The crowd
Small, dedicated, mostly white, mostly male.

The drinks
Totally unavailable. All bars at the Knitting Factory were closed that night. Though, a helpful security guard did suggest that I go to nearby Long’s Drugs, pound a beer, and return.

Opening act
I saw the last few songs of The Show is a Rainbow (a solo multimedia experience performed by Darren Keen). I have not seen anything like this before: Keen eschewed the stage in favor of singing from the middle of the dancefloor, explained one song as having been inspired by being hit in the face with other men’s penises while his mother had sex with assorted partners while he was in utero, and used the phrase “buckle the fuck up” at least 10 times. Thank you, Darren Keen.

The outfit
Before beginning his set, Grainger removed his shirt, tightened his suspenders, and affixed multicolored Ray Bans to his face. My attraction flowed as freely as his sweat.

The Plea
Sebastien, come back, play a venue that serves alcohol, and don’t play “It’s a Living” or “Niagara” to me ever again.

Set List
Love can be so Mean
Who do we care for?
I’m all the Rage
(I am Like a) River
By Cover of Night (Fire Fight)
It’s a Living
I Hate My Friends (extended)
American Names
Renegade Silence
Meet New Friends
Niagara

MORE SEBASTIENS
» Sebastien Grainger (Myspace)
» Sebastien Tellier @ Henry Fonda Theater, December 3, 2008

One more “Sebastien” live review and I will add a full-on “Sebastien” category, gang. Hop to it. -ed

General synopsis: I think Radiohead was made for venues like the Hollywood Bowl. Large but not enormous, beautiful scenery, and a good backdrop for some aesthetic lighting choices. Though my seats were about as far away as you can be, I still felt very connected to everything happening onstage. This is in part due to Radiohead’s extremely tight production values and transcendent sound, but also the utmost respect with which most of their fans regard them. A few of my friends who saw them two nights earlier at Outside Lands complained that everyone was talking through the Radiohead set, but distracting chatter was at a minimum on Sunday, even up in the illegal smoking section where I was.

Crowd looked like: White people of all ages, who brought a few of their Asian friends. Not as many man-vests as I expected.

Opening act: I was in the bathroom or the beer line for most of The Liars set. I would describe them as art house rock, and are not my cup of tea. If I liked their music I would have been impressed by their show, but they would benefit from a smaller venue.

Security factor: Hit or miss at the gates. I was made to empty my Solo cup, but my bag wasn’t really searched. Inside, my friend was nicely asked to put out his cigarette, but smoking underneath the seat was (apparently) permitted. Dancing in the aisles was allowed, thankfully.

Set list here.

Yo Majesty: I don’t really like their sound, but it was impossible not to have fun watching Jwl and Shunda perform the shit out of tracks like Kryptonite Pussy and Club Action. The first I ever learned of Yo Majesty was from this very site (here); sadly, this show did not contain any exposed breasts or Mr. T dolls. But it did contain a lot of energy and two cute lady breakdancers.

Crowd: Young and very polite. DIOYY had more people there than Yo Majesty. I can see DIOYY successfully playing larger venues, but I think Yo Majesty should keep it small and sweaty.

General vibe: Your dad got drunk at the best Fourth of July barbeque he has ever attended. I would estimate that 10% of the audience was under 30; most of the rest were in solid dad territory. Some were drunk dads, some were sober dads (lots of bottled water). Some were reminiscing hippie dads, who loved the inclusion of “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” in the encore. Whoever was in the control booth was a responsible dad, as the volume was not painfully loud. This was the first show I have been to in over a year where I have not been compelled to put in earplugs.

My motivation: Unlike most of the people there (I assume), I am not a die-hard Tom Petty fan. The only Petty material I own is a copy of “Stop Draggin’ my Heart Around” with Stevie Nicks that was on heavy rotation after devastating college breakup. But I figured if I like his Heartbreakers material, I like the Troubadour, and I like forays of his peers into bluegrass territory (e.g. Jerry Garcia and David Grisman albums), I would like this show. My expectations were exceeded, and I was very impressed with the guitar playing of Tom Leadon and Mike Campbell.

