Capsule Review: The Steps
Every once in a while a band manages to completely surpass the local initiation, breaking out into the national or international scene seemingly out of the blue. Though it's often the case that these bands -- despite well-educated marketing teams by their side -- fling themselves out into the wilds of pop fancy only to be thrown back home to local audiences who have never heard of them, it's not necessarily the rule. The Steps are certainly hoping that's not the rule.
You might not have heard of them, or maybe seen their name in passing, but that's just because you haven't been paying attention. They've toured the world, they recorded their album here in Austin at the Bubble with Frenchie Smith (Dandy Warhols, Meat Puppets), and they played at the New American Music Union in Pittsburgh earlier this summer with Dylan. Besides, they're huge in Japan. That's not a joke, by the way. They are really, really huge in Japan. On first glance, they appear to be another Brit-rock influenced pseudo-garage act, oozing into tight jeans and Chelsea boots each morning with a smirk. Glancing at their one sheet doesn't help: marketing themselves as the "darlings of the Austin indie scene" is a bit of an ... exaggeration, but it does clear some things up. They're not worried about local reception as much as the bands who might actually lay claim to that title. They're out of here, y'all. (Seriously, Japan.) Lately, however, in the midst of a vie for an ACL spot and (possibly) some actual cred in their hometown, we've been given a few more opportunities to actually see them play. They've got a handful of shows lined up here in town (one is at Stubb's on Thursday in a real moment of kismet with Electric Touch), and there are no plans to head overseas again ... yet.
