BENJI HUGHES Who is Hughes, you ask? No, he is not Rick Rubin and Edgar Winter's lovechild, despite photographic evidence to the contrary (see above). Friday at El Cid, where the onetime Silverlake resident played one of two sold out shows, the bearded one reminded Eastside residents what a massive talent he truly is--with songwriting skills that artists like Beck would kill for (Jackson Browne is a fan, and was seen at Friday's gig chatting up Hughes pre-show, along with Entourage star Adrian Grenier)." - Los Angeles Times |
|
DODOS "Let me tell you about a little band with a colossal sound. I'd been waiting with great anticipation for their tour bus to hit Los Angeles, and though their show felt too short, I am elated and gratified to have seen The Dodos perform. The Dodos are country guitarist Meric Long and metal drummer Logan Kroeber. Long layers his energetic and precise guitar picking with loops to create a sound you'd think was coming from three different guitars simultaneously. Then there's Kroeber on the Drums. He is remarkable, trying to keep up with his fast flowing beats and stomps is simply mind-blowing. Even at this show it felt like any moment the place would collapse from the flooding energy and overwhelming sound. I’m amazed that except for a few songs where a third man contributed with a xylophone, such richness came from merely two musicians (White Stripes have nothing on these guys). It’s been a while since I’ve felt such a sensational rush over a band, I highly insist you check them out at an intimate venues while you can." - When You Awake |
|
VAMPIRE WEEKEND Vampire Weekend rocked out last week and it seems the hype is worth the, ahem, hype this time. We managed to catch their show at the Silverlake Lounge and it was packed. Like really really packed. Vampire Weekend has been making its way around the blogosphere and are being hailed by some as the next Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. These guys, who all live in Brooklyn, have a certain pop hipness to their afro-indie beats. Their high energy 45-minute show kept the crowd going the whole time, despite their limited independent album release of just 3 songs. These recent Columbia grads are touring around the U.S. with their Paul Simon/Police like music and having fun at it. Going up to chat with the band afterwards, Chris the drummer asked earnestly, "Was the sound ok? I couldn't tell from here, was the sound ok?" The sound, it turns out, was just right and the hype fell out into the street amongst the hoardes of hipsters. |
|
A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS
12/4/07 Silverlake Lounge Time ceased to exist during A Place To Bury Strangers’ intimate set at the Silverlake Lounge. The crowd was as solidly packed in as could be. Adrenaline was heavy in the air. The lighting was kinetic. Sound became a melodic, distorted feast for the ears. The New York band’s music seemed to move over and through you in a blasted wave, much like dark, dark honey. APTBS incorporates beautiful, air-washed melodies backed by frantic, heavy distortion. Live, the band—composed of Oliver Ackermann (guitars, vocals), JSpace (drums) and Jono MOFO (bass)—is nothing short of electrifying. Each song is like a fiery buzz, hitting you full on, then heating you up from the inside out. Standouts include “I Know I’ll See You,” replete with haunting lyrics and steamy beats, and “To Fix the Gash In Your Head.” The former is easily the band’s most accessible song and a definitive testament to their darkwave genius. However, it was during the extremely frenetic last song, “Ocean,” that time ceased to exist. Singer/guitarist Oliver leapt forward like some sort of electric vigilante of the night. Manic precision screamed from bassist Jono, and controlled fury flew off of drummer JSpace. All of which combined with softer vocal stylings and orchestrated chaos to make for a completely full, addictive sound. Imagine if Jesus and Mary Chain soaked in the hardest of liquors and added a lit match; this would be the recipe for APTBS, a band that is sure to light up many stages. |
|
COLD WAR KIDS "Taking their name from bassist Matt Maust's website (he is a graphic designer with an impressive portfolio), the Cold War Kids last year produced their "Mulberry Street" EP (named for the restaurant beneath Russell's Fullerton apartment, where the patrons didn't take kindly to their practicing) and cemented their status as an L.A. "it" band with a September 2005 residency at the Silverlake Lounge.” - LA Times |
|
THE BIRD AND THE BEE, PITY PARTY "It was an early night of performances from two of L.A.’s up and coming artists. The Bird and The Bee is Inara George backed by instrumentalist Greg Kurstin and friends. The music is a bit on the adult contemporary side, but the arrangements and retro-bossa nova feel is sublime. Their best track is “I’m a Broken Heart”. The song wanders back and forth between Pet Sounds atmospherics and The Carpenters. Inara has the most delicate and soothing voice. Openers The Pity Party are establishing themselves as a unique and original band sounding unlike anything this city has to offer. Their sound is difficult to pin down for those of you who yearn for references. I’d be close in bringing up Blonde Redhead crossed with Devo, only there’s a darker quality to the music. The sound and overall mix in the club was outstanding. Their vocals met perfectly over dense keyboards and a myriad of experimental guitar sounds. For a two-piece band The Pity Party achieves a bigger sound than most 4-piece acts could ever hope for. I highly recommend buying their self-titled EP, I’ve been spinning it for days." |
|
THE LITTLE ONES "It's hard to believe that tonight was their third performance ever. You would've thought they'd been playing together for years or just come off of a tour because the set was so tight and natural. Bands like The Little Ones, that actually appear to be having fun on stage, always become more likable and mesmerizing as the set moves forward...." Read the entire article here. |
|
SNOWDEN Read the entire article here. |
HYPNORITUALS AND MESMEMUSICAL MIRACLES HANGING IN THE SKY: The Devendra Detail "Devendra Banhart, doyen of the current confluence that may loosely be called freak folk, curated five nights of mystic music and roughly related forms; the first presented varied examples of how a younger generation has re-approached sources such as Appalachian and English folk, Delta blues, avant-jazz, and the odd strain of, say, North African tribal music." Read the entire article here. Photo by Deborah Samantha |
|
BAND OF HORSES "The tat-covered Band of Horses followed Josh Ritter....There's a Shin-esque quality to their music, and you can certainly hear Wayne Coyne in the lead singer's voice. That's high praise....there's certainly an epic and uplifting sound to their music, seen in such songs as "The First Song" and the remarkable "The Great Salt Lake", as well as a whimsical and comical tone in "Monsters" and the triumphant "Weed Party". Soon to be embraced by the "indie" community, if given the proper marketing, I can certainly see the Horses being the next "cross-over band" into the mainstream, following in the footsteps of Franz Ferdinand and The Flaming Lips." Read the entire article here. |
|
IRVING "Irving take the stage and blast into some hits from their latest album Death in the Garden, Blood on the Flowers. This band never sounded so good. 'Situation' and 'I Want To Love You In My Room' sounding amazing with their perfect mix of vocal harmonies coming from the entire band, jangly guitars, and Alex Church's thumping bass, Irving blew the crowd away and even managed to get an encore in..." Read the entire article here. |
|