Anecdote: A really loud, drunk middle-aged couple was next to me at the bar. The male part of this couple eventually fell off his barstool twice. The woman part was wearing a t-shirt advertising a 1981 show at the LA Colliseum, featuring the Rolling Stones as headliners, with opening acts J. Geils Band, George Thorogood & The Destroyers, and Prince. Someone approached this woman and said he had been at that show, and they discussed their shared memory of Prince wearing crazy shoes and getting booed off the stage. I guess Prince had the last laugh on that one.

Incomplete, out of order set list:

Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again
Off the Hook
Summertime Blues
Shakin’ at the High School Hop
Queen of the Go-Go Girls
Lover of the Bayou
Crystal River
Topanga Cowgirl
Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
Bill Monroe song (I missed the title)

Audience looked like: Mid-late twenties white dudes who want to dance. I expected some Cobrasnake fashions, but there was not a lot of outlandish attire or superfluous posing (judging from Sung’s photos, all those people were too hungover from the Justice show to make it out). There was a small but noticeable gay contingent, and a few girls who looked like they got lost on the way to a Playboy audition. Overall, similar to the El Rey MSTRKRFT audience, but more polite and with less drug paraphernalia.

Opening act: When we first walked in, I looked onstage and thought to myself “Not too often you see a female dj at a show like this. That’s rad.” I later figured out it was not a chick, but one guy from Guns N Bombs. His set was pretty underwhelming: one dude, one laptop, curtains drawn. Bass-heavy thump music I associate with after-hours gay clubs where randoms ask you for crystal meth. This is your hometown show and you can’t even get both members of the group on stage? Guns N Bombs, you disappoint me.

Suggestions for the El Rey: Please get your sound figured out. Add bathrooms for ladies. Never get rid of the creepy middle aged white guy who works the door. He’s part of what makes you special.

Musings on cash flow: Apparently, $14 is now standard for a large draft beer. My pre-game intensity will increase accordingly. Also, the parking garage on Cochran is now $15. I remember it being much cheaper, but I guess everyone is feeling the pain of the record-high grain prices. Next time, I walk.

Friday night at the Fonda [Feb 29] looked like some kind of cotillion after party gone terribly awry. Packs of pre-pubescent boys roamed the roof deck looking for floaters, girls in Cobrasnake-approved leggings and Wayfarers staged their own photoshoots, public makeout sessions abounded, and everywhere you turned, some poor overdosed soul was slumped on the floor, hanging over a railing, or just sitting in a chair, vomiting.

However, no number of underage hooligans could dim the flame of my excitement. Since the day Josh Homme led me to DFA 1979, which in turn led me to MSTRKRFT, I have been smitten. Their set at Coachella last year was my personal Sahara tent highlight. I like to dance, I like to sweat, I like to be surrounded by other people who are dancing and sweating. I do not like to be surrounded by people clearly having a bad Ecstacy experience, but some things can’t be helped.

The MSTRKRFT set was what I expected: loud, fast, fun. I recognized a few songs from The Looks (“Easy Love,” “Paris,” “Neon Nights”); most of their set seemed to be new material, which gives me hope that a second album is approaching. They went on close to midnight, and played til after 1. A sidewalk interview with a street meat patron sporting braces verified my suspicions that a large number of the crowd was around the age of 13.

Opening acts, in brief:
LA Riots: Fun. Minimal sampling, not as techno as Boys Noize, not as bass-heavy as Justice.
Z Trip: Uninspired scratching over college bar favorites like ACDC and Guns N Roses. I spent most of his set on the roof deck, observing antics of the aforementioned young people.

