Full house sees the Duke Spirit deal

Liela Moss can talk the talk. Now her band, the Duke Spirit, has "The Step and the Walk," and the sky might be the limit.

That single, off the British quintet's new album "Neptune," capped a set that made you forget its occasional soft spots on Wednesday night at the Echo, which was more crowded than NME's thesaurus of platitudes. The shoulder-to-shoulder masses witnessed a band that's about one tick short of a 12 o'clock high, as Moss and bandmates dealt lean, foreboding garage rock that harks back to the '80s and '90s Britpop heydays.

It all hinges on Moss, the singer who's as much icy hot as hot-and-bothered. Her pipes have drawn comparison to Patti Smith and Nico and PJ Harvey; maybe there's some more-gutteral Chrissie Hynde in there too, in the phrasing; and somebody in the throng even suggested Christina Amphlett of Divinyls, which ... might not be too far off. Whatever. Moss delivers, even if you feel at times she's trapped between offering herself directly to the crowd and maintaining her veneer of detached cool.

There's a weather-beaten intelligence in Duke Spirit songs such as "Send a Little Love Token," "Into the Fold" and "Cuts Across the Land" (the latter from their 2006 debut) that lesser bands might suffocate in histrionics. On Wednesday, nobody was gasping for air, except maybe the bartenders.

||| Live: The Duke Spirit return to L.A. for a May 13 show at the Troubadour.

||| Stream: "Send a Little Love Token" [login required].

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

[Be still your indie-rock hearts for a minute -- this local-music installment groups three veterans of the L.A. scene with new albums, hosts of collaborators and upcoming shows:]

Jim Bianco

One of the originals on the Hotel Cafe scene, Jim Bianco comes as close as anybody I've heard to filling the long shadow of Randy Newman. On his third album, "Sing" (March 4, Hotel Cafe Records), Bianco's nifty horn-, accordion- and piano-flavored arrangements and (occasionally) smilingly bawdy vignettes are as fit for smoky dives as swanky lounges. And the singer's vaguely Waits-ian rasp is made for couplets like "To hell with the devil / I'm sellin' my soul to you," not to mention elastic enough to sell piano ballads ("Painkiller") and groovy excursions ("If Your Mama Knew," which sprinkles in "Rhapsody in Blue"). "Sing," the Brooklyn native's third album, is the first release on a new label spun off the Cahuenga Boulevard venue and includes cameos by Gary Jules and Cary Brothers.

||| Live: Bianco plays his album-release show at the Hotel Cafe on March 4, and a free in-store at Amoeba Music at 7 p.m. March 5. He also performs on the Hotel Cafe Tour (March 8 at the House of Blues Anaheim and April 12 at the Music Box @ Fonda).

||| Download: "I Got a Thing for You". Check out the video for the song here.

Photo by Bethany Dwyer



Shane Alexander

The frontman of the longtime L.A. band Damone -- before they sold the name to these people -- Shane Alexander has stretched out incrementally on each of three solo albums, and his latest, "The Sky Below" (out today on BuddhaLand Records) muscles up considerably. Alexander, whose vocals might remind you the Gin Blossoms' Robin Wilson (or a couple other '90s radio mainstays), remains an effective acoustic troubadour (especially on the title track), but with the help of backing players Chad Crawford, Charlie Paxson, Billy Mohler and Kim Bullard, he has created a catchy slice of meticulously produced mid-tempo rock.

||| Live: Alexander (co-billed with the bluesy Chris Pierce) plays the Troubadour on Wednesday.

||| Stream: "Amsterdam" here.

Photo: viakarlo@snapglamstudios.com

James Combs

James Combs gets a lot of mileage out choked notes, sprightly orchestration and a sprinkling of synths on his third album, "To Know You Is to Save You." His filmy vocals are best when paired with collaborators Kelly De Martino and Erin Shawn Hawkins, but even alone they are ripe for his wry storytelling, amplified by a host of backing players that includes Nik Freitas (whose own album, "Sun Down," is coming April 8). These are the tunes of vivid, waking dreams, and, every so often, realization.

||| Live: Combs, joined by Wisely and Buddy, plays El Cid on Friday.

||| Download: "Oh Me."

[In a decade long ago and far, far away, the 1990s, I used to shell out import prices for British bands I'd get excited about. Their releases always predated the U.S. distribution of their albums, and on many occasions I Just Couldn't Wait. Now that I receive music in advance, those mail-order companies don't get as much of my paycheck. But this installment of from-the-hip blurbs about new albums features three bands I'd have opened the wallet for (even at $23.49 on Amazon):]

     

The Duke Spirit, "Neptune" (April 8, Shangri-La; Feb. 12 in the U.K.): Talk about a voice -- I'll see your Feist and two photogenic MySpace songstresses and raise you Liela Moss. Her foreboding delivery seems to come from down here, imploring you care very deeply about her slightly bent diary entries. Take the pluck from the best couple tracks of quintet's nice debut, "Cuts Across the Land," and imagine that over a full album, and you have a band U.S. audiences ought to heed. The Duke Spirit haven't had much luck in America, but a strong tour and a little support for "Neptune" (which was recorded in Joshua Tree) could change that.

||| Live: The Duke Spirit play the Echo on March 5.

||| Stream the album here.