BECK "I heard about a secret after-show performance at the Silverlake Lounge.... and the band jammed until two in the morning. Joined on stage once again by Sia and his soulful supporting act, Jamie Lidell, the band launched into "Black Tambourine" and then "Where It's At," which were segued into Prince, Queen and Denise Williams covers. This was truly a homecoming for Beck..." Read the entire article here. View more photos of the show by Paul Redmond here. |
|
LAVENDER DIAMOND "L.D. has such a positive view on things with the self-pats on the back and "peace returning to earth". Becky had an exuberant presence on stage, I was left feeling a bit giddy myself.." See entire article and photos here. |
|
KATHLEEN EDWARDS Kathleen Edwards is a little rougher around the edges than many of her alt-country peers. The special press package for her debut album included a miniature bottle of Maker’s Mark, and her songs are filled with beautifully rendered glimpses into true-to-life small town stories, fuckups and burnouts intact. And yet Edwards is still relatively pop-friendly, especially on Lilith Fair-y type tracks like “Lone Wolf.” Her labelmates have included Sarah Harmer and Martha Wainwright. So on a trip through Los Angeles, a typical venue would be The Knitting Factory or Largo—and, indeed, she did play the latter. But she also played Silverlake Lounge, a safely seedy venue that often caters to louder rock shows and/or local upstarts. The reason? She’d seen a show there during a previous tour and decided it was her kind of place." |
|
MORIS TEPPER/PJ HARVEY “It was hard to take your eyes off singer-guitarist Moris Tepper as he hulked around the small stage and conjured a mighty noise with his two backing musicians at the El Cid club in Silver Lake on Saturday. But the audience's attention was also fixed on Tepper's bass player — Polly Jean Harvey, a.k.a. PJ Harvey. It's an unusual role for one of rock's most acclaimed and popular cult figures, standing modestly in the background and churning out the heavy, driving foundation for the jarring music of the L.A.-based Tepper. But you can see why the Englishwoman would be drawn to this artist, whose background includes stints with such Harvey heroes as Captain Beefheart and Tom Waits, and whose spasmodic, cathartic, boundary-pushing music shares qualities with her own rock psychodrama. "It's fun, but I wouldn't go out like this with just anybody," Harvey said after the show. "I'm a great admirer of his music and I wanted to support it…. It's very dark." Tepper, who is also scheduled to play this Sunday at the Echo as part of the ArthurBall festival, has his own, smaller cult after his prestigious associations and three independent albums. His more conventional moments Saturday sometimes suggested Frank Black (another frequent beneficiary of Tepper's playing), and sometimes the Stooges. The set included "Ricochet Man," a rare recent writing collaboration with the retired and reclusive Beefheart. Harvey, her strapless black dress making her a glamorous contrast to the severe-looking Tepper, flat-picked simple, solid, aggressive patterns as she teamed with drummer Scott Mathers to anchor the leader's impulsive, unpredictable sonic spasms. Dark it was, but a good kind of dark.” LA Times
|
|
MIKE ANDREWS Michael Andrews is not a rock star. He has 20 albums to his credit as a pop songsmith, film and TV composer, guitar and piano player, and record producer, and he and Gary Jules even charted a No. 1 U.K. hit with their cover of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World” from the Donnie Darko soundtrack. Andrews also scored Miranda July’s acclaimed Me and You and Everyone We Know and has just started working on Jake Kasdan’s upcoming feature, The TV Set. And he certainly counts a rock star or two among his friends. But fame just doesn’t seem to be on his agenda — if he even has an agenda at all. And apparently he doesn’t, despite his busy schedule... Read the entire article here. |
|
Harry Potter Hearts Giant Drag "Twenty-four-year-old singer Annie Hardy could be the cute little unassuming waif next door ... that is, if that cute little unassuming waif next door chain-smoked, dished out sarcastic comments at all turns and cursed like a crass sailor..."dRead article here. |
|
MAJORIE FAIR, THE SHORE, INNAWAY "When the call went out for the Marjorie Fair show at the Fold - Silverlake lounge, I jumped at the opportunity. (I say this because I've yet to be disappointed with an Ice Cream Man recommendation.) Their music induces reflection and inspiration and I could think of no better place to see them on this crisp December eve.." See entire article and more photos here. |
|
ELBOW |
|
KEREN ANN, A GIRL CALLED EDDY |
|
BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB "A few years back, a young band from San Francisco arrived in LA and started playing the tiny Silverlake Lounge..." Read the article here. |
|
GIANT DRAG Los Angeles duo Giant Drag are only halfway through shooting the video for their forthcoming single, the droning, lyrically baffling "Kevin Is Gay," and frontwoman Annie Hardy has already been drenched in faux rainwater, flattened by a clumsy fatso in fetish gear, and -- in effigy at least -- thrown off a cliff. "If this video doesn't come out well," she says, "I'm going to fucking kill everybody here." Other than that, things are going remarkably well for the 24-year-old singer/guitarist and her one-man rhythm section, 27-year-old Micah Calabrese. The pair are preparing for the release of their fuzzy rock album Hearts and Unicorns, just two years after their first gig at L.A. hipster hotspot Silverlake Lounge. While gentler tracks like "Blunt Picket Fence" may evoke a younger Juliana Hatfield, the record is bursting with enough growling riffs and lyrical invective to have critics in Britain -- where the band's 2004 EP, Lemona, was an underground favorite -- hailing the advent of a new grunge movement, with Giant Drag at its core. Read the entire article here. |
|
DITTY BOPS, INARA GEORGE, KATE EARL View a Ditty Bops view here.
|
|
NEKO CASE / THE SADIES / DEXTER ROMWEBER |
|
MARTHA WAINWRIGHT |
|
THE VACATION
Los Feliz Street Fair - presented by The Fold June 6, 2004
Commonly referred to as L.A.'s best kept secret, the band The Vacation took to a short set during the 13th Annual Los Feliz Street fair with furious success, showing off the wares their selling, while schooling other local up-and-comers a thing or two about showmanship. Led by singer Ben Tegel, The Vacation presented a spirited and fiery set, replete with sexual innuendo and backed by guitarist and brother Steven's AC/DC-like riffs and moves blowing off the stage. We're not talking about the trite punk set full of screaming, body slamming kids with the vocalist caterwauling into the mike; we're talking a fun, professionally performed set with big-time show prowess packed in a little powerful punch, intoxicating to the audience, forcing you to want to see more! Bassist Eric Suoninen held strong being the straight-man in the group, keeping the grooves grounded while the other two executed an exhibition of music. The Vacation is the little band that cannot be ignored and shouldn't. –Aaron Settipane
THE FIERY FURNACES
at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge, February 2, 2004
Packed despite the season's heaviest rain, the Fiery Furnaces' local debut had something of the get-on-the-train-now feel of the White Stripes' first shows here. Singer Eleanor Friedberger is already gaining a rep for "withering intensity" -- that's wrong, though she did stare down a fan who attempted to watch the show seated. She's simply an engaged performer, the kind that years of diffident indie-rockers have trained us not to expect. If anything, her multi-instrumentalist brother Matthew cut the stranger figure: expressionless, with a standard-issue Williamsburg fringe cut, but glancing back at bassist Toshi Yano and Dan D'Oca to indicate actual concern with how the music was coming off.
