Jenny Lewis’ Nice as F**k keeps it nice and neat (as f**k)

Jenny Lewis can’t sit still. That’s the reason she played all those Modelo-fueled mid-pandemic livestreams. And that’s the reason she’s back in Philly to play a small, dark stage with a nearly forgotten side project just a year after bringing down the sold-out house at the Met with Rilo Kiley.

The band is Nice As Fuck. They’re obscure as hell, but they’re also something of an indie rock supergroup, with Lewis on vocals and keys, Erika Forster of Au Revoir Simone on bass, and Tennessee Thomas of The Like and The Clash at Demonhead on drums.

Check it. Not a guitar in sight. Nice as Fuck is not a rock band, not precisely. They’re a dance band. A pop band. A chill and minimalist little post-punk cryptid. They keep the beats chunky and the grooves smooth. The music rarely pushed Ms. Lewis into the belting zone, but it’s just so fuckin’ fun.

This show was intimate. Because while this was the Theatre of Living Arts, NAF was out on the floor, facing each other on a small square riser, lit mostly by a bare bulb peace sign in one corner. Behold, a band of the people, surrounded on all sides with no barriers, dressed in casual attire and red berets. (I want to call them Sliwa-Kinney, but I know in my heart that makes no sense.) But yeah: No backstage. Nowhere to hide. No way to duck out only to return triumphant, because encore ruses are for tricksters and this band prefers the direct approach.

They find what they want to say, and say it again: “I don’t wanna be afraid / Put your guns away,” that’s how “Guns” goes. “Door” says “Don’t close the door” a bunch of times. “Runaway” hypnotizes you with “I am a runaway, runaway” ad delirium. Where Rilo Kiley or Au Revoir Simone may favor sonic complexity and lyrical density, Nice As Fuck likes to air things out, let things ride with repetition. More columns, fewer walls.

With full hearts, the half-capacity crowd was down for the NAF sounds—singing, bobbing and dancing in the dark. Taking the moment in. Feeling very much lucky to be there.

Because, listen. Nice As Fuck sightings are rare things, anomalous as Bigfoot (and twice as warm and fuzzy). They have one record. It’s only got 8.5 songs on it. It came out 10 freaking years ago.

There were no new songs in the set list last night, and we probably shouldn’t expect any in the future. 

Ah, but they did close with a cover—a heart-thumping little medley featuring opening act DJ Alix Brown on bass (two basses!). And it went from “Walk on the Wild Side” into “Can I Kick It?” (as you do), then slid to “When Doves Cry” and finally “Pink Frost” by The Chills.

And that was it. Neat. Not too sweet. Forty, 45 minutes tops, and Nice As Fuck went dancing away, through the people, and into the shadows, off to wherever cryptids go. All we have are blurry memories and blurry photos. Like I said, it was pretty dark in there.