Watch: Video for "The Step and the Walk":

The Raveonettes, "Lust, Lust, Lust" (Feb. 19, Vice; Nov. 12, 2007, in the U.K.): It's as if everything Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo tried to align on their first to albums has suddenly coalesced. Fuzzy, dark, simmering, shimmering and nodding to decades-ago girl groups and surf guitar outfits, "Lust(x3)" is like a churning ocean in the waning light. When they played as a duo last summer at the Little Radio warehouse downtown, I had no inkling some these songs would end up so fully formed.

||| Live: The Raveonettes have dates March 1 at the Glass House, March 2 at the Detroit Bar and March 4 at the El Rey Theatre.

||| Download: "Dead Sound."

British Sea Power, "Do You Like Rock Music?" (Feb. 12, Rough Trade): You hear the Brighton quartet wrestling with the big issues on this album, and the title's question feels almost like a challenge. Listening is like riding a beast; BSP's unvarnished, delightfully meandering anthems sound larger than life. Bring on foliage and military uniforms, lads, we're prepared to salute.

||| Live: British Sea Power plays Feb. 27 at the Echo and Feb. 28 at Spaceland.

"No Lucifer" by British Sea Power

[One in a series on new music by L.A. artists ...]

"Staring at Yourself," the second EP from L.A. seven-piece I Make This Sound, doesn't leave you much time for navel-gazing. Rich with vivid imagery and lush, playful arrangements, Jonathan Price and his piano-man voice lead you through all manner of intrigue and orchestral derring-do; sometimes it feel like the band is packing 10-minute epics into four minutes. Like on "One, Two, Three!" -- one moment you're seduced by a tinkling piano, the next you're bopping to girl-group backing vocals, and the next you're going 100 mph on a guitar riff. A nice ride.

||| Download: "The King and Queen."

On their "Eat Your Heart Out" EP, L.A. quintet the Breakups go easy on everything -- the jangly guitars, the twinkling keys, the harmonies. Easy-does-it, however, does not equal easy listening. The ebb and flow of the six-song effort and the wry nuances of numbers like "Tissue Sample" and "After the Fact" make this a nifty record that glances back at power pop's '70s heyday but reminds you more of the likes of Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and (vocally) Michael Penn.

||| Download: "After the Fact."

||| Live: I Make This Sound and the Breakups celebrate their EP releases tonight at the Echo, supported by Amateurs and Le Switch.

Photos: the Breakups by Denver Mark Bon, I Make This Sound by Rebecca Sanabria

Highlights for Wednesday, Feb. 13

The Weather Underground, with A For Attack and Free Moral Agents supporting, continues its residency at the Silverlake Lounge. .... Captain Automatic plays downtown at Bordello. ... Andre Williams and the Flash Express bring the party to Club NME at Spaceland. ... And Brian Wright & the Waco Tragedies and Ferraby Lionheart are on the bill at the Hotel Cafe.

Meet Kárin Tatoyan. She's the one who started her set Monday night at Spaceland on her knees, not so much launching into song as breaking into an incantation. Who jammed virtually breathlessly for the first 10 minutes, teetering between hysteria and rapture. Who commanded your attention despite the fact the faces of her otherwise nattily attired sidemen were streaked with glitter paint. Who had you believing, straightaway.

Think of Tatoyan as a baroque Bjork. If her haunting vocals don't dazzle you, her odd music will -- counterposing, as it does, weird electronics, sound effects and loops with the very organic tones of a French horn and cello. Seeing her is like watching an Escher come to life. Almost-mathematical repetition gives way to chaos; melodies build and build yet resist payoff, like stairways to nowhere. On Monday, she started one number with an innocent comment that rang fairly large: "I'm gonna make a new sound." (It referred to a noise she was trying to loop.)

Her opening set for the Pity Party's residency was only the 10th live performance for Tatoyan, a 24-year-old of Syrian-Armenian descent who studied experimental music at Mills College. It was as distinctive (and almost improvisational) as anything you'll see in an L.A. club. She has only one DIY release, "The History of Stains" EP (which sounds a bit restrained compared to the stage show), but there are some labels snooping around. Stay tuned.

||| Download: "Fit In."

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

Highlights for Tuesday, Feb. 12

Low Vs Diamond checks in at the Viper Room. ... She's Your Sister plays the Silverlake Lounge. ... It's Aushua and Moris Tepper at the Echo, and Talkdemonic at Spaceland. ... And in the Alterknit Lounge at the Knitting Factory, Ride on Rides performs.