The Friedbergers have real presence; they've also got real songs. They wisely front-loaded the set with the sharpest, most blues-based numbers from their Gallowsbird's Bark. "Crystal Clear" and "I'm Gonna Run" are a hair precious on record, with their glancing references to off-track betting and the Millennium Dome, but here, in jittery two-guitar arrangements, they read as observant slices of boho exasperation. (Are these songs really "the blues"? No. Are Dylan's?) The pace slackened when Matthew switched to electric piano midset; the unreleased "Chris Michaels," on which the siblings traded verses, seemed aimless on first hearing.
But even this valley had its peaks, notably another new song concerning an abduction fantasy, which morphed into a streamlined cover of the oft-recorded "I Wish I Was Single Again," a public-domain chestnut of indeterminate authorship ("He beat me and mauled me/And threatened to scald me"). The encore was among the more uncomfortable in memory: There was no notable ovation, but no one moved an inch. So the pair returned, bandless, for three numbers in the guitar/vocal format of their first New York shows. After the somber and decidedly unprecious "Rub-Alcohol Blues," they stopped -- then the crowd wanted more. - Franklin Bruno, LA WEEKLY
THE LOVEMAKERS
at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge
January 8, 2004
"When it comes to live performances, the Lovemakers give good show. Comprised of bassist and violinist Lisa Light, guitarist and vocalist Scott Blonde, and keyboardist Jason Proctor, the three work in perfect harmony to create some of the sweetest synth souns since Human League and New Order. The hypnotic live performance involved, but was not limited to: convulsive dancing, partial nudity, and occasional PDA. From the minute their live set began, the power-pop trio's sexual energy oozed off the stage like lava. Light, clad in a striped tube-dress mini with her hair neatly coiffed, demonstrated perfection of the "pouty face" and commanded attention with every stomp of her stilettos. Blonde, in an off-white suit and matching vest, danced his ass off and flailed his arms rhythmically when he wasn't busy chiming in with vocals. Then, like the purveyor of all of synthland, stood Jason Proctor, bobbin his head left-to-right with every pulse of the music. Viva the Lovemakers!" - ENTERTAINMENT TODAY
KRISTIN HERSH in 50 FOOT WAVE
at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge
January 27, 2004
"I am very, very shy. I am nice, but I'm shy, and when I'm not doing my job, I hate it. Singer-songwriter Kristin Hersh startles me with this admission, partly because it comes well into an interview so congenial and relaxed, it feels more like having coffee and catching up with a long-lost pal. But I am surprised more because shy is not the word that sprang to mind the previous Tuesday night, when the erstwhile leader of pioneering college-rock band Throwing Muses blissfully hollered her way through a thunderous set by her new trio, 50 Foot Wave, at the Fold at the Silverlake Lounge. - LA CITY BEAT
Read the article: http://www.lacitybeat.com/article.php?id=625&IssueNum=34
RICHARD BUCKNER
at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge
January 21, 2004
After a few minutes of tweaking his levels, Buckner began to whisper a song so softly that many in the audience took a minute to realize the show had started. After that minute, however, the low guttural refrain had crept through the crowd and was now standing in between us all, making us feel physically closer to Buckner than anyone actually was. With this simple magic, Buckner pinned the audience to the floor for the next 90 minutes. There is something singular about Buckner's performanc. Stripped of all theatrics and affectation, he sings his songs without whimsy, condemnation, regret or rancor. It is in this way, perhaps, that he can stir such emotions in his audience. By the end of the set, we'd had conversations with God, our mothers, our lovers and the road. Stories and sentiments that could not be overlooked, propelled into the audience by a man with a smoky voice and an acoustic guitar. - MUSICSPORK
Here's some reviews of 'The Fold Compilation':
"THE FOLD COMPILATION" (Credit Records)
"The boon of this compilation of alternative-rockers who have performed at the well-booked Fold at the Silverlake Lounge in Los Angeles is not in its songs by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Patrick Park and Polyphonic Spree. It's in allowing the rest of the country to discover quality unsigned SoCal acts like Midnight Movies, Trespassers William, Silversun Pickups, Gwendolyn, and Eleni Mandell." NEILÊSTRAUSS - NY TIMES - December 5, 2003
LA Weekly
"From the classic guitar-rock of Alaska! to the au courant synth-pop of '80s revivalists Metric, from the uplifting psychedelic chorales of the Polyphonic Spree to the somber balladry of Acetone, from the gentle folk of Patrick Park to the bombastic edge of And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, The Fold Compilation is a pretty wild ride. Though it's essentially a rock collection, its eclectic wanderlust supersedes any genre fixation, transporting the listener from the Cambodian surf-lounge of Dengue Fever through the lush trip-hop of Maimou and into the self-deprecating old-school country of Mike Stinson. It's truly an all-embracing aesthetic. Where else can you hear the bluesy swells of Devics, crying out for love on You in the Glass, alongside the upturned musical apple cart that is Gwendolyn singing Insect Perspective, her thoughtful ode to a bug?
The story of this unusual release began with fledgling record-label owner Chris Jerde asking Scott Sterling, promoter of rock theme nights at the Silverlake Lounge, the Derby and Tangier known collectively as the Fold, What do you think about doing a record where you are the creative director, but not do a Ôlive from the club' thing, just get all the bands together that you love and create a document of the scene? Sterling had been trying to do just that on his own but didn't seem to have the wherewithal to see it through. So the two formed a naturally symbiotic partnership to release songs Sterling thought were hits . . . classics.
The result is an astonishingly good double album Ñ just released on Jerde's Credit Records Ñ that assembles a track each from 29 mostly local bands that have played Sterling's stages over the last seven years. Perhaps most gratifying in an industry often dominated by male perspectives, female vocalists and performers are well represented on The Fold Compilation, which kicks off with the pounding drums of Midnight Movies' Nico-esque chanteuse, Gena Olivier. Sterling says the gender equilibrium was not premeditated but simply reflects a musical community with lots of strong rock women.
It's a fascinating aural snapshot of the Silver Lake music scene and really captures the untainted spirit of experimentation Sterling has encouraged there, from regularly engaging the totally anomalous Dengue Fever since they tickled the fancy of the gay retirees who make up the happy-hour crowd at the Silverlake Lounge, to booking the 25-member Polyphonic Spree before they'd garnered any notoriety, just for a hoot. Though the album features obvious local favorites like the 88 and Eleni Mandell and several acts that are already gaining international acclaim, such as Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and the Warlocks, it showcases underground gems such as Bedroom Walls along with promising newcomers like Giant Drag. It's a collection that, like Sterling himself, takes risks and embraces the unknown Ñ sometimes even by accident.
