I've Seen Choir Boy Four Times

Taking a moment to be grateful for the Market Frankford Line

Choir Boy, Now That’s Class, 2019

In the fall of 2017, I went to Europe. I participated in the indulgent ritual of study abroad in the first semester of my junior year, having grown sick of the tiny college town I’d been inhabiting and curious to see how I could make it work somewhere much different. It didn’t hurt that going to Europe had such a meaningful impact on my financial aid I was, effectively, paid to go to Europe, and the lump sum from school in my account covered the net cost for my next three semesters. It was, effectively, cheaper to go to Europe than stay in Ohio.

But, I knew that I’d miss my radio show. It was the thing keeping me tethered to my music obsession. At the time, I relied almost entirely on my Discover Weekly and influencer-curated Spotify playlists (specifically David Dean Burkhart’s Compact Cassette playlist) to feed me new music. Discovery through shows at my on-campus venue or from social media wasn’t happening at the speed or ease I wanted. As much as I look back on that reliance and chastise myself a little, I have to thank Burkhart for helping me find Choir Boy. He included “Two Lips” on a special Halloween edition of the playlist, which I gobbled up enthusiastically at a student café in Prague while reading about gender (probably). It was heavy on goth, post-punk, synthwave, and other eerie genres. Adam Klopp’s unsettlingly angelic voice was a strong fit.

Since the mid-2010s, Choir Boy has been making a goth & punk-inspired synthpop that puts them in conversation with everyone from John Maus (I know, I know) to Bryan Ferry. Their debut, Passive With Desire, came out on Team Love in 2016, the Conor Oberst-curated label and onetime home for Tilly and the Wall that also served as a launchpad for Long Beard, Joanna Sternberg, and Yours are the Only Ears. Between “Dark Room,” “Hellmouth,” “Blood Moon,” and more, Passive showcased, above all else, Adam’s voice, which he honed as a member of Northeast Ohio’s youth choruses. But, the lyricism and hypnotic, hazy instrumental backings match Adam’s unusual delivery. In 2017, the band moved to Dais Records, the strongest purveyors of today’s goth, industrial, and synth punk. It’s a match made in heaven. Dais dropped the Sunday Light EP, a sleeper hit in their discography. The band’s 2020 album, Gathering Swans, offers some of the band’s catchiest songs (“Toxic Eye,” “Complainer”, “Shatter”) alongside more esoteric, moving compositions (“Gathering Swans,” “St. Angela Merici”). Before the band dropped “Complainer,” I’d spent weeks listening to FKA twigs’ Magdalene on repeat, so I was grateful that something could snap me out of it.

Since 2019, I’ve been lucky enough to see the Salt Lake City-based band play four times: twice in 2019, once headlining and once opening for Ceremony, at Now That’s Class in Cleveland (nka No Class), once at Grog Shop in 2022, again in Cleveland, and as of last week, once at Johnny Brenda’s in Philly. Every performance they offer is class: aided and abetted by Michael Paulsen (guitar), Chaz Costello (bass), and Jeff Kleinman (keys and sax), audiences of all persuasions are easily enraptured, especially by Adam’s scary enthusiastic vocal delivery. If you think his voice sounds unusual in recording, it’s really unique live. And that guy can belt.

At this point in my life, I don’t think I have a “favorite” band; there are too many and I oscillate between favorites all the time. But Choir Boy is my most recent favorite band. Between 2017 and 2020, they dominated my listening habits, alongside Mr. Twin Sister, Tess Roby, and TOPS.

This Philly show felt really special, and not just because Adam performed a good chunk of “Nites Like This” an octave higher than usual, an already high place in any man’s vocal range.

At all three shows in Cleveland, I needed my car to get there. I’m a lifelong west-sider (minus 9 months in Little Italy), so Grog Shop was a 20-30 minute drive there. Before I worked there, it wasn’t uncommon for me not to get to the gig because it felt far and I felt lazy. Getting to Class on transit was vaguely reliable if I really wanted to, but the RTA didn’t have renewable fare cards and I had immediate car access and it’s a 7-minute drive.

Now, I live in West Philadelphia, a quick walk away from the Market Frankford line. Often called the “el” since it’s above ground for most of its journey, the Market Frankford goes from the inner ring suburb of Upper Darby all the way to Frankford, a northeast Philadelphia neighborhood that marks the transition from the old, dense city to a slightly younger, slightly more suburban city. Johnny Brenda’s is right on the el. I wrapped up a Zoom call to record Girl’s Room, grabbed my wallet & keys, and hopped on the el with more than enough time to catch the opener, Philly’s Night Sins. When Choir Boy closed out their show with “Complainer,” it was easy to dart out the side door and get back on the train towards West Philly. It was all so easy.

I don’t have too much to offer intellectually on the matter. I’m just grateful I live in a city with functional transit. I’ve used the trolleys, the buses, and both metro trains to get to shows. I don’t need my car if I don’t want it. And it feels so, so good to leave it behind.

Not in the mood to check my spelling. I’ll deal with it later.