By Katrina Nattress

Maps & Atlases’ debut LP Perch Patchwork is an extremely well thought out, and equally executed, collection of music. Identifying itself as math rock, each note played by the Chicagoan quartet is precisely planned out, resulting in a 12-track album that sounds more like one 36 minute long piece. Although the band members themselves consider their recorded and live material as two separate entities, I was a bit wary of how the new material would translate in a live setting. The songs on the record flow almost too well, making it hard for me to visualize the band plucking individual tunes from the mass.

This thought still swam in my mind as I stepped from Portland’s warm spring drizzle into the sheltered doors of Berbati’s Pan, but as soon as the foursome appeared on stage and strummed the first note all of my doubts dissipated.

The band’s claims were true; the songs’ dynamics changed drastically when converted from record to performance. Interludes and orchestrations were disposed of, stripping the songs down to their bare essentials—guitar, bass, drums and vocals. What, recorded, was a sweeping soundscape of instrumental layers, was now bare bones southern folk rock. And it kicked ass.

Each band member was in his own world. David Davison feverishly plucked and tapped his guitar strings while bellowing into the microphone. To his left, Erin Elders strummed his guitar, entranced. To his right Shiraz Dada slapped his bass, bouncing lightly to the rhythm of the music he was creating. And behind him, Chris Hainey rapped his drumset, eyes focused on the drumsticks he tightly gripped.

Although Maps & Atlases was not headlining the show, the audience quickly picked up on the energy exuding from the midwestern outfit, and soon everyone migrated from the corners of the bar to the center of the floor, tapping their toes and bobbing their heads to the concise folk indie pop blaring from the speakers. My only complaint about the performance was the length of the set. Forty minutes was enough time to whet my palette, so when Davison announced the band’s last song, I did not feel like I had my fill of this peculiar math rock folk. Next time the foursome heads to Portland, I’m crossing my fingers for a headlining tour.