Devendra [Banhart's first booking] was funny, Sterling explains, because he sent me this tape of himself with this guy on one side it said "Vetiver" and on the other it said "Devendra" and I listened to it and I liked what I heard on the side that said "Devendra" so I called him and I set up a show. I came down [for the performance], and when he started playing I realized that they had labeled the tape wrong . . . I'd booked the wrong one! But I ended up really liking Devendra . . . he reminded me of a weird combination of Vincent Gallo and Ed Grimley.
Record of the Week - R&R
"Fuck Mapquest and The Thomas Guide - this two-disc set is all you really need to find your way around Los Angeles. Since 1997, a small Eastside club called The Fold has been home to some of the best damn bands not only in L.A., but in the country. Now expanded to two venues - it's original home, Silverlake Lounge, and the larger Derby - The Fold continues to bring the eclectic noise, especially with this brilliant set. Check out B.R.M.C.'s rare "Loaded Gun" or contributions from out-of-towners like ...Trail of Dead and The Polyphonic Spree. Previous Record of the Week honorees like Metric and The 88 are included here, and up 'n' comers like Rex Aquarium, Midnight Movies, and The Warlocks are definitely worth a listen. Any naysayer who thinks good music is dead just needs to spend some time with these two discs. There's a reason the lighted sign above the Fold in Silverlake Lounge's tiny stage says "Salvation"; You find it here." - Frank Correia - Radio&Records
Fold Never Folds
Six years of the best in live local underground music and the Fold is still going strong, a fact represented by the just-released Fold Compilation on Credit Records. The club collective started up at the Silverlake Lounge, migrated to include nights at the Derby, and now offers Tuesday nights at Tangier as well. Bands like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Black Heart Procession and the Polyphonic Spree called the Fold home before they broke, and appear on the double CD alongside local upstarts such as Midnight Movies. If you've missed the November 21 CD release party featuring comp participants Eleni Mandell, Patrick Park, Mike Stinson and many others, never fear: the next stellar bill is just around the corner. - Music Connection
DEERHOOF, VIVA K., EVENING, Our Time screening
at The Fold in the Derby
May 23, 2003
Rock is the new dance is the new swing, apparently. It's been 15 months since the Derby relegated the dwindling lindy-hop crowd to the back bar every night but Monday; tonight, Scott Sterling's Fold annexed even that space. The occasion: a screening of Our Time, a well-meaning documentary by Piper Ferguson and Ravi Dhar (also guitarist of the middle-billed Viva K.) that oversells the current Brooklyn-centric garage and electroclash scenes via generous live footage and numbingly repetitive interviews. (Can you say Williamsburg? Can you say it again?) The filmmakers want to make a case for the political urgency of this crop of bands, but inclusions as bland as the Realistics or as witless as W.I.T. don't help. As for the 3-D portion of the lineup: Evening, featured briefly in the film, are a Bay Area five-piece with a tightly coiled rhythm section, a Fender RhodesÐpounding front man and a thorough familiarity with Interpol's effects-box settings. Locals Viva K. were more substantial, despite the so-old-it's-new-again combination of programmed rhythms and Dhar's muscular guitar. (Remember Blackbird?) Except for Love Everybody, their songs were driven less by hooks than by Scott Zweizen's lively bass parts and the compelling presence of singer Christine Evans, a rail-thin, full-throated cross between Karens Carpenter and O. In this fashion-forward company, Deerhoof's near groovelessness was downright invigorating. Bent pop material like Dummy Discards a Heart from their recent Apple O' was transformed into something much further out, thanks to the CreamÐmeetsÐRed Krayola interaction among guitarists John Dietrich and Chris Cohen and drummer Greg Saunier, an inspired, almost overpowering player. These three did most of the heavy lifting, but Japanese-born bassist Satomi Matsuzaki defused their muso machismo in disconcerting ways, as when a lengthy passage of Nels ClineÐworthy instrumental improv was cut off cold by Matsuzaki's stratospheric second-language chirp: Bunny bunny bunny bunny bunny. Franklin Bruno - LA WEEKLY
NEKO CASE
at The Fold in the Derby
May 20, 2003
It wasn't the recent will-she-or-won't-she-pose-for-Playboy rumors that made people press like carnival rubes against the stage, gawking at the attractive enough Neko Case. Besides, beauty's a curse, as she warned on Pretty Girls ( around curves so comely and sinister, they blame it on you, pretty girl). I love her voice, folks kept saying mantralike, almost apologetically, as if to explain why they'd been dragged out of bed or away from other things. You could bask in a voice that big and radiant, and it was especially suited to the room, arcing unbroken along the curving wooden spine of the Derby's inside-the-whale ceiling. Between songs, Case came off as pleasantly self-deprecating, apologizing for sounding like one of those husbandless trolls in their 30s, after a series of sharp asides about friends having babies. She lauded upright bassist Tom V. Ray's ZZ-length beard, and wrestled throughout the set with her stubborn tenor guitar's tuning. These guitars are mad at me, she explained. They've been in the closet a while, and they're having their way. The voice justified all minor distractions, though, coiling up languidly in the arms of the Sylvia & Wood standard Look for Me (I'll Be Around) and trailing off celestially desolate among Jon Rauhouse's pedal-steel shivers on Hank Williams' Alone and Forsaken. While Case imbued these and other writers' tunes Ñ including a contrastingly ebullient version of Bob Dylan's Bucket of Rain Ñ with a modern kind of Patsy Cline/Dusty Springfield charisma, the former punk rocker was most affecting on fervently delivered, multilayered original ballads like Blacklisted and Deep Red Bells. Even with a voice that can fill canyons, it was the somber way she delivered those chilling, more personal words that later carved trails in the memory. (Falling James) - LA WEEKLY
at the Fold in the Derby
March 28, 2003
Bedroom Walls describe their music as Romanticore Ñ approximating (among other things) "the last paragraph of The Great Gatsby . . . knowing your ex-girlfriend is happier now . . . sighing too loudly and too often." What sets it apart from typical diary-rock is that this is also music about joy. Joy is a difficult thing to write toward. Joy isn't mere happiness, nor is it ecstasy. Joy may be pleasure you don't earn, simply allow yourself to experience; it's about surrender. Coming back again to the band's mission statement Ñ "knowing your ex-girlfriend is happier now" Ñ this joy is sad and kind of beautiful, the ability to shrug it off. What's familiar is the willingness to be absurd, refusing to let your intelligence become a burden. Because joy is absurd, joy's all about enjoying things more than you should, be they cigarettes, wind or bedroom walls. Even music. Perhaps especially music. Music has to be liked a bit too much. Bedroom Walls make that easy, playing songs with awkward perfection; music to dance to like an idiot, in your room alone, or in the opulently lit Derby. How to convey the music? It's shamelessly melodic, kind of ambient, kind of spaced-out, surprisingly clever. It's like your little sister on drugs, insouciant and a bit off-the-wall. It's all these things, but it's precisely them; this is a personality carefully crafted and practiced. However, pop skill doesn't preclude the need to rock out. It's just that when Bedroom Walls do, they caution the crowd they're about to do so. As exquisite and polite as any dandy. (Russel Swensen) - LA Weekly
Keith Slettedahl of The 88
Green and Yellow TV, The 88, and Gliss
April 3, 2003
at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge
Salvation. That's the word appearing over the stage at the Silver Lake Lounge. And that's what you'll find at the Fold: Salvation from all the I-wanna-sound-like-everyone-else music out there. Especially if you were there April 3rd to see The Green and Yellow TV, The 88, and Gliss. These three bands call Silver Lake home, and portend a bright future for the music scene here. Bright, powerful, indie-pop, that is. Silver Lake has a long history as an incubator of innovative musical acts, and these bands prove that tradition is not letting up. Those who arrived early were treated to an excellent set by Gliss
- Stephen Messer
4.04.03
METRIC have finished their record and it's real good and coming out in June on Enjoy Records.
