Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at Thalia Hall.
20 years after the release of their debut album, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah prove that they’re still worth the hype.
photo taken by Alex Malm.
In June 2005, when Pitchfork gave Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s self-titled album a 9.0, it rocked the indie rock world. If you listened, there were plenty of people who would tell you that the band was the light at the end of the tunnel for a genre that many believed was over the hill. A fully independent group, no PR team, no label, completely self-releasing all of their projects, and making damn good music. People were excited.
Or at least I’m pretty sure they were. They should’ve been. When the band first formed, I wasn’t even born yet, and when their debut was released, I was coming up on the end of my first year. As much as I’d like to sit here and tell you I was a rocking infant, I can’t. I only found out about Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (CYHSY) a couple years ago, when, amidst a dining hall conversation with the Resident Head of my dorm house on the subject of Pitchfork, he mentioned the name with quite a bit of enthusiasm, asking me if I had heard of them. From context clues I knew they were a band that was, so to speak, Pitchfork famous. Probably indie, definitely popular with millennials, possibly a little bit past their prime. I weighed my options. Not wanting to let him down and riding the high of his excitement, I told a lie.
“Of course I have! They’re so good!”
Obviously, this isn’t the kind of hole that I could just dig myself into and not try to get out of. When I got back to my room that evening, the first thing I did was look up this mysterious band that had incited such enthusiasm. I discovered, as luck would have it, that I had only told half a lie. I hadn’t heard of CYHSY, but on my first listen I could already tell that they were really good. Sporting killer songwriting and a unique sound (thanks in large part to the off-kilter vocals of lead vocalist, songwriter, and since 2014, the sole member of the group, Alec Ounsworth), Clap Your Hands Say Yeah quickly became a major part of my rotation.
For me, it’s only been a couple years of knowing and loving this group, but for many, it’s been two decades. While waiting in line at CYHSY’s May 3rd show at Thalia Hall, part of a world tour celebrating the twentieth anniversary of their debut album, I overheard a group of people solidly around my parents’ age reminiscing. One couple recounted how they had been banging CYHSY’s debut when they first started dating. Another talked about how big of a deal CYHSY were in college. To say I felt out of place wasn’t incorrect. When I got into the venue and people began to stream in, though, I saw that I wasn’t the only young person there. Sure, the crowd trended older, but there was a more diverse array of fans than I could’ve anticipated. A group of 20-somethings stood to my right, just behind me was a group of older women, and a few rows further back, I could see a dad and son.
How CYHSY could still attract all these different people to come see them became clear as soon as they started playing. As Ounsworth sprang into a modified rendition of the opening track of their debut, the odd, off-putting “Clap Your Hands,” and his warbly voice sprang out over the crowd, I could feel the anticipation building in and around me. My thoughts went back to that original Pitchfork review, where Brian Howe called the song “the weirdest, most potentially grating bit of snake-oil salesmanship you're likely to hear until Tom Waits puts out another record.” Indeed, it’s a strange way to open an album, and by extension a show, but it helps to outline what Ounsworth is all about. He’s got a singing voice that can sound like nails on a chalkboard to some, but which lends itself well to the indie sound. At times, his songs may not sound like anything that’s come before them, but it seems almost as if by some miracle that they end up sounding like they were perfectly crafted, everything solidly in its right place. When Ounsworth performs, he’s definitely not as flashy as some of his contemporaries, but on stage, he commands the audience’s attention and carries himself with a subtle sort of charisma. Watching him throughout the set, it was clear how much Ounsworth enjoyed being on stage, playing these songs, cracking smiles at his bandmates and bantering with the audience (something he says he used to do out of a sense of obligation but now relishes).
Any fears the song could’ve elicited in the audience, however, were rapidly assuaged when the band jumped into “Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away.” Hearing a bassline which had been seared into my mind and watching it being performed right before my eyes flipped a switch in my mind, and suddenly I could feel the sound not just washing over me, but flooding into the very core of my body. Whether my close proximity to the subwoofers had anything to do with this was of little concern to me. All I knew at that moment was that I was right where I wanted to be, and the years that I had been supporting the band (as well as the hour-long trip to Thalia Hall from my apartment) were well worth it. I could see the guy to my right start to sing along, and like it was second nature, I joined in. The two of us were joined by a couple more people, and after a bit more time a whole group of us were jamming to the song and echoing Ounsworth’s off-kilter crooning.
photo taken by Alex Malm.
As the band worked their way through Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, the crowd’s energy gradually ramped up. The biggest hit of the night was definitely “By the Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth.” I’m sure most of the people in the room knew it was coming after “Details of the War,” but with the first sound of the electric guitar at the song’s beginning, a roar erupted. Despite (or perhaps as a result of) a comment that the crowd was well-behaved at this show, a couple people decided to take the show’s energy into their own hands, interjecting shouts and screams into the song. It was great. No amount of listening to the song on streaming could possibly compare to how good it felt to hear live.
Once they reached the end of the album, the other members of the band left the stage and the lights dimmed. From his place alone in the center of the stage, Ounsworth began to play a solo cover of Johnny Thunders’ “You Can’t Put Your Arms Round a Memory.” With his solo guitar and voice isolated from the normally loud and rambunctious tenor of the full band, the song took on a vulnerability that wasn’t present during the first half of the set. In classic form, of course, the band returned halfway through the song to liven up the energy at the second chorus and kick off the second half of the show the right way. After finishing the cover, Ounsworth and the band launched right into a short set of songs from the five albums Clap Your Hands Say Yeah have released since their debut. The clear hit was “Satan Said Dance” from their second album, Some Loud Thunder. During the performance, Ounsworth worked the crowd for the only time during the set, encouraging us to join in on a shout during the hook. He even stepped down onto the subwoofer immediately in front of the barricade, getting as close to the audience as one possibly could without standing among them. I was a bit surprised, as Ounsworth didn’t seem at first to be the kind of performer who has very much involvement, but he was clearly having fun, and I was loving it.
After a short encore featuring two songs from CYHSY’s most recent albums, the band left the stage to a roar of applause from an audience who clearly had a good time. Even though I wasn’t quick enough to get a copy of the 20th anniversary rerelease, I counted myself among them. Despite my love of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, it had always seemed like an album borne of its environment, and I was pleasantly surprised at how well the music played in a live setting. Ounsworth and the rest of the band’s performance was tight, and it seemed clear to me that two decades playing these songs and releasing new ones had not diminished Ounsworth’s excitement for the art. There’s a simple pleasure to seeing music played live that I find is often lost among bands that focus too much energy on turning shows into spectacles. To me, seeing Clap Your Hands Say Yeah was easily one of my favorite concerts I’ve ever attended for the simple fact that I got exactly what I wanted: great music played well.
Now, having both familiarized myself with their music and seen them live, I count myself among the lucky ones who have both heard of and appreciate Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s music. They may not have much notoriety among the younger generations, and I doubt anything they release would play well on TikTok, but that doesn’t make the music any less fantastic. Twenty years ago, Alec Ounsworth and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah released a truly great album, and over the course of two decades, though they haven’t surpassed the project, they’ve managed to stick around. And that’s definitely worth something.
edited by Arjun Bhakoo.
photos taken by Alex Malm.