NIGHT TWO: El Rey [2 March 2008]
Something about night one was strangely unsatisfying, so I showed up to the El Rey at 11 pm on Sunday to make good. Thankfully, JFK and ALP were already on stage. The scene was similar: same posse of dudes on stage too busy taking pictures of themselves to dance, same dance-happy crowd, some with glow sticks and pacifiers, and same menacing hockey mask backdrop. The large swarms of very young people too blackout to have fun were missing, however, which made for a much more music-centric evening. I drank my $6 Bud Light (size small, from tap), bopped around, inhaled some second-hand smoke, and had a great time.

I arrived around 9:30. Louis XIV had already finished their set (which I wanted to see), and people were milling about to buy $14 large draft beers. The crowd was full of white guys in their 30s with hair product. Other prominent demographics included Latino and Asian guys in their 30s, with hair product. The women present were pretty unremarkable. As far as crowds go, this was one of the most conservative that I have seen in recent memory.

Hot Hot Heat took the stage, and launched into an energetic set of material new enough to be totally unfamiliar to me, as well as hits from Make Up. Their vibe was more pop than rock, an image that was enhanced by the fact that lead singer Steve Bays resembled Justin G., fallen contestant from American Idol Season 1, due to large hair. I’m not sure how much of the crowd was there to see them specifically, but a few people standing near me knew all the words to each of their songs. HHH was entertaining, but I feel they may be better suited to a smaller venue. Like, an Urban Outfitters store opening.

While we waited for (The?) Editors to take the stage, the crowd was invited to participate in the game allowing you to send a text message to be displayed on the large screen above the stage. Judging by the messages there, the concertgoers voted for Obama, thought Bays looked more like Carrot Top than Justin G., and still finds the “I am sofa king we todd did” joke fresh and hilarious.

Then, it was Editors time. The venue was more crowded than it was during HHH, but nowhere near maximum capacity. I expected the set to be kind of a snooze, based on my two-song preview (not a comment on Editors’ skill/genius/excellence; rather, because this is not the kind of music I listen to, ever). But, I was very pleasantly surprised. Their show was controlled and tight, without sacrificing energy. I got the impression that this is a group of sensitive dudes who take their craft seriously, but enjoy performing. Lead Tom Smith changed instrument after every song, and had the distracting mannerisms of a child with Down Syndrome leading the LA Philharmonic; other than that, the band indulged in no real antics or banter. Set was long enough, followed quickly by a 3-song encore.

Photography by Erin’s cell phone. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction punishable by law.

FURTHER HOT-HOT-HEATEDNESS
» Hot Hot Heat Takes 4th Place in our 2007 Best Concert Reader’s Poll with 274 votes (!?)
» Hot Hot Heat @ Greek, 2007

Audience looked like: KCRW fundraiser date night. Not quite Silverlake, not quite Venice, the crowd was late-20s to mid/late-30s, co-ed, white, happy to be there. Notable exceptions included dad with approximately 8 year old daughter in front of me, and old dude in Canadian tuxedo with long white hair and matching beard.

High points: Every song was really great. The guy may be a nutjob but he certainly is talented. I am a fan since the Heartbreaker days, but this was my first time seeing him live and I was very impressed. The set (background of cacti and light-induced sunsets) was appropriate, and they covered a lot of material.

Low points: Bad banter all around. Too much of it, nothing was funny. But, as previously mentioned, no one entered a downward spiral ending in prematurely leaving the stage, so it was not a deal-breaker. Also, the two screaming girls sitting directly behind me.

Personal hero: Whoever managed to smoke a joint undetected in Royce, where everyone was seated the entire show and there were a lot of ushers and security guards moving around. Covert!

By the numbers:
References to Jessica Joffe: 1 to an ex-girlfriend with an English accent, 1 song (“Goodnight Rose”) dedicated to unemployed Stanford grads.

References to Adam Levine of Maroon 5 wearing a vest with no shirt underneath: 1

My friends said: one thought it was great, two really liked it but were very tired by the end (3 hours sitting in an auditorium on a Wednesday night will do that to you), and one liked it ‘til he made a crack at Josh Ritter.

FURTHER READING
» Ryan Adams Does Not Suck At Wilshire Theatre