GWENDOLYN has a new record called 'Dew' and it's beautiful and strange and there's a record release at the Derby on the 27th April.
03.29.03
Brian from the band IRVING separated his shoulder.
During their March residency at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge, The HIGH SPEED SCENE signed a big old contract with the Neptunes' Star Trak label and are gonna make a big old record. Stay tough, boys.
MIDNIGHT MOVIES are gonna be interviewed and perform live in studio on KCRW's Newground show with Chris Douridas. It is supposed to air on Saturday, April 12th or the 19th at 12p on 89.9 FM.
METRIC
at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge, February 5, 2003
"Welcome to the Metric anti-vanity show," announced the group's lead singer Emily Haines. "We're Metric, and the smoke machine is off. I brought something to read if anyone wants to, a little bit from Einstein." The group launched into a set filled with wordy, new wave-style rock songs. Haines' voice had a post-coital allure, though her lyrics had more to do with the complications that enter relationships after the sex has stopped. The songs were propulsive, effective and unadorned. James Shaw's guitar work was free of tricks. The rhythm section's parts were inherited, not invented. ... Haines' voice is a fabulous instrument -- one moment smoky and redolent like Portishead's Beth Gibbons, the next girly and vacant.... "Dead disco! Dead funk! Dead rock & roll!" she screamed as the band's final rave-up climaxed. " - Alec Hanley Bemis, LA WEEKLY
DEVENDRA BANHART
at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge, January 17, 2003
As the bearded, black-haired Banhart removed his brown cloche hat and sat Indian-style on an Oriental rug in the middle of the stage, one feared we were in for more posturing. But obviously he is committed to the wigged-out path: He would retain the cross-legged pose for the rest of his performance; a front row of about 20 audience members did the same. This was but the first sign of his power as a performer; his eccentricities had already charmed us. At 11:30, Banhart took out his guitar, asked for a glass of red wine, closed his eyes and began picking out small acoustic figures. When he opened his mouth, he unleashed a beautiful warble that brought to mind 1) black female blues singers from scratchy old 78s; 2) Ravi Shankar; 3) your best-ever psychedelic experience; 4) the blind-man charms of Jose Feliciano, Andre Bocelli and Ray Charles; and 5) a wizened Chinese scholar yawning as he schooled you in the Tao of folk rock. Banhart's lyrics were so freeform as to be almost indescribable, but I'll never forget his couplets about the guy who put ovaries in his mouth so his dogs wouldn't die, or the moment he sang, "My friends are useless hens/they don't lay anymore." A half-hour later, after nine brilliantly inchoate songs and fragments, Banhart was gone.
- Alec Hanley Bemis, LA WEEKLY
THE MUSIC (U.K.)
shot a video at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge on November 16, 2002
here it is
NEKO CASE
at the Fold in the Derby, November 13, 2002
On Blacklisted, Neko Case's breakthrough third solo album, you are struck first by the voice. Think Patsy Cline meets Nick Cave -- beautiful and sad, drenched in reverb, haunted but not unhappy. Case sounds like a wild horse; she is untamed but vital. One might come to a few conclusions about the singer, that she is a bohemian girl, a blowsy drunk, a fun companion for a road trip. After an opening set by old-timey indie rockers Jim Jenny and the Pinetops (think O Brother, Where Art Thou? in thrift-store T-shirts), Case emerged onto the Derby's small stage wearing a formfitting black outfit and a plush cheetah-print hat over a mane of rich red hair thick enough for a shampoo commercial. She removed the hat, and on came Her Boyfriends, a backup band consisting of multi-instrumentalist Jon Rauhouse on banjo, guitar and pedal steel and Tom V. Ray on standup bass. The former had the look of a record geek, the latter of a hillbilly lawn dwarf -- complete with fuzzy beard and corduroy jacket in need of elbow patches. Case's songs focused on emotion and atmosphere. Between the resonance of her voice and the ethereal hum and twang of the minimal backing band, you felt pulled in multiple directions. One minute you were floating, the next you were smashed upon the rocks. The songs never resolve, and in many respects they're a mess: one part Americana, one part overwrought torch song, and -- in a cover of Aretha Franklin's "Runnin' Out of Fools" -- classic R&B. Case definitely lacks the discipline and grace that proper training brings. Still, though you may not remember her particular melodies, there's an abiding beauty you can't forget. It's high drama all around, punctuated by vivid non sequiturs. "It looks a lot like engine oil and tastes like being poor and small and Popsicles in summer," she sang in "Deep Red Bells." With Case it's that time of the month all month long: Everything might go horribly wrong, but the depth of feeling makes it so all right that you're willing to ride that roller-coaster valentine for the rest of your life. "Your heart is so trite and so innocent while your flimsy blue gown's tied around you, around curves so comely and sinister," she sings in "Pretty Girls." Then she reveals what she's all worked up about: "They blame it on you pretty girls."