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

◊ ◊ ◊

My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

◊ ◊ ◊

Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Ears Wide Open: Jim Bianco, Shane Alexander, James Combs

[Be still your indie-rock hearts for a minute -- this local-music installment groups three veterans of the L.A. scene with new albums, hosts of collaborators and upcoming shows:]

Jim Bianco

One of the originals on the Hotel Cafe scene, Jim Bianco comes as close as anybody I've heard to filling the long shadow of Randy Newman. On his third album, "Sing" (March 4, Hotel Cafe Records), Bianco's nifty horn-, accordion- and piano-flavored arrangements and (occasionally) smilingly bawdy vignettes are as fit for smoky dives as swanky lounges. And the singer's vaguely Waits-ian rasp is made for couplets like "To hell with the devil / I'm sellin' my soul to you," not to mention elastic enough to sell piano ballads ("Painkiller") and groovy excursions ("If Your Mama Knew," which sprinkles in "Rhapsody in Blue"). "Sing," the Brooklyn native's third album, is the first release on a new label spun off the Cahuenga Boulevard venue and includes cameos by Gary Jules and Cary Brothers.

||| Live: Bianco plays his album-release show at the Hotel Cafe on March 4, and a free in-store at Amoeba Music at 7 p.m. March 5. He also performs on the Hotel Cafe Tour (March 8 at the House of Blues Anaheim and April 12 at the Music Box @ Fonda).

||| Download: "I Got a Thing for You". Check out the video for the song here.

Photo by Bethany Dwyer



Shane Alexander

The frontman of the longtime L.A. band Damone -- before they sold the name to these people -- Shane Alexander has stretched out incrementally on each of three solo albums, and his latest, "The Sky Below" (out today on BuddhaLand Records) muscles up considerably. Alexander, whose vocals might remind you the Gin Blossoms' Robin Wilson (or a couple other '90s radio mainstays), remains an effective acoustic troubadour (especially on the title track), but with the help of backing players Chad Crawford, Charlie Paxson, Billy Mohler and Kim Bullard, he has created a catchy slice of meticulously produced mid-tempo rock.

||| Live: Alexander (co-billed with the bluesy Chris Pierce) plays the Troubadour on Wednesday.

||| Stream: "Amsterdam" here.

Photo: viakarlo@snapglamstudios.com

James Combs

James Combs gets a lot of mileage out choked notes, sprightly orchestration and a sprinkling of synths on his third album, "To Know You Is to Save You." His filmy vocals are best when paired with collaborators Kelly De Martino and Erin Shawn Hawkins, but even alone they are ripe for his wry storytelling, amplified by a host of backing players that includes Nik Freitas (whose own album, "Sun Down," is coming April 8). These are the tunes of vivid, waking dreams, and, every so often, realization.

||| Live: Combs, joined by Wisely and Buddy, plays El Cid on Friday.

||| Download: "Oh Me."

[In a decade long ago and far, far away, the 1990s, I used to shell out import prices for British bands I'd get excited about. Their releases always predated the U.S. distribution of their albums, and on many occasions I Just Couldn't Wait. Now that I receive music in advance, those mail-order companies don't get as much of my paycheck. But this installment of from-the-hip blurbs about new albums features three bands I'd have opened the wallet for (even at $23.49 on Amazon):]

     

The Duke Spirit, "Neptune" (April 8, Shangri-La; Feb. 12 in the U.K.): Talk about a voice -- I'll see your Feist and two photogenic MySpace songstresses and raise you Liela Moss. Her foreboding delivery seems to come from down here, imploring you care very deeply about her slightly bent diary entries. Take the pluck from the best couple tracks of quintet's nice debut, "Cuts Across the Land," and imagine that over a full album, and you have a band U.S. audiences ought to heed. The Duke Spirit haven't had much luck in America, but a strong tour and a little support for "Neptune" (which was recorded in Joshua Tree) could change that.

||| Live: The Duke Spirit play the Echo on March 5.

||| Stream the album here.

Watch: Video for "The Step and the Walk":

The Raveonettes, "Lust, Lust, Lust" (Feb. 19, Vice; Nov. 12, 2007, in the U.K.): It's as if everything Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo tried to align on their first to albums has suddenly coalesced. Fuzzy, dark, simmering, shimmering and nodding to decades-ago girl groups and surf guitar outfits, "Lust(x3)" is like a churning ocean in the waning light. When they played as a duo last summer at the Little Radio warehouse downtown, I had no inkling some these songs would end up so fully formed.

||| Live: The Raveonettes have dates March 1 at the Glass House, March 2 at the Detroit Bar and March 4 at the El Rey Theatre.

||| Download: "Dead Sound."

British Sea Power, "Do You Like Rock Music?" (Feb. 12, Rough Trade): You hear the Brighton quartet wrestling with the big issues on this album, and the title's question feels almost like a challenge. Listening is like riding a beast; BSP's unvarnished, delightfully meandering anthems sound larger than life. Bring on foliage and military uniforms, lads, we're prepared to salute.

||| Live: British Sea Power plays Feb. 27 at the Echo and Feb. 28 at Spaceland.

"No Lucifer" by British Sea Power

[One in a series on new music by L.A. artists ...]

"Staring at Yourself," the second EP from L.A. seven-piece I Make This Sound, doesn't leave you much time for navel-gazing. Rich with vivid imagery and lush, playful arrangements, Jonathan Price and his piano-man voice lead you through all manner of intrigue and orchestral derring-do; sometimes it feel like the band is packing 10-minute epics into four minutes. Like on "One, Two, Three!" -- one moment you're seduced by a tinkling piano, the next you're bopping to girl-group backing vocals, and the next you're going 100 mph on a guitar riff. A nice ride.

||| Download: "The King and Queen."

