Throw as many talented musicians onto a stage as possible, and goodness is bound to prevail. Everyone brings a little piece of themselves to mesh with the other contributions, and the result is generally an outstanding collection of lively sounds.
So was the truth at Doug Fir on Thursday night as three bands performed sets that intermittently brought members of the other bands onto the stage to unleash a music free-for-all. And while plenty of terrific stuff was created because of it, it didn’t quite make up for the lacking moments that transpired when the opening bands were playing on their own.
Touring the West Coast were three L.A. bands that thrive on high energy: Local Natives, Fool’s Gold and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I had become a pretty big fan of ESATMZ this summer, happily dancing around whenever I heard any of their hippie love-ramble playing. The band seemed a revival of the ‘60s, featuring up to eleven smiling members who never stopped moving, and a long-haired leader of a man that maybe had smoked a tad too much of something happy. That said, their music is more than addictive, full of whistling grooves, bold trumpet blasts, and steady drum beats.
But the bands that opened for them this night didn’t quite match up to the awesome ESATMZ would lay down on the stage at the end. Local Natives proved an eager bunch, playing an L.A. brand of indie that sometimes worked, but often didn’t. Their recorded music is pretty damn good, but as they performed it live, it felt they were trying too hard. And the use of four voices to craft a harmony got a little old after a while. I still give them credit, though, particularly for a rare Talking Heads cover, a bombastic version of their own "Sun Hands" and the exciting final song, which employed ESATMZ singer Jade Castrinos as an additional vocalist.
Fool’s Gold is another story, though. Eight of the band’s collective were present, yielding a saxophone, guitars, keyboard, bass, flute, snare and hand drums, maracas, and the largest cymbals I’ve ever seen. Half the group seemed happy to be playing their laid-back, tropical beat, while the other half were so full of themselves I almost left the show. Their melodies were always drawn out for far too long, and while I am sure their sound is much appreciated by some, I could never get into it. Too often I felt I was listening to a soundtrack from an ‘80s drug movie that frequently saw the bad guys roaming the beaches of Miami.
The Fool’s Gold last song continued the collaboration trend, as Local Natives jumped on stage, wearing funky masks, to sing along. Castrinos had made an appearance during the opening song, clad in a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat, but she was nowhere to be seen for the finale. I had hoped to see her again, because my curiosity of what her and Alex Ebert, a/k/a Edward Sharpe, were going to produce onstage together was eating me up with anxiety. Known for being Ebert’s muse, it’s never been clear if the two really are lovers, or just personalities that complement each other incredibly well for the kind of music they put out. Hearing her belt out deep and powerful vocals in her two appearances with the openers showed she was more than capable to go it without Ebert, so their performance together looked set to be marvelous.
ESATMZ came onto the stage ten members deep, brandishing much of the same instruments Fool’s Gold had used, adding a viola and trumpet to the mix. The barefoot Ebert set the theme the second he entered, pulling off his dazed, free-loving identity in a way that never felt fake or staged. The man seems to genuinely adore music and the people that surround him, and it releases from him in a contagious way. Doug Fir was overly crowded with fans, and their reaction to Ebert’s lackadaisical ways brimmed with enthusiasm. As ESATMZ played such freewheeling tunes "Janglin'" and "Carries On," the crowd began to match the band’s excitement, jumping in time with the music and smiling ear-to-ear. At least two groups of friends in the audience even linked their arms around each other’s shoulders and jumped in unison. It got me grinning giddily, and I wasn’t ashamed a bit.
Ebert seemed grateful for the fans and their appreciation, handing the microphone to a man at the crowd’s front midway through "40 Day Dream" so the fan could finish the song for him. Meanwhile, Castrinos nonchalantly weaved across the stage, acting as if bliss never leaves her mind. The love connection seemed absent between her and Ebert, but they still managed to nail their now famous duet for the hit "Home." Changing the dialogue for the spoken-word section of the song from a romantic banter to a revelation from Castrinos that she’d eaten some bad soup that day, the song still remained a compelling ditty.
As was the entire performance by ESATMZ: compelling and beautiful and refreshing. I like to think no one in that group could care any less about earning money with their art, but that rather, they do it to inject happiness into whoever hears their sounds. Their ramble came to an end with another mass gathering of the night’s musicians, and it was aptly accentuated with lots of hand claps and joy. It was a spirited ending to this fantastic show, and full of enough warmth to even fend off the freezing cold outdoors. Best said in "40 Day Dream": "Whoa, oh, it’s the magical mystery kind . . . ."