Alec Hanley Bemis - LA WEEKLY
THE POLYPHONIC SPREE
at the Fold in the Derby, October 4, 2002
When Tripping Daisy guitarist Wes Berggren overdosed in 1999, it seemed another talented team would never reach their full potential. But, far from rolling over into obscurity, the Daisy boys returned with Polyphonic Spree, a superambitious, 25-piece coed ensemble who joyously deliver an unholy "Did I dream that?" crossbreed of '60s Brit-pop and boisterous Southern evangelism. Since being the talk of this year's SXSW conference, this Dallas band/cult have been riding the critical wave into packed clubs, and their first California appearance at a sold-out Derby was suitably humming with anticipation. Having processed through the crowd, the white-robed Spree took their places on a busy stage while front man Tim DeLaughter's unmiked opening speech reduced the crowd to a whisper. While Polyphonic's songwriting, though accomplished, is no revolution -- rollicking Sgt. Pepper's romps driven by throbbing bass, horn fanfares and perky keys -- it's the delivery that's so remarkable. Though in essence a fleshed-out rock band, the Spree's 10-strong chorus croons a mostly lyricless angelic backdrop crisscrossed by flute, harp and theremin, weaving breezy, psychedelic threads into crushing crescendos -- a '70s movie soundtrack made flesh. Watching Polyphonic Spree is like witnessing Tommy unfold in real time, at club level, and credit is due to DeLaughter and co. for not restricting their vision to conventional pop parameters and doing whatever it takes to create the sounds in their heads despite the obvious logistical nightmares. Polyphonic Spree are inspiring to the point of being subversive, more genuinely dangerous than any detuned angst merchants could ever be. Their pogoing, hand-wringing, arms-aloft ecstasy makes them the sect everyone wants to join -- and let's hope this is drug-induced, 'cause the alternative is truly terrifying. After Polyphonic Spree, how can we ever return to just four guys with guitars again?
Paul Rogers - LA WEEKLY
09.06.02
a message from meltazose: >start transmission hello. i have been programmed to fill you in. as you know, autolux has not been playing shows in the last couple of months. there are a couple of reasons for this. reason number one: autolux has just signed to a new label that The Coen Brothers and T-Bone Burnett started. it is called DMZ and is distributed by Columbia records. autolux has been writing and shall be going into a studio in late October to start recording a full length record. reason number two: on may 31st, 2002 autolux opened for elvis costello at the kodak theater in los angeles. directly following the show, carla fell and broke her elbow. it was severe enough to warrant having surgery a few days later. she now has 8 titanium screws in her elbow. permanently. the doctor who operated (Dr. John Itamura) is a futuristic man of great skill. he repaired her elbow. carla had to refrain from playing drums for 2 months (hence, no autolux shows) but is now past the mental and psychological anguish, fully recovered and playing every day. i have enclosed a link to the x-ray of her repaired elbow. http://www.autolux.net/elbowmadness.html if you have any questions you can contact Robert Densworth at rdensworth@earthlink.net thank you. Meltazose Robotic Luminoid, Achaian Series 2L >end transmission
JONATHAN RICHMAN
at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge, August 22, 2002
Nailed above the stage of the Silverlake Lounge is a sign that says "SALVATION," made up of many tiny white lights. It floats above performers' heads like a thought bubble, a halo, an annotation. Jonathan Richman's three-night, sold-out stand at the 100-something-capacity club was a match made in a special kind of heaven where seedy evenings come to innocent ends. The venue does double duty most weeks. On Fridays and Saturdays it's a gay bar that targets the Latino demographic and plays host to mariachi bands and drag queens. A succession of indie up-and-comers and the occasional alt-rock star fill the place (or don't) during the week. But Richman's set allowed you to imagine a club that could unify the two scenes, creating an ideal Tijuana of the mind -- a TJ where the donkeys aren't spray-painted like zebras so frat boys can take their pictures next to them, and where the whores would be loved, truly loved, by fragile Johns named Jonathan. Preceding "El Joven Se Estremece" ("The Youth Trembles"), a song about a young man's fears upon his first visit to a bordello, an audience member asked Richman if he knew the Spanish term for prostitute. "Puta," he replied. "But I'm not going to need that word." The 18-song, hourlong set was filled with the eccentric staples that have earned Richman his intense cult following: the songs sung in Spanish and Hebrew as a kind of sideways tribute to French chanson singers such as Charles Aznavour and Edith Piaf; the ballads about affections lived through the body of an adult, but viewed with the glee of a kindergartner; the ragtag collection of idols (Pablo Picasso, Velvet Underground, Harpo Marx) to whom he dedicates his songs; amplification levels set so low that he'll be able to rock & roll tinnitus-free into his latter years. "Just because we're getting older doesn't mean we have to close up shop," he sang in the evening's first song. Richman's between-song banter highlighted his precious, Luddite world-view. Early in his set, he relayed a message from one of the 50 people lined up outside the club, hoping to get in. "Nate, your friend Dan tried to make it, but he couldn't come," Richman told the audience member. "He's gonna send you a note tomorrow. Some kind of mail." (E-mail, Jonathan. It's called e-mail.) The Silverlake Lounge was the perfect home for Richman's music. You could get close enough to see his sad, Margaret KeaneÐ meetsÐvan Gogh eyes, and the sordid yet virtuous vibe made crowd-pleasers like "I Was Dancing at the Lesbian Bar" extra vivid. "In the first bar, things were stop and stare," sang Jonathan, his adenoidal croon overpowering drummer Tommy Larkins' disco beat, "but in this bar, things were laissez faire." Right then Richman unslung his acoustic, unleashing a hip-grinding dance solo.
by Alec Hanley Bemis [LA Weekly]
DNTEL, ATHALIA, BEDROOM WALLS
at the Derby, July 26, 2002
Quite an eclectic night of music at the Derby. Arriving 10-ish, we caught the tail end of Bedroom Walls' set, which closed with a darn good rendition of "The Killing Moon" by the Bunnymen -- you just never get sick of hearing that song. The vocals were right on the money, bendy lilts and all, and the audience was impressed, though slightly hyperactive. Following Bedroom Walls' set was Athalia. Now there were some good moments here: juicy, dissonant then melodic guitar sounds suggestive of Slint, interesting beats and solid song structures. It was definitely above average, but there wasn't quite enough to sink one's teeth into. Dntel: Boy, Jimmy Tamborello has elevated the art of listening. Nearly a third of the crowd sat cross-legged on the Derby's floor, quietly watching Dntel's intricate set, which was enhanced with beautiful projected visuals. The instrument setup included a Gretsch played with a bow, two G4s, an accordion and what looked like the electrical workings of a NASA control panel. One song in particular started off with a melody line similar to "But Not Tonight" by Depeche Mode coupled with quiet vocals and effects that eventually built into a cacophony of thumping drum & bass beats and guitar. Tamborello's facial expressions often insinuated that he was scrambling looking for the correct knob to turn or line to sing, but every note, beat and visual element flowed with perfect synchronicity. Until Sigur R--s come back to town, Dntel will more than ably fill the need for shoegazy electronic pop in Los Angeles.