On their "Eat Your Heart Out" EP, L.A. quintet the Breakups go easy on everything -- the jangly guitars, the twinkling keys, the harmonies. Easy-does-it, however, does not equal easy listening. The ebb and flow of the six-song effort and the wry nuances of numbers like "Tissue Sample" and "After the Fact" make this a nifty record that glances back at power pop's '70s heyday but reminds you more of the likes of Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and (vocally) Michael Penn.

||| Download: "After the Fact."

||| Live: I Make This Sound and the Breakups celebrate their EP releases tonight at the Echo, supported by Amateurs and Le Switch.

Photos: the Breakups by Denver Mark Bon, I Make This Sound by Rebecca Sanabria

Highlights for Wednesday, Feb. 13

The Weather Underground, with A For Attack and Free Moral Agents supporting, continues its residency at the Silverlake Lounge. .... Captain Automatic plays downtown at Bordello. ... Andre Williams and the Flash Express bring the party to Club NME at Spaceland. ... And Brian Wright & the Waco Tragedies and Ferraby Lionheart are on the bill at the Hotel Cafe.

Meet Kárin Tatoyan. She's the one who started her set Monday night at Spaceland on her knees, not so much launching into song as breaking into an incantation. Who jammed virtually breathlessly for the first 10 minutes, teetering between hysteria and rapture. Who commanded your attention despite the fact the faces of her otherwise nattily attired sidemen were streaked with glitter paint. Who had you believing, straightaway.

Think of Tatoyan as a baroque Bjork. If her haunting vocals don't dazzle you, her odd music will -- counterposing, as it does, weird electronics, sound effects and loops with the very organic tones of a French horn and cello. Seeing her is like watching an Escher come to life. Almost-mathematical repetition gives way to chaos; melodies build and build yet resist payoff, like stairways to nowhere. On Monday, she started one number with an innocent comment that rang fairly large: "I'm gonna make a new sound." (It referred to a noise she was trying to loop.)

Her opening set for the Pity Party's residency was only the 10th live performance for Tatoyan, a 24-year-old of Syrian-Armenian descent who studied experimental music at Mills College. It was as distinctive (and almost improvisational) as anything you'll see in an L.A. club. She has only one DIY release, "The History of Stains" EP (which sounds a bit restrained compared to the stage show), but there are some labels snooping around. Stay tuned.

||| Download: "Fit In."

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

Highlights for Tuesday, Feb. 12

Low Vs Diamond checks in at the Viper Room. ... She's Your Sister plays the Silverlake Lounge. ... It's Aushua and Moris Tepper at the Echo, and Talkdemonic at Spaceland. ... And in the Alterknit Lounge at the Knitting Factory, Ride on Rides performs.

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

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My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

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Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Incoming: The Duke Spirit, the Raveonettes, British Sea Power

[In a decade long ago and far, far away, the 1990s, I used to shell out import prices for British bands I'd get excited about. Their releases always predated the U.S. distribution of their albums, and on many occasions I Just Couldn't Wait. Now that I receive music in advance, those mail-order companies don't get as much of my paycheck. But this installment of from-the-hip blurbs about new albums features three bands I'd have opened the wallet for (even at $23.49 on Amazon):]

     

The Duke Spirit, "Neptune" (April 8, Shangri-La; Feb. 12 in the U.K.): Talk about a voice -- I'll see your Feist and two photogenic MySpace songstresses and raise you Liela Moss. Her foreboding delivery seems to come from down here, imploring you care very deeply about her slightly bent diary entries. Take the pluck from the best couple tracks of quintet's nice debut, "Cuts Across the Land," and imagine that over a full album, and you have a band U.S. audiences ought to heed. The Duke Spirit haven't had much luck in America, but a strong tour and a little support for "Neptune" (which was recorded in Joshua Tree) could change that.

||| Live: The Duke Spirit play the Echo on March 5.

||| Stream the album here.

Watch: Video for "The Step and the Walk":

The Raveonettes, "Lust, Lust, Lust" (Feb. 19, Vice; Nov. 12, 2007, in the U.K.): It's as if everything Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo tried to align on their first to albums has suddenly coalesced. Fuzzy, dark, simmering, shimmering and nodding to decades-ago girl groups and surf guitar outfits, "Lust(x3)" is like a churning ocean in the waning light. When they played as a duo last summer at the Little Radio warehouse downtown, I had no inkling some these songs would end up so fully formed.

||| Live: The Raveonettes have dates March 1 at the Glass House, March 2 at the Detroit Bar and March 4 at the El Rey Theatre.

||| Download: "Dead Sound."

British Sea Power, "Do You Like Rock Music?" (Feb. 12, Rough Trade): You hear the Brighton quartet wrestling with the big issues on this album, and the title's question feels almost like a challenge. Listening is like riding a beast; BSP's unvarnished, delightfully meandering anthems sound larger than life. Bring on foliage and military uniforms, lads, we're prepared to salute.

||| Live: British Sea Power plays Feb. 27 at the Echo and Feb. 28 at Spaceland.

"No Lucifer" by British Sea Power

[One in a series on new music by L.A. artists ...]

