Sarah Tomlinson: Blog

3.3 Sonny Von Bulow @ Show Pony

There’s a cute little strip of Echo Park Blvd. (not far off Sunset) that has a happening block party the first Saturday of each month. (Now that I’ve given you the tip, please don’t buy that green silk blouse I have my eye on at Show Pony. Come on, be a pal). The shops and galleries are open late. A pack of stylish art enthusiasts turn out to drink wine, flirt, catch up with acquaintances and dodge the lovely little girl navigating the good times on her tricycle. Among the night’s best destinations was Show Pony (at 1543 Echo Park), which featured a striking art show, “10 Thousand Million Nerve Cells” by Rolin T. Colburn. His intricate drawings and collages were composed of doodles, nerved up line drawings and retro flavored found art, all rendered in sly offbeat ways (on envelopes and sheets of notebook paper) that made them feel like fragile secrets. The store also featured a sweet show by Sonny Von Bulow (i.e. Lincoln Madley from Venice), who whipped up a velvety ‘80s sound (a la lo-fi Roxy Music) with simple, Casio-style samples, a little guitar, and an eccentric stage persona that included sometimes singing with a quilt and (appropriately) a vintage Louis Vuitton scarf over his head. He opened with a spot-on cover of the gorgeous Nick Cave classic “Shivers” (anyone else remember the “Dogs in Space” soundtrack as fondly as I do?), and then made his way through a short set of moody pop ballads, with a few cracked vocals and his overall intensity adding charm.

After that, it was on to the MOCA Members’ Opening of the new exhibition “WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution” at the MOCA, which featured Le Tigre’s JD Samson and Johanna Fateman on the decks. They kept the crowd moving (in spite of the awkwardness of trying to dance on asphalt in heels) with their own high spirited dance moves and a playful set of classics and newbies (from “Like a Prayer” to “My Neck, My Back.”) The night also featured some truly fantastic people watching – who was that art house Heidi in the strange homemade ensemble, and how about that woman in the black square pasties and white lipstick? Amazing!

And from there, on to the Happy Hour party at the Museum of Natural History, which was not exactly happening by midnight (maybe due to the lack of parking because of the next day’s LA Marathon). But it was a truly inspired party location. You can’t beat dancing to Peter Bjorn and John amid taxidermied rhinos and giraffes while a person in a full body ape costume strolls by.

P.S. A shout out to my friend Steffie, who was my tour guide for the night: check out her LA Weekly's Style Council blog, including her write-up of my T. Rex-themed birthday show.

3.4 Fuckwolf // Dani Wind @ The Echo

So, normally experimental noise and avant garde indie rock shows aren’t necessarily my jam. I can intellectually understand why the music is interesting and novel and good, but I just don’t feel it. I’m a wuss. I like lyrics. I like sexy little bump and grinds. I like big meaty riffs. I like maraca. But I’m also as susceptible to peer pressure as the next wuss, and I’d heard that San Francisco’s Fuckwolf were cool (plus, it must be said, I love the name – who can argue with Fuckwolf? Where do you even go from there?) and Montreal’s Dani Wind is gaining buzz as a loveable eccentric with a fresh new (and yes, loveably weird) sound. And so I found myself at Part Time Punks, the Echo’s regular Sunday night hang, to check out the fuss. And Fuckwolf were great. Their set had a loose swing. And while they unleashed a sonic maelstrom that drew on the likes of sock hop guitar sounds, jazzy bass lines and swirls of space aged sound effects, the band was tight enough to make it all coalesce into riveting, melodically engaging soundscapes that, yes, you could dance to.

Dani Wind has definitely earned her stripes as a one-of-a-kind performer, with wild, arty costumes and a sugar rush stage presence that makes Karen O look like Celine Dion. For my real deal -- cross your Ts and dot your Is -- review, check out this week’s LA Record.