by T?tiana Simonian [LA Weekly]
THE KILLS
at the Silverlake Lounge, July 18
The Kills are a duo, a self-proclaimed lawless, left-field Bonnie and Clyde of rock & roll. The British dude (code name: Hotel) triggers the drum machine, plays droning, bug-eyed Velvets-blues guitar and sings in a monotone. The American chick (code name: VV) plays guitar sometimes, hangs her long hair like a lampshade across her face, and sings like Chrissie Hynde crossed with PJ Harvey and Royal Trux's Jennifer Herema: sass and bourbon, croons and sighs. They've played together for less than a year and already have several songs that sound like deserved radio hits: hot stuff with grooves, builds and explosive choruses. Live, VV and Hotel play like one of the great rock & roll couples -- locking stares, making motions and sounds charged with private meaning, etc. -- but even Ike and Tina (and Neil and Jennifer, Iggy and Bowie, Kurt 'n' Courtney) never performed regularly as a duo. The Kills do this, taking the stakes higher, making everything that much edgier, pushing the audience into voyeur territory. Watching the Kills bumping and grinding for each other with such joy and abandon, I felt like one of those fans at Toronto's baseball stadium who a few years ago were treated to a midgame sex show by a couple going at it in their private hotel room above the SkyDome's outfield fence, unaware that the entire stadium could see what they were doing. Those fans didn't avert their eyes: They cheered. It didn't matter how many times they'd done it, or seen it -- good sex was still something to be celebrated.
by Jay Babcock [LA Weekly]
at the Derby July 14th, 2002
ONE BAND, UNDER GOD
at the Silver Lake Lounge, June 29, and at the Derby, June 30
at the Fold in Silverlake Lounge, June 27
These days, when someone tells you that a band is from "out of town," they may just mean Corona, as was the case with the Rattlesnakes' show at the Fold. The band even made do without a tour bus or roadies, amazing for such a long journey from their foreign Inland Empire terrain. They invaded the strange, exotic land of L.A., and kicked more than a little ass. The distortion was up and the sweat was flowing. Onstage, the Rattlesnakes seemed more genuinely charismatic and electrifying than most so-called rock & roll combos around. From their unison choral shouts and solid, grooving bass lines to singer Nathan's Tasmanian devil?like stage movements, the band was on fire. While it's certainly possible to say that the Rattlesnakes' music has hints of the solid '70s rock sound currently enjoying a revival, it'd be just as possible to reach further back and say that the honesty the Rattlesnakes bring to their music reminds one of the time when rock & roll was new, threatening and nearly illegal. In a time when many rock bands have dissected music into a cold science with the clear intent of striking it rich, the Rattlesnakes are shakin' the system, raising the volume, and sweating all over you in the process.
CRACK (WE ARE ROCK), BRAD LANER, KID606, SEKSU ROBA
at the Derby, May 17
Crack (We Are Rock) charmed tonight's Gauloise-smoking fobs right out of their ennui-filled poses and onto the dance floor. Looking all of 12 years old in their matching white sleeveless gowns, Crack's leading ladies intoned fem-bot lyrics over keyboard riffs and drum machines "manned" by two faceless guys in back. I later asked the band if it was the droid-drones who composed the songs. "Oh, we're just front women -- we couldn't possibly have written any of the music." Never expect a straight answer from a San Francisco band. Schlubbily dressed in everyday jeans and button-down shirt, Electric Company's Brad Laner layered reams of texture into grating-lovely-intriguing things. One of L.A.'s more far-reaching noise/sound/rock weirdos, Laner seems to take a lot of cues from television, as vaguely familiar theme songs and scores got clusterfucked every which way but loose -- just don't call it "explorations in pure sound" or collage or shit like that, 'cause there was definitely a narrative at work here. This assertion was later confirmed with sober fans, so you know it's not the Dextromathorphan talking. There's a new paradigm for entertainers: Stand still, like a post, and avoid eye contact with the audience. Sounds dull? We defy you not to become transfixed by San Diego's Kid606 (22-year-old Miguel Depedro), the most accomplished digital-punk in the U.S. With face aglow from his dual PowerBooks, Depedro soon developed rosy medallions on his cheeks, giving 110 percent to a drill & bass-gabber-techstep onslaught cut with enough cheese-pop to keep the mix humorous and grooving. Feeling us out before launching into the encore, he asked, "Hard stuff? Soft stuff?" This kid may be more programmer than rock star, but at the end of the day even laptop-geeks are crowd pleasers. Kevin Lee, a.k.a. Seksu Roba, does the bachelor-pad thing as well as any keen disciple of Esquivel, but this Crippled Dick recording artist invests his fluffly lounge chic with hip-swiveling heft. Tonight he got sci-fi on us with woozy theremin while sidekick Lunna Menoh -- in a satin majorette's leotard -- spun a mean baton. To play percussion, Lee even brought aboard a pneumatically controlled tin man (!). It was no Neil Peart, but it easily kept better time than those animatronic players at Chucky Cheez.
February 10, 2002
"When was the last time you had to buy advance tickets to see a local band play your neighborhood? That's the case in Silverlake, where people clamor to see Autolux, the freshest thing to have come out of L.A. in far too long. Drummer Carla Azar, guitarist Greg Edwards and bassist Eugene Goreshter all have well-rounded histories with stints in bands like Ednaswap, Failure and Maids of Gravity. As Autolux, they deliver post-psyche-delic noise-pop that's positively captivating. Don't let California slide into the ocean without first witnessing this trio's vibrant squall first-hand."
Jason Pettigrew - Alternative Press
VENDETTA RED , who have a show upcoming at SIlverlake Lounge on February 20th, 2002 with 400 BLOWS and LIVING THINGS, just inked some deal repotedly in the 3 million dollar to 5 million dollar range with Epic...They will be providing the drink tickets on February 20th....
Apparently, the B.R.M.C. set opening for Oasis (this is getting wierd) at Royal Albert Hall had to be cut just a bit short to make time for a set from Richard Ashcroft.
December 19, 2001
B.R.M.C., Warlocks, Tyde at The Fold at Silverlake Lounge
2906 Sunset Blvd., Silver Lake
It says something that two of the most exciting new acts in modern rock 'n roll--the Strokes and B.R.M.C.--do more for the genre by emulating past influential outfits than by glomming onto new technologies. Sometimes there's just no substitute for guitar, bass and drums, and B.R.M.C.'s self-titled debut has all three in full, feedback-drenched glory. Granted, naysayers can claim they're derivative, but when you're derivative of the Jesus and Mary Chain or the Velvet Underground, you're forgiven for any sins. It's not crime to recall and resurrect a sound that was just too good
the first time around to forget. Be sure to get there in time to catch L.A.'s own psychedelic freaks the Warlocks. --Chris Barton - L.A. Times
12.15.01
SUNSTORM has signed with Rough Trade Records (Strokes, Hope Sandoval). Stay tough, boys.
PARLOUR has signed on with Capitol Records. Stay tough, boys.
MIA DOI TODD has signed with Columbia Records. Stay tough, Mia.
