They Might Be Giants Are Free

“TMBG will be performing a live set of songs and signing their new DVD and CD ‘Here Come the ABCs.’ Original songs with animations, puppetry and performance—whether it is your first time around with the alphabet or you just want a highly entertaining refresher course—‘Here Come the ABCs is for you. Everyone is welcome!”

A hop on the oft-maligned, underrated Metro Red Line and I’m on my way to Amoeba Music for a free in-store performance by nerd-rock gods They Might Be Giants. I have never been want for friends with hefty TMBG archives in their homes and in their brains, but I find that the LA kids are just not down for the cause. K, the only candidate who knows “Fingertips” as well is I do, is in Palm Springs. So I go it alone. And the train is packed out like a Tokyo subway. “No one uses it,” I’ve heard some people say about the Red Line. Clearly they are misinformed. This is the train line that was originally supposed to go the entire length of the Wilshire Corridor, all the way to the sea. Beverly Hills businessmen put a stop that, however, and the Metro route map will remain an embarrassment for the next twenty years to come.

Amoeba is large and airplane hangar-ish and the aisles are filled with fans, age two to seven and twenty-four to fifty. There really aren’t too many teenagers around. The show starts and three dozen dads put their hip children on their shoulders and start dancing. The crowd, kids included, goes nuts. It’s like those huge outdoor rock concerts where girls in bikini tops get on top of their boyfriends’ shoulders and everyone goes crazy even though their good view is being obstructed. Except now the loose girls in bikinis are cute little kids in stocking caps and cool sweaters. Two three year olds next to me are holding “Go Go Go for G!” signs and entreating the two Johns onstage to take requests.

I soon discover that these drooly homunculi have a better grasp on TMBG’s current body of work than I do. These kids know the words! They sing along to raucous versions of “Alphabet of Nations” and “E Eats Everything” while I listen politely. But the same thing happens to them when “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” and a funky, bass-slapping version of “Particle Man” come on. The kids listen, hearing these new songs, trying to parse the weird lyrics. They have a fight, Triangle wins. Triangle Man.

Halfway through “Robot Parade” the two Johns start pogoing up and down. All the kids and dads and moms and single guys and couples follow suit. Everyone has huge smiles on their faces. It really is bizarre. A four year old and a forty year old can love the same material for the very same reason. And why not? How can anyone deny the genius of “E Eats Everything”?

Next to me a pierced-out half-Goth couple is bopping around with goofy, blissful expressions on their faces. They Might Be Giants is making music for kindergarteners and they still rock harder than Linkin Park.