates of State delivered one infectious, uplifting pop anthem after another, their voices and energy sounding as youthful as it does on their debut album, 2000's My Solo Project.
"This is our newest song," Gardner announced halfway through their set. "It's about a year old."
"What's it about?" Hammel asked.
"I'm not going there. We're supposed to be dancing. This is a dance set. No talking."
The commitment to keeping the mood elevated, and the band's ability to move through what is now a deep catalog of songs, brought out the fact that, over a two-decade career, Mates of State has amassed an inexhaustible supply of pop hooks, solid riffs, driving rhythms, and ecstatic vocals. Lyrically, the songs were about different things, but musically, they were about the same thing: creating a huge, warm feeling of togetherness. Every number felt like a triumph, as new and old songs alike commingled in an eternal present. Perhaps the lyrics to "Get Better" hit the hardest; though the song is from 2008's Re-Arrange Us, they had a certain slanted resonance to today: "Forget all your politics for a while / Let the color schemes arrive / Come onboard, it's a curious sight / Absorbing sound that's never been right / Never ahead of, never behind it / Occasionally guarded, just keeps us surrounded / It's luck / Everything's gonna get lighter, even if it never gets better."
The song was an invitation to move beyond the moment we live in, to connect with the past and the future — and for the crowd, to connect more with one another. By then the audience didn't need a lot of prompting.
"This is the most danciest song of the night, so there's your warning," Gardner said toward the end of their set. "I'm looking for it." Looking out over the moving crowd, she surely found it.
The touring double bill of Mates of State and Bishop Allen was another long-term relationship seeing another iteration. The two bands had teamed up for a tour first in 2004, which had included a stop in Wallingford American Legion that November booked by none other than Manic Productions, whose founder, Mark Nussbaum, now does booking for Space Ballroom. Like Mates of State, Bishop Allen — core members Justin Rice and Christian Rudder, backed by a rotating roster of musicians — enjoyed a string of successes beginning in 2003, releasing four albums, placing songs in TV shows, and appearing in the 2008 movie Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. The band went quiet in 2015, but last year announced that it was becoming active again, and this tour marked its first time hitting the road since then.
"We're in the house, the backyard, of Mates of State," Rice said. "We've known them for over 20 years, and we're thankful to be on a tour with them. The energy of the crowd is extending it, and we're very grateful."
From its first three songs, Bishop Allen showed why the bands were a good team. Like Mates of State, Bishop Allen aimed for elevation and uplift, though by somewhat different means: sparse but propulsive beats, simple but not simplistic melodies, and sharp rhythmic turns, with the lyrics coming fast and furious enough to be a rhythmic texture of their own. The crowd responded with hefty cheers.
With the audience on the band's side, Rice indulged in some self-deprecating humor about the age of some of the songs, referring to "my phone bill" and "old-timey modes of transportation that don't exist any more. Is it still relevant? I just want you to know that I've thought about it a lot, and the answer is yes."
As the band warmed up, the rhythms got tighter, the choruses bigger. Underneath the songs' big, inviting structures, it was easy to appreciate the band's attention to detail, in the way the simple elements hung together to create a richer texture, and hear perhaps some subtle nods to pop songwriting from decades past, even as it sounded of the moment as well.
Along the way, Rice and Rudder reveled in the reestablishment of their connection onstage. Halfway through their set, they hit the same chord on their guitars just before starting a song.
"We're playing the same chord, the same way! In the same key!" Rice said. Then he turned to the audience. "You know, when you haven't played with someone for a while, and then you come back, it's remarkable."
"Welcome back!" someone in the audience called.