AUTOLUX
at The Fold in Silverlake Lounge August 22, 2001
"The jewel in the crown has to be LA's AUTOLUX, already causing a buzz locally, with actors Vincent Gallo and Giovanni Ribisi among their growing legion of fans. Tonight's show at the Silverlake Lounge is jammed, with a line snaking down the street. Live, Autolux are breathtaking - a combination of the rock punch of early Smashing Pumpkins and the psychedelic sprawl of The Flaming Lips. The sign above the stage reads 'Salvation', and with their wash of feedback-laden guitar effects, Autolux provide an almost religious experience. If there's any justice, this is the band you'll be talking about in 2002.' - review of - from Jason Reynolds - New Music Express
B.R.M.C. are going to be on TV Wednesday June 6th on the Late Late Show on CBS. We are taking the Fold over to the 4100 Bar on Sunday June 10th for a free show with B.R.M.C. It's free, so...you'll get your money's worth. 4100 Bar is also commonly known as the Manzanita Room, the 50/50 Bar, and the Detour. It's 4100 Sunset in Silverlake at Manzanita, you know, that place near Sunset Junction.
No, Nirvana never played here, but Kurt Cobain drank here. (new link)
Los Angeles Times
Thursday, September 28, 2000
Drawing New Believers to the Fold
By KARLA S. BLUME, Times Staff Writer
Silver Lake on a wet Wednesday night--who knows what treasures lie hidden along its deserted streets and nondescript alleyways? The locals know. And quite a few of them head to the best dive in Silver Lake for the Fold, an eclectic musical experience at the Silverlake Lounge. This ugly jewel generates strange visions. Clumps of shimmery balloons hang from the ceiling. Pastel streamers twist out from the shadowy walls. One side of the room is a black-painted bar with mirrors behind it. The other side is one long bench made of wood, where most people sit. And, at the back, a sparkling black and silver curtain frames a shallow and wide stage. In the bar area, encased in a clear tabletop, are pictures of Madonna and Marilyn Monroe. On second look, they are drag queens, maybe even the very ones who sing karaoke here on weekends, when the Fold isn't in effect. But Mondays through Thursdays, Scott Sterling and his monstrous Cerwin-Vega speakers turn this well-worn lounge into a cutting-edge music club, the Fold.
Sterling began the Fold in April 1997 at the Silverlake Lounge to bring what he calls "a diverse set of music" to the L.A. club scene. "I wanted to feature bands that did not fall into one specific genre," he says. After a brief and unsuccessful stint at the Silverlake Lounge, he moved the Fold to the Chorus Club, a larger all-ages venue just north of Koreatown. The location was a deterrent to its success, so a year later the Fold moved back to the Silverlake Lounge.
The crowd at the Fold is as varied as the music. Some are locals out to meet new people. Others come solely for the music. The club has established a regular crowd, which takes some of the pressure off bands, who often have to guarantee a turnout.
* * *
The musical selection on a recent Wednesday featured a prominent band on the L.A. scene, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, better known as BRMC. The natives of San Francisco had residency at the Fold on Wednesday nights during September. Their bass line-driven songs are reminiscent of the Stone Roses circa 1991. And with powerful songs like "Rifle," BRMC has no trouble getting the audience to move to the beat. Frontmen Rob Turner and Peter Hayes make little eye contact with the audience, but they don't have to. The audience is awed--and rightfully so.
Supporting the headliners are their buddies Silent Gray and Western. And even though all of these bands share a British pop influence (Silent Gray is inspired by the Smiths, and Western has a singer who's a dead ringer for Pete Townshend), on another night they might share a different theme.
* * *
Sterling likes to book everything from psychedelic pop-rock bands to acoustic singer-songwriters. Bands like And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead make a Joy Division-esque depression seem enjoyable. Mia Doi Todd's voice, out of another era, convinces you that there is "no room for maidens." Handsome Family creates musical chaos that can split brain cells in any ordinary human. And the Devics conjure up musical interludes disturbing enough for David Lynch and a "Twin Peaks" entourage. No matter what kind of taste you have, the Fold is there to entice you to take a bigger bite. Somehow it's the diversity that draws a consistent crowd. Don't like the music? Come back tomorrow.
Maybe the Silverlake Lounge isn't anything fancy, but maybe that's why so many feel at home there. Sterling hangs a sign made of white lights that reads "Salvation" above the stage each night the Fold is in business. And considering the remarkable music selection available in such a down-to-earth place, maybe he's telling the truth.
After three consecutive sold out shows so far this month, MIA DOI TODD has been invited to be interviewed on KPFK (90.7 FM) by Robert Mora on Tuesday, February 20th, 2001 at 9:15p. She has also been invited to perform live on KXLU (88.9 FM) on Wednesday, February 28th at 5p.
Saturday, February 3, 2001
POP MUSIC REVIEW
Taking a Dreamy Ramble With Alt-Roots-Rock Acetone
By NATALIE NICHOLS
Surrendering to ACETONE's droning melodiousness, the listeners ringing the low stage at the Fold in the Silverlake Lounge on Thursday often closed their eyes and leaned into the music, swaying slightly as the band's alt-roots-rock took them on some private trip. At times, singer-bassist Richie Lee did the same thing. The L.A. trio of Lee, guitarist Mark Lightcap and drummer Steve Hadley found its tiny cult niche in the mid-'90s. They weathered the brief frenzy over the like-minded "No Depression" movement, and now might seem passe to some, compared to the murmuring dreaminess of such British acts as Coldplay and Travis. But such marketplace machinations meant nothing to this audience, nor to Acetone. Its rambling, moody, hourlong set melded Velvet Underground buzz, Crazy Horse sprawl and Flying Burrito Brothers airiness with hazy ruminations that tended to be reassuring rather than neurotic. True, its new album "York Blvd." rocks more straightforwardly in places than its three previous releases, but the band didn't hesitate to take such tracks as "Things Are Gonna Be Alright" back into the watery realm of space-rock.
* * *
A sprawling instrumental passage emphasized Acetone's low-key, freak-rock capabilities, but such selections as the catchy, almost bubbly "Wonderful World" had actual commercial potential. The bluesy elements of Lightcap's playing were enhanced by guest organist Jason Yates' exuberant, wheezy-cool soulfulness. Indeed, Yates' fine contributions kept the songs from sounding monochromatic, giving the proceedings an old-fashioned R&B flavor, faintly reminiscent of the Band's better moments.
POP MUSIC REVIEW
Eleni Mandell Delves Into Despair With Sly Wit Intact
By NATALIE NICHOLS - 01 - 26 - 01 LA Times
Like her chief influences, Tom Waits and X, singer-songwriter Eleni Mandell lives in a black-and-white world where the gray areas matter most. During her sold-out Wednesday performance at the Fold at the Silverlake Lounge, the Angeleno limned minor-key tales of alluring but untrustworthy men, unsuspecting yet resilient women and the assorted victims of her characters' irresistible charms.
The subtly erotic mix of bluesy folk and noir shades of jazz and cabaret on her critically praised independent albums, last year's "Thrill" and 1998's "Wishbone,"