Tokyo Police Club Concert Review: A Final Victory Lap for a ’00s Band of Brothers

The garage rock revival took its time arriving to the Toronto suburbs, but once it did, Tokyo Police Club was born. Between performing songs at Boston’s iconic Paradise Rock Club on Nov. 16, frontman Dave Monks reminisced about their fourth-grade class, late night rehearsals on high school weeknights, and their first shows in Boston.

The band has never been shy to honor their influences — some of their early cuts endearingly emulate The Strokes or LCD Soundsystem. The opening to their show, for instance, was the distorted synth intro of “Favorite Food” from their 2010 album “Champ” — a Broken Social Scene-esque sonic blanket over the crowd.

Minutes later, though, when Josh Hook sent a sparkly guitar line soaring over the track, Tokyo Police Club was entirely their own. The band kept the energy up through three more tracks from “Champ” — ahead of “Breakneck Speed,” Monks asked the crowd if the “Champ” CD resided for the last decade in their cars. When the crowd echoed the chorus lyric “It’s good to be back,” it was clear that the answer was a resounding yes.

Catching their breath and soaking in the crowd’s joy, the band prepared for a handful of songs from their yearning 2008 album, “Elephant Shell”. The setlist was crafted for the band to play cuts from one album at a time, allowing the band to immerse in that album for a handful of songs. For a farewell tour, this was a clever approach — each uninterrupted stint gained momentum as they became their old selves, limbs languid and smiles beaming like the pack of high schoolers they once were.

Monks, with glitter under his eyes, spoke to the crowd candidly about the adolescent energy that was palpable in the set. The cuts from “Elephant Shell” held that very energy, which defined the momentum of the remainder of the show. The driving drum lines and recession-era angsty lyrics spoke to the room more than ever — the global scape of uncertainty that shrouded the band in their inception happens to be back in full swing on their farewell tour.

Moving into their 2018 self-titled album, “New Blues,” the group leaned further into the angst. Pleading and heavy, the track ended with the first true guitar solo of the set — Hook’s moment was spine-chilling; the guitar seemed to convey words that lyrics couldn’t capture. “New Blues” was the only standout of their newer cuts, the rest of the act missing the nostalgic luster of the rest of their set.

Revisiting “Champ,” “Hands Reversed,” and “End of a Spark” was heartfelt and achingly honest. Throughout the set, each song’s outro was deliberate — “End of a Spark” being put to rest with grace. Whether it was a swelling synth, an over-the-top drum fill, or a squealing distortion, every song was tucked into bed fittingly. It was an act of sympathy to the Boston fans that were hearing each Tokyo Police Club song live for the very last time.

The set’s unexpected highlight was “Argentina (Parts I, II, and III)”, a meandering 10-minute song with instrumentals that stretched wide and filled the room, countered by vocals from Monks that spoke gently to the audience. The kick drum offered a communal heartbeat to the space. It was triumphant for all ten minutes, with a polished, laid-back excellence — digging his heels in until the last beat, Monks couldn’t hide the pride on his face. It was the kind of musical opus that high schoolers in a garage band would only dream of.

They kept the energy as they finally arrived at their first album, “A Lesson in Crime”, driving through “Nature of the Experiment,” “Citizens of Tomorrow,” and “Shoulders & Arms” while beaming the whole way through. As if they’d been working towards the moment for the whole set, they became fully-fledged kids on stage, emotions raw like the teenagers that wrote the album.

The encore featured “Cheer It On,” an early cut that cheekily indulges the band in name-dropping themselves. Somehow, though, this was not an act of ego. Instead, it was as though the band was paying homage to their past selves, putting their teen angst into the world in a room full of people who heard them loud and clear.

—Staff writer Asha M. Khurana can be reached at asha.khurana@thecrimson.com.