I almost missed this show. Not sure if I was up for another night out, after a weekend of little sleep, I could have easily curled up on the couch and watched some X-Files (yes, I’m a nerd.) Reason number two that I am a nerd—this was my first time at the newly combined Red Palace, which has quickly become one of my new favorite places to see a show because it is intimate, comfortable and has great sound.
I arrived in the middle of Young Prisms’ set. Dreamy, neo-shoegaze from San Francisco, Young Prisms do not have a sunny stage presence. Matt Allen and Jason Hendardy’s swooning guitars pay obvious homage to My Bloody Valentine, while Stefanie’s vocals Slowdive into a misty Icelandic lagoon with vapors that rise into clouds over the crowd.
She is rather listless, hiding behind hipster bangs and an over-sized jean jacket. She swayed to the blissful mist of sound coming from her own lips like she was confused that she was singing at all. There was something kind of awkward about her that left me a bit disenchanted by the performance. I have not had a chance to give their full length LP Friends for Now (2011) a proper listen, but the MP3’s I have streamed are all lovely and worth exploring, but I don’t think I’d go see them again.
The Crocodiles should headline every show they play. They know how to rock the fuck out and guitarist, Charles Rowell, likes to show off. Yet another band from California, Crocodiles steal the darker shades of the California sun to flame the Spacemen 3/Jesus and Mary Chain meets Monks/Cramps noise-pop they have perfected.
I think Rowell knows he’s damn good because he sort of competed with Brandon Welchez for center stage, but honestly that just made the show that much more fun. Welchez who is married to Dee Dee Penny of the Dum Dum Girls, certainly has a similarly gripping stage presence. Larger than life.
The Fresh and Only’s were not what I’d expected live. I was all jazzed to see them—I am in love with their first LP, Green Eyed Girl—but I found them subdued live, perhaps because they were after the Crododiles in-your-face performance.
Obviously promoting their newest release, songs from Play it Strange dominated the set which had the country twang of The Byrds. I was hoping for a more Ty Segal-esque garage-grime element to the show because thier debut Green Eyed Girls was such a crushingly good garage/psyche/pop album.
Highlights of the night included “Waterfall,” crushingly good, almost surf-rocky and thankfully “Peacock and Wing,” which makes me feel like I should be skating around San-Fransico with my lover, ice-cream in one hand and his in the other. I’ll throw this in for shits and giggles—the Crocodile’s “Summer of Hate” bookmarks a darker section of 60’s psyche, channeling, say the Electric Prunes where as The Fresh and Only’s “Summer of Love” is a flowery 60’s phyche ballad reminiscent of Blues Magoos to end the night on a cheerful note.
You see what I did there?