"Staring at Yourself," the second EP from L.A. seven-piece I Make This Sound, doesn't leave you much time for navel-gazing. Rich with vivid imagery and lush, playful arrangements, Jonathan Price and his piano-man voice lead you through all manner of intrigue and orchestral derring-do; sometimes it feel like the band is packing 10-minute epics into four minutes. Like on "One, Two, Three!" -- one moment you're seduced by a tinkling piano, the next you're bopping to girl-group backing vocals, and the next you're going 100 mph on a guitar riff. A nice ride.

||| Download: "The King and Queen."

On their "Eat Your Heart Out" EP, L.A. quintet the Breakups go easy on everything -- the jangly guitars, the twinkling keys, the harmonies. Easy-does-it, however, does not equal easy listening. The ebb and flow of the six-song effort and the wry nuances of numbers like "Tissue Sample" and "After the Fact" make this a nifty record that glances back at power pop's '70s heyday but reminds you more of the likes of Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and (vocally) Michael Penn.

||| Download: "After the Fact."

||| Live: I Make This Sound and the Breakups celebrate their EP releases tonight at the Echo, supported by Amateurs and Le Switch.

Photos: the Breakups by Denver Mark Bon, I Make This Sound by Rebecca Sanabria

Highlights for Wednesday, Feb. 13

The Weather Underground, with A For Attack and Free Moral Agents supporting, continues its residency at the Silverlake Lounge. .... Captain Automatic plays downtown at Bordello. ... Andre Williams and the Flash Express bring the party to Club NME at Spaceland. ... And Brian Wright & the Waco Tragedies and Ferraby Lionheart are on the bill at the Hotel Cafe.

Meet Kárin Tatoyan. She's the one who started her set Monday night at Spaceland on her knees, not so much launching into song as breaking into an incantation. Who jammed virtually breathlessly for the first 10 minutes, teetering between hysteria and rapture. Who commanded your attention despite the fact the faces of her otherwise nattily attired sidemen were streaked with glitter paint. Who had you believing, straightaway.

Think of Tatoyan as a baroque Bjork. If her haunting vocals don't dazzle you, her odd music will -- counterposing, as it does, weird electronics, sound effects and loops with the very organic tones of a French horn and cello. Seeing her is like watching an Escher come to life. Almost-mathematical repetition gives way to chaos; melodies build and build yet resist payoff, like stairways to nowhere. On Monday, she started one number with an innocent comment that rang fairly large: "I'm gonna make a new sound." (It referred to a noise she was trying to loop.)

Her opening set for the Pity Party's residency was only the 10th live performance for Tatoyan, a 24-year-old of Syrian-Armenian descent who studied experimental music at Mills College. It was as distinctive (and almost improvisational) as anything you'll see in an L.A. club. She has only one DIY release, "The History of Stains" EP (which sounds a bit restrained compared to the stage show), but there are some labels snooping around. Stay tuned.

||| Download: "Fit In."

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

Highlights for Tuesday, Feb. 12

Low Vs Diamond checks in at the Viper Room. ... She's Your Sister plays the Silverlake Lounge. ... It's Aushua and Moris Tepper at the Echo, and Talkdemonic at Spaceland. ... And in the Alterknit Lounge at the Knitting Factory, Ride on Rides performs.

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

◊ ◊ ◊

My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

◊ ◊ ◊

Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

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Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Ears Wide Open: I Make This Sound, the Breakups

[One in a series on new music by L.A. artists ...]

"Staring at Yourself," the second EP from L.A. seven-piece I Make This Sound, doesn't leave you much time for navel-gazing. Rich with vivid imagery and lush, playful arrangements, Jonathan Price and his piano-man voice lead you through all manner of intrigue and orchestral derring-do; sometimes it feel like the band is packing 10-minute epics into four minutes. Like on "One, Two, Three!" -- one moment you're seduced by a tinkling piano, the next you're bopping to girl-group backing vocals, and the next you're going 100 mph on a guitar riff. A nice ride.

||| Download: "The King and Queen."

On their "Eat Your Heart Out" EP, L.A. quintet the Breakups go easy on everything -- the jangly guitars, the twinkling keys, the harmonies. Easy-does-it, however, does not equal easy listening. The ebb and flow of the six-song effort and the wry nuances of numbers like "Tissue Sample" and "After the Fact" make this a nifty record that glances back at power pop's '70s heyday but reminds you more of the likes of Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and (vocally) Michael Penn.

||| Download: "After the Fact."

||| Live: I Make This Sound and the Breakups celebrate their EP releases tonight at the Echo, supported by Amateurs and Le Switch.

Photos: the Breakups by Denver Mark Bon, I Make This Sound by Rebecca Sanabria

Highlights for Wednesday, Feb. 13

The Weather Underground, with A For Attack and Free Moral Agents supporting, continues its residency at the Silverlake Lounge. .... Captain Automatic plays downtown at Bordello. ... Andre Williams and the Flash Express bring the party to Club NME at Spaceland. ... And Brian Wright & the Waco Tragedies and Ferraby Lionheart are on the bill at the Hotel Cafe.

