By Jamie Hill

Whaddaya get when you mix punk, beer, polka, beer, heavy metal, beer, reggae, beer, classical music, beer, and jazz? One AWESOME live show. Camper Van Beethoven is undeniably one of the better bands on the college/independent/unknown circuit today, and with the release of their fourth album, Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart, CVB has firmly established itself as a major creative force (and bonafide source of utter lunacy). Their uniquely bizarre mix of genres never fails to take an unexpected turn, more often than not in the middle of a song, and their music is always complex without being overstatedly so.

But enough music-column cliches. How was CVB live in the flesh at Dartmouth? They kicked ass! Their arrangements were at the same time tight and wildly inventive. More than once during the night a punk reggae ditty would stop dead, and from the silence would rise a monster whirlpool polka groove that sucked the entire audience into its vortex, spinning faster and faster until finally it was the original song again and the entire audience was a seething mass of humanity, thrashing about like there was no tomorrow. Wow.

Victor Krummernacher looked dazed, confused, and more than a bit nerdy (brown on brown flannel plaid? Well . . . ) but, God, did he hold down the fort on the bass. Jonathan Segel, while displaying a markedly holier-than-thou attitude toward his fans, amazed this writer with his flashy violin finger work. Greg Lisher and Cris Pedersen (lead guitar and drums, respectively) were laid-back almost to the point of comatose, but any energy that was lost on stage presence was regained twofold in the performance category. David Lowery’s vocals were mainly unintelligible (except for on ‘Lassie’ and they might just as well have been), but who cares? The feeling in Spaulding Auditorium was one of pure release. Hell, it was better than sex.

Set list? I don’t know! I was too busy moshing (like dancing, only tending toward violent) up front to take notes. I do know that an extended, impromptu-singalong version of “Take The Skinheads Bowling,” CVB’s breakthrough College hit, was sixth on their agenda, right after “Lassie.” I also know that I was personally disappointed because they didn’t play “Where The Hell Is Bill?”, but that’s a relatively small gripe. Besides, the guy with the glasses standing beside me that had been following the band all around said that they never played it, not even for encores.

Speaking of encores, they played “Wasted” (a personal favorite), “Oh No,” and one other whose name escaped me to appease the pumped-up masses. I got a bit worried at first by the fervor with which the mob around me was screaming “Wasted: I’M SO WASTED!!” but then I realized that I was screaming too, and all was O.K. Honestly, if you ever see a CVB show, go sober, because the music is intrinsically confusing and your head would probably explode something from the overload. Rating? A conservative 8.5 out of ten – a definite must-see.