Blowin' Up

Khaela Maricich makes grooving easy.

by Mary Wilson

Despite their clean production, catchy pop beats and energetic vocals, The Blow used to fall under the category of not-quite-danceable. Even songs like 2004's "The Love That I Crave," with its brooding sexual energy and a string of beats sounding ready to snap, could not hold a candle to "Put Your Lighters Up" on the dancefloor.

SUPER DUO: "We were just like, 'Let's make really clean pop songs, like radio-style pop music,'" says Khaela Maricich (right, with Jona Bechtolt). (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

The new Paper Television (K Records) might put an end to all that. Although the Portland, Ore., band has kept its well-earned indie credibility, The Blow is moving closer than ever to the dance-friendly side of the aisle. The album, released late last year, is a mostly up-tempo barrage of electronic beats and keyboard hooks, but without any of the irony, pretentiousness or saccharine polish that characterizes a lot of lo-fi-gone-pop acts. When Khaela Maricich teamed up with Jona Bechtolt (of one-man electronica band YACHT) in 2004, they made a conscious decision to do just that.

"The first records that were mine, I just made and produced them myself and I was exploring what was possible with the tools that I had," says Maricich. "Then when I started collaborating with Jona, he was real savvy electronically and with production, and tha0t's what he had to offer, and so we were just like, 'Let's make really clean pop songs, like radio-style pop music.'" This didn't entail any major changes. Maricich's songs had plenty of hooks even before Bechtolt entered the picture; they were just slower, less predictable, and more likely to involve an upright bass or a Microphones-esque drone than a steady drumbeat.

Yet although The Blow may have tightened up their act rhythmically speaking, there is an open, playful quality to their music. "Long List of Girls" starts with a marching-band-style drum roll that carries the song from beginning to end, occasionally sliding into a brief electronic freak-out and then picking up right where it left off. As Bechtolt clearly knows, nothing goes with order like a little touch of chaos.

This seamless production works well with Maricich's peppy performance style. She dances right through her sets, belting out songs in a breathless alto only occasionally interrupted by onstage banter.

"It never occurred to me how breathless my vocals were until someone said something to me about it a couple of months ago," Maricich laughs. "I was just like, inside of the experience, you know? And I think unconsciously since then I've started dancing less. But my girlfriend is putting me in boot camp and making me work out and stuff ... and go on the treadmill and talk to her so I can get better at [singing and dancing at the same time]. Because it's nice to be able to have people actually hear you singing." Nice, yes, but Maricich's onstage charisma should not be underrated.

At a 2005 show following the release of the Poor Aim: Love Songs EP (which was recently re-released with remixes), she was all but climbing up the walls. "Look up there," she called from the stage, jumping up and gesturing to a hole in the drop ceiling. "I bet none of you guys would climb up there; you'd be too scared. You'd probably have a girl go up there ahead of you." Following this friendly challenge, Maricich launched into "What Tom Said About Girls," a gently satirical song that manages to link the old pastime of catcalling to men's general fear of the universe. "I see you walking down the street, driving in my car," she croons, putting on the voice of "Tom," "and you look good to me. You look like a beacon of light, beaming in the night. I feel safe, so I'm like, 'Hey baby!'"

Maricich's onstage antics are not without precedent. Most of the artists on the close-knit K Records label try to stretch the boundaries of the performer/audience dynamic. "Watching people like Calvin Johnson and Nikki McClure really opened up my eyes to what was possible onstage," says Maricich, recalling her first time seeing Johnson perform live. "Something was wrong with the sound and people were talking and everything ... and then [Johnson] just moved up to the crowd and started singing this song a cappella, in the middle of people not being reverently quiet and paying attention to him, necessarily. That definitely shaped me — that sense of informality and possibility, basically opening yourself up to being considered a complete weirdo. That also produces a lot of room for you to be onstage and do whatever you want." Hopefully, Maricich's workout sessions have helped her regain confidence. It just wouldn't be right if the people in the audience were the only ones dancing.

(editorial@citypaper.net)

Fri., March 9, 8 p.m., sold out, with Mirah and The Weeds, First Unitarian Church, 22nd and Chestnut sts., 866-468-7619, www.r5productions.com.