3.12 El Perro del Mar @ ExPlex

How lovely and rare. It’s not until you hear a talent like El Perro del Mar perform live that accolades like chanteuse and songbird are actually imbued with meaning. She made the cavernous (and super sexy) new ExPlex space under The Echo feel intimate and continental as she unleashed her beautiful, soulful voice on the room with about as much seeming effort as the rest of us were exerting while breathing. El Perro del Mar is actually lone (Swedish) singer/songwriter Sarah Assbring, who looked pretty and retro, in the loveliest, most Euro way, in a girlish dress and black leggings. During the show, she was backed by three well dressed lads in black suits and skinny ties, complete with white flowers in their button holes, on guitar bass and organ (and sweet backing harmonies on the gorgeous celebration “I Found a Reason.”) She can make mournful swing, and even render heartache as hopeful. But while the slightly mod arrangements were delicate and lovely, she was never more moving than when singing with just her guitar, as she tackled Gordon Lightfoot’s “I’m Not Sayin." Her version clearly paid homage to Nico, who previously covered the song. And yet, hers was rendered without any tragedy or weight, leaving just the purity and loveliness, which was apt, as that was the overwhelming mood of her entire set.

By Sarah Tomlinson,
Globe Correspondent / January 23, 2009

LOS ANGELES - It was hard to tell who was having more fun at Longwave's show at the Troubadour in December - the fans or the band. The indie rockers, decked out in the vintage boots and fitted black attire of their hip Brooklyn neighborhood, were playing moody, symphonic music more appropriate for breaking up than rocking out, but they were decidedly lighthearted. During one swooning number from the band's fourth album, "Secrets Are Sinister," singer/guitarist Steve Schiltz paused to playfully tap one of drummer Jason Molina's cymbals with his finger before unleashing a fierce guitar solo. The band's high spirits were contagious, and the crowd cheered mightily and sang along to old favorites, even playing air drums from time to time.

It was a remarkably warm welcome for Longwave's first LA show in five years, especially heartening for a band that didn't know for a while if it would ever perform again. On a morale-crushing night in December 2005, Longwave played to a meager audience at the Middle East Downstairs after learning RCA Records had dropped them. "The last show in Boston was the real nail in the coffin there for a second," says Schiltz, whose unruly curls give him a boyish air, sitting with his bandmates in an unassuming conference room the night before their Los Angeles show. "That show was tough for us, and I remember thinking, '. . . This is just the end of it.' "

But, as sometimes happens, this downturn didn't kill the band; it actually made it stronger. At the Troubadour, the mop-topped quartet played harder, faster, and louder than they did during more elegiac shows of the past. It was as if they'd been liberated by the time when they were lucky to play for a handful of people at shows booked mostly to pay down their debt. When the band did dip into old material, including the ballad "Wake Me When It's Over" from its 2003 major label debut, "The Strangest Things," it roughed up the songs' refined beauty.

This brashness has carried over from the new, more raw "Secrets Are Sinister," released in November. The band recorded the album on its own with producer Peter Katis (Interpol), with production costs covered by the band's longtime publisher, Chrysalis Music Publishing, before finding a label to release it. When it came time to find a label, Longwave again chose to work with a friend, who convinced the group to sign with the newly formed label Original Signal Recordings (Butch Walker, the Bronx ). The band returned to the studio with a fresh sense of possibility. "We were all excited about trying something else," Schiltz says, citing production details such as adding hand claps or changing out the bass strings.

Each band member brought ideas inspired by projects he had worked on during Longwave's downtime. Schiltz had the chance to experiment with a grittier, more flamboyant guitar style while backing Strokes guitarist Albert Hammond Jr. during solo tours. Founding guitarist Shannon Ferguson and drummer Molina developed a side project, Falcon, whose minimal sound seems to have contributed to Longwave's new airier feel. New bassist Morgan King was recruited from Brooklyn-based indie rock band Robbers on High Street, bringing a muscular but melodic bass style.

For all the fresh influences, Longwave's new album still maintains the lush romanticism the band has always favored. Longtime fan Damian Kulash of Los Angeles-based OK Go, which plays the Paradise on March 12 before taking Longwave out as openers on a string of East Coast dates, says Longwave's deeply felt music sets the band apart. "The type of music they do would have been really cool in the early '90s, but was not particularly cool when they started doing it," says Kulash by phone during a break from recording a new record. "It seems to me like it fits again in some way - actually beautiful music, and music with a soul, as opposed to music with a snarl or a grimace."

Having learned the hard way that major label support and years of touring don't guarantee success in an increasingly mercurial music world, the band is keeping its expectations low. But its members are clearly thrilled to be a band again. "We decided that it was still fun playing together," says Schiltz. "At that point, it was like, 'Well, what do you do next but make another record?' That's what bands do."

© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.