OAR promises sonic revolution, barely paddles by at Blind Pig

By Joshua Gross

Daily Arts Writer

Last Saturday, OAR (Of A Revolution) hit the Blind Pig with about as much force as a Nerf football. Over the course of their set they pumped out their squeaking pop fusion of rock and reggae. Although the audience seemed enthralled, OAR did nothing more than confirm their own musical confinements: They play watered down reggae for white people, serving a clean-cut clientele who can't handle the smell of clove oil and glare suspiciously if they sense an oily dreadlock flopping around next to them, who cringe uncomfortably when the gritty realism of apartheid or racism is depicted through song, who anxiously look at their watches when a song's catchiness is sacrificed for substance and relevance. However, their "clientele" love them, and when they began belting out the catchy "Crazy Game of Poker," the high pitched shrieking reached ear-bleeding decibels.

They tried hard to impress, and impress they did; I alone found myself staring in dismay at the throngs of polished Abercrombie models in slick, spiked hair lip-synching to each droning melody. Reggae requires soul, a sacrifice of ego and glitz, with each musician completely giving him/herself over to the music, a literal revolution of the self. OAR sacrificed nothing. They just played their music. And sometimes that isn't enough.