The legendary Spaceland is a great venue for up-and-coming local acts on weeknights, as well as established indie bands with faithful followings on the weekends. Nestled in Silverlake, just below the reservoir, it has a funky, well-warn charm that makes it the perfect spot to grab a beer and listen to some great music.
Local band, Voxhaul Broadcast, opened up Friday night’s concert with a tight set of catchy, upbeat funk and soulful indie rock. The four-man group from Los Angeles are no strangers to Spaceland, having recently played in residency back in March, and they seemed at home on stage as they strutted through their set with surprising polish and cohesion for an opening act. With Sundance and SXSW appearances already this year, it seems only a matter of time before they achieve more widespread recognition.
Second up was Grand Ole Party, a three-piece band out of San Diego, led by singer-drummer Kristen Gundred. From the first song, GOP played with fierce spunk and enthusiasm, filling the venue with their own brash brand of blues and punk inspired indie rock. The majority of their songs feature an up-tempo kick drum sound with bluesy guitar licks, ala The White Stripes. While the guys on guitar and bass performed admirably, this band is all about Gundred. Perched behind her drum-set at center stage, she commanded attention as she snarled and howled through the set. Her presence was equal parts sass and rebel. With lyrics like “I must be the devil’s daughter” and “My lips that bud like daggers”, this is a woman to be reckoned with. While there have already been numerous comparisons to another female driven rock band, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, GOP have their own sound and deserve better than to be lumped together. If you’re in need of something to rock out to on the long hot summer nights, look no further. They closed their set with the contagious “Look Out Young Son”.
The evening concluded with a wild and inspired performance by The Fiery Furnaces. By this point in the night the majority of the crowd was seriously soused and the Furnaces’ provided them with an outlet for their manic energy, as more than a few of their rabid and devoted fans shrieked back lyrics to the band as if possessed with rapture and speaking in tongues. Hailing from Brooklyn, the Furnaces are led by brother and sister Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger. Their eclectic sound is difficult to pinpoint - a mish-mash of electronic organ, xylophone, rock, and disco beats. Eleanor performs most of the vocal duties and delivers their oblique and often-irreverent lyrics in a sly melodic deadpan. Their songs were sprawling, often beginning with catchy refrains and melodies before delving off into more experimental territory with lyrics spoken in a hushed staccato and long, repetitive soundscapes. At times, their arrangements bordered on the tedious and obscure, but the fervent energy with which they attacked each song kept the set interesting. Towards the end of the show, one inebriated devotee took to the stage sans shirt and gyrated to the beat of the song as he swung his shirt round his head. Without hesitation, Matthew leaped into action and tackled the buffoon off the stage in one fearless move. I still have no idea whether or not that was a planned gag, but nonetheless I was I seriously impressed by his jungle cat-like reflexes.