Meet Kárin Tatoyan. She's the one who started her set Monday night at Spaceland on her knees, not so much launching into song as breaking into an incantation. Who jammed virtually breathlessly for the first 10 minutes, teetering between hysteria and rapture. Who commanded your attention despite the fact the faces of her otherwise nattily attired sidemen were streaked with glitter paint. Who had you believing, straightaway.

Think of Tatoyan as a baroque Bjork. If her haunting vocals don't dazzle you, her odd music will -- counterposing, as it does, weird electronics, sound effects and loops with the very organic tones of a French horn and cello. Seeing her is like watching an Escher come to life. Almost-mathematical repetition gives way to chaos; melodies build and build yet resist payoff, like stairways to nowhere. On Monday, she started one number with an innocent comment that rang fairly large: "I'm gonna make a new sound." (It referred to a noise she was trying to loop.)

Her opening set for the Pity Party's residency was only the 10th live performance for Tatoyan, a 24-year-old of Syrian-Armenian descent who studied experimental music at Mills College. It was as distinctive (and almost improvisational) as anything you'll see in an L.A. club. She has only one DIY release, "The History of Stains" EP (which sounds a bit restrained compared to the stage show), but there are some labels snooping around. Stay tuned.

||| Download: "Fit In."

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

Highlights for Tuesday, Feb. 12

Low Vs Diamond checks in at the Viper Room. ... She's Your Sister plays the Silverlake Lounge. ... It's Aushua and Moris Tepper at the Echo, and Talkdemonic at Spaceland. ... And in the Alterknit Lounge at the Knitting Factory, Ride on Rides performs.

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

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My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

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Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Kárin Tatoyan reaches for a new sound

Meet Kárin Tatoyan. She's the one who started her set Monday night at Spaceland on her knees, not so much launching into song as breaking into an incantation. Who jammed virtually breathlessly for the first 10 minutes, teetering between hysteria and rapture. Who commanded your attention despite the fact the faces of her otherwise nattily attired sidemen were streaked with glitter paint. Who had you believing, straightaway.

Think of Tatoyan as a baroque Bjork. If her haunting vocals don't dazzle you, her odd music will -- counterposing, as it does, weird electronics, sound effects and loops with the very organic tones of a French horn and cello. Seeing her is like watching an Escher come to life. Almost-mathematical repetition gives way to chaos; melodies build and build yet resist payoff, like stairways to nowhere. On Monday, she started one number with an innocent comment that rang fairly large: "I'm gonna make a new sound." (It referred to a noise she was trying to loop.)

Her opening set for the Pity Party's residency was only the 10th live performance for Tatoyan, a 24-year-old of Syrian-Armenian descent who studied experimental music at Mills College. It was as distinctive (and almost improvisational) as anything you'll see in an L.A. club. She has only one DIY release, "The History of Stains" EP (which sounds a bit restrained compared to the stage show), but there are some labels snooping around. Stay tuned.

||| Download: "Fit In."

Photo by Kevin Bronson / LAT

Highlights for Tuesday, Feb. 12

Low Vs Diamond checks in at the Viper Room. ... She's Your Sister plays the Silverlake Lounge. ... It's Aushua and Moris Tepper at the Echo, and Talkdemonic at Spaceland. ... And in the Alterknit Lounge at the Knitting Factory, Ride on Rides performs.

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

◊ ◊ ◊

My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

◊ ◊ ◊

Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Weekend report: the non-Grammy edition

The weekend seemed to be all about glitz, glamour and Grammy, but not in the middle of the black-clad, dancing throng Saturday night at the Wiltern, or among the bouncing youngsters Friday at the Echo, or among the sweaty, swaying masses who packed the Echoplex on Friday. With so many good bands visiting from across the pond, it made sense to get out -- at least more sense than it made to give a best new artist award to somebody for her sophomore album.

Editors' set on Saturday at the Wiltern was surprising, darned-near transcendant. The bill offered an interesting triage of mid-level bands -- San Diego's Stonesy Louis IV and synth-rocking Canadians Hot Hot Heat joined the Birmingham, England, quartet in packing the theater. If the music wasn't diverse enough, the disparity among the bill's lead vocalists was: Even toned down from the band's early days, Louis XIV's Jason Hill affects a pretty effective Bon Scott; Hot Hot Heat's Steve Bays is nervous and yelpy, though not so much since his quartet became a radio band; and Editors' Tom Smith can fill any room with his stentorian boom.

Smith carried the night, ricocheting around the stage to a nifty light show as his band's songs pogoed between gloom and hope. Ian Curtis, two points ahead in his battle with the demons.

While Hot Hot Heat did little better than fashion a live approximation of its radio hits, Louis XIV offered some surprises of its own. With its sophomore album, "Slick Dogs and Ponies," the quartet has graduated from its glam-garage origins ... I mean, string players? Even with Hill having equipment troubles Saturday, the set approached arena rock-like territory, with more hits (the new track "Guilt by Association" and the band's new take on its radio hit, "Finding Out True Love Is Blind") than misses (the too-close-to-Bowie new song "Air Traffic Control.")

Friday night in Echo Park offered some contrasts as well -- the fresh-faced pop of the Kooks (and the even-fresher-faced openers the Morning Benders) upstairs at the Echo (average crowd age: 25), and the jammy psych-rock of Welsh veterans Super Furry Animals downstairs in the Echoplex (average crowd age: 35).

