See the Robots Walk

Last weekend I paid almost $30 to see the Hives play at Portland’s Roseland Theater.

In retrospect, I'm pretty certain I paid $30 to watch a troupe of cyborgs pretending to be an overtly enthusiastic mod-rock band.

Sweden now rivals Japan in robot production.

The high kicks were all too high, the amp climbing too calculated. The whole spectacle seemed meticulously choreographed, though oddly enough not a single Hive so much as broke a sweat. A shame too, because they each wore adorable black-and-white kerchiefs tucked into the breast pockets of their black-and-white blazers. Obviously for show, as everyone knows droids are incapable of producing humanoid secretions.

Hand securely clamped on hip, frontman Howlin' Pelle Almqvist sashayed across the stage like a RuPaul/Mick Jagger hybrid. He is the amalgam of wild flamboyance and cavalier machismo.

Also, he reminds me of Martin Short in Father of the Bride.

The other, less notable Hives are decidedly uninteresting. The only exception is chiseled drummer Chris Dangerous, who appears to have potential for candidacy on a Real World/Road Rules challenge. The remaining Hives are rudimentary figures behind Almqvist, occasionally mustering a spin or half-hearted karate kick. Mostly, they are going through the motions before heading back to Babylon 5 or wherever it is that robots live when they aren't on tour.

While the Hives certainly put on a rock show, it is a gimmicky one. Their “spontaneous” stage antics are a bit contrived and largely theatrical. Look for them in Vegas, 2020.

- Written by Kate Nacy