Even given the venue's terrible sightlines, the Super Furries' show was satisfactorily sweaty, the quintet jamming long into the night. The Kooks, playing the second of two sold-out club shows (they will likely be at the Wiltern their next time through L.A.), connected quickly with their youthful crowd, and the Morning Benders -- the release of their debut still three months away -- showed that their frisky Fab Four-isms pack a lot of punch.

Photo of Editors' Tom Smith courtesy of Timothy Norris

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

◊ ◊ ◊

My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

◊ ◊ ◊

Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

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Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Katy Perry wins over Viper Room crowd

Call me overly starched, but I tend to distrust girls who stick their tongues out at me, write things like "Ur So Gay" and have a handbag full of A-list producers for their music. We need another manufactured pop diva like the Hotel Cafe needs another singer-songwriter.

That said, it was impossible to deny the charisma and chops of L.A.-based Katy Perry on Thursday night at a very packed Viper Room. A musical diarist in the vein of January's diva-of-the-month, Kate Nash, Perry infuses her boyfriend-bending pop with plenty of bite and, for her age (22), a healthy dose of self-awareness. The Santa Barbara native will have a lot of appeal among the teen masses -- and maybe among those whose attention spans run longer than your average text message.

She'll be on the Warped Tour this summer (hmm, there goes the "punk") and her debut album is due on Capitol on June 10. Color me curious to have a listen.

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My spies Thursday at the Troubadour have stoked my anticipation for tonight's Kooks show at the Echo. In the first night of their two-show L.A. stand, the British quartet played a set that was about two-thirds material off their catchy debut "Inside In/Inside Out" and about one-third songs off their forthcoming "Konk" (due April 15). Front man Luke Pritchard was happily unhinged, channeling (as he is wont to do) his pop Mick Jagger.

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Earlier Thursday, Ironworks Music -- the label founded by Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole -- showcased its artists to a full house at the Roxy. Teenager rockers Billy Boy on Poison started the night with a muscular set, and headliner Rocco Deluca ended the evening with a jammy, incense-laden performance that included a cameo from Daniel Lanois.

The middle set was an eye- (and ear-) opener. It featured new signees Honeyhoney, a collaboration between guitarist Ben Jaffe and singer/fiddler/banjoist Suzanne Santo that expands to a quartet for their live shows. Honeyhoney's set (and its forthcoming debut EP "Loose Boots") featured folk rock with whole spice rack emptied in -- you weren't sure whether it was mountain music or carnival music at some points. But Santo's voice, the fun arrangements and interesting instrumentation (was that banjo/electric guitar/synth on one song?) made it very compelling. More on these folks later.

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

The Bravery break in downtown's Crash Mansion

You could balance all of the Bravery's critical mass on a guitar pick, but the New York City quintet's fashion rock is all over the radio, and the band is adept at replicating those hits in a concert setting. They did Saturday night in a manner that set the tone for the whole evening -- tight, energetic and professional.

The occasion was the grand-opening bash for downtown's Crash Mansion, a seemingly nondescript brick box of a building at Grand and Olympic that has been dressed up just enough that it could become a player on the local concert scene. The Bravery, in the middle of a sold-out tour, packed the place, with support from two British up-and-comers, the impressive Your Vegas and the not-so-impressive Switches. Your Vegas (album coming on Universal) makes anthemic rock that rises above the pedestrian thanks to Coyle Girelli's soaring vocals. Switches (album coming on Interscope) never rise above hodge-podge.

As for the venue ... tight, energetic, professional. The main room, its walls decorated by vintage murals, seems to be almost square, but makes for nice space thanks to the booths on its flanks. The sound was almost as good on the fringes of the room as it was in the center (but decidedly murky from the VIP mezzanine or underneath the mezzanine's overhang). A second club in a separate room figures to play host to Silverlake Lounge-sized shows. Overall, it's an easy club to negotiate, and you won't have many complaints if you avoid the expensive parking lots ($15 adjacent to the club, $10 across the street, $3 to $4 lots within two blocks; I found free street parking less than three blocks away) and don't mind a slightly claustrophobic men's room.

Bring on the music.

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Incoming: Louis XIV, Dengue Fever, Chris Walla

[Short takes on new albums:]

 

Louis XIV, "Slick Dogs and Ponies" (out today, Atlantic): Clever boys, these Louis XIV lads. You wanted to write them off as one-note eyeliner rock after "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," but their sophomore album won't let you. It's every bit as gleefully indulgent -- nicking T. Rex, Bowie and a handful of other glammy bands that actually were British and didn't just adopt the accent from, er, the San Diego district of London -- but it covers much more sonic geography, and with witty lyrics to boot.

||| Live: Louis IV play Feb. 9 at the Wiltern and Feb. 10 at the House of Blues Anaheim.

||| Watch the slightly creepy video for "Guilt by Association." Hey, is that the Playboy Mansion?

Dengue Fever, "Venus on Earth" (Jan. 22, M80): It's never about getting your brain around the groundbreaking Cambodian psych-pop band's music -- most of songwriter Zac Holtzman's numbers feature Chhom Nimol singing in her native Khmer. It's about opening your ears to exotic (and exotic combinations of) sounds; on this more English-heavy third album, the vibe is at turns seductive, celebratory, cinematic and wistful, and never lost in the translation.

||| Live: Dengue Fever celebrates its album release with a show Thursday at the Echoplex.

||| Download: "Sober Driver"

Chris Walla, "Field Manual" (today, Barsuk): Much respect for Walla as a force behind Death Cab for Cutie,  and as a producer, but I found little on the pallid "Field Manual" to guide me.

||| Download: "Sing Again"

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Radar Bros.' finale turns into an all-star night

Happy triumphed over sad on a wintry Monday night at the Echo, but not by much. The final night of the Radar Bros.' residency had the feel of a plot point in which an epic movie loses a beloved character, only to have fortune smile on another.

The occasion was the record release show for the Radar Bros.' new "Auditorium" -- and at the same time, bizarrely, a farewell show (at least for a while) for the veteran band in its current incarnation. With many of his players moving on to other projects, frontman Jim Putnam, a father figure to many in the Silver Lake/Echo Park music vortex, gave a stoic and sublimely beautiful performance to a crowd dotted with indie rockers old and young. Among them, even, was a promoter who remembered doing a flyer for a Radar Bros. show before Spaceland opened.

Yes, kids, there was a such a time.

A sing-along with friends, girlfriends and guest musicians capped the set, before the crowd graciously demanded and received two encores. You'd think somebody might have gotten a little misty-eyed, but, no, 15 minutes later there was Putnam back onstage, standing in with post-headliner band Adeline.

Earlier, the crowd got a good-natured acoustic set from Silversun Pickups frontman Brian Aubert (joined briefly by bandmate Nikki Monninger) that included covers of songs by the Movies, Joy Division and Bjork.

But the room was almost full for the night's opener, Everest, and with good reason. The fivesome of local players with distinguished indie resumes played a powerul and poignant set of rock-Americana as they continue to work toward their album release on Neil Young's Vapor Records in April.

This past week did nothing to slow their momentum. En route to a gig at the Sundance Film Festival, guitarist Joel Graves won enough money at a Mesquite, Nev., casino to pay for the band's rooms. Then, at the festival, Young himself took in a show.

Not that playing in front of his idol fazed frontman Russell Pollard. "Before the show, somebody told us he was in the audience and my face turned white," Pollard says. "So I went out and said hello and thanked him for coming. Two songs into the show I spotted him bobbing his head ... It was the most epic moment of my life."

Young liked what Everest was doing, his manager Elliot Roberts later reported. So did the folks Monday at the Echo.

I suggest catching them before they outgrow venues this size. [Next gig: Feb. 19 at a Radio Free Silver Lake showcase at Boardner's in Hollywood.]

Photos, from top: Friends join Jim Putnam (left) for a sing-along during the Radar Bros.' finale; Nikki Monninger and Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups cover the Movies' "Creation Lake"; and Everest's Russell Pollard performs. By Kevin Bronson / LAT

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

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Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

BRMC's show: a little short, but sweet

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club played to a second consecutive sold-out club on Friday night (the band filled the Key Club on Thursday) and delivered some hazy-great psychedelia to an adoring crowd at Safari Sam's. The trio mixed full-on shoegazer stylings with solo turns by Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes, but just about when they hit the 90-minute mark, the Los Angeles Fire Dept. arrived and cleared the venue.

I've seen much more congested clubs in recent months -- some, I thought, that at moments were about one idiot shy of a tragedy. Sam's security, at least, kept clear walkways around the perimeter of the crowd, and to the bar and restrooms. But the LAFD has a job to do.

The set was just two songs away from its conclusion, and in the crowd outside the club afterwards I didn't hear anybody griping they didn't get their money's worth.

Oh, and the early arrivals were rewarded with another great set by Spindrift.

Highlights for tonight, Jan. 26

The Echoplex ought to be filled tonight for the Yeasayer / MGMT show; big buzz on both acts. ... And there's a nice charity show at Pehrspace that is serving as the EP release party for Angela Correa's Correatown.

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

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Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Glacier Hiking, something to shout about

[Club-hopping on a Thursday night ...]

It's been a year and a half, give or take, that Ross Golan and Tommy Walter have been playing as Glacier Hiking, and the duo's wise-guy, electro-charged anthems sound better every show. The duo would no doubt pack more punch as a full band -- currently Golan sings while Walter plays guitar and triggers myriad samples and beats -- but there's no denying Golan's shout-along choruses.

They were particularly celebratory on Thursday night at the Roxy, having reached a publishing deal with Lionsgate Music earlier in the day. Arms were waved, fists pumped, ironic F-bombs were dropped, lyrics were crooned -- and that was just the audience. Some sort of album release -- digitial maybe? -- would certainly be welcome.

Earlier in the evening, with two-thirds of the band under the weather, glammy trio A.i. played its synthed-up rock to a modest crowd of folks who like that sort of thing, including model types with positively mystifyingly long hair. Front man Nick Young, taking advantage of his wireless mic and guitar, shimmied in front of the stage with an admirer. A fitting scene for a band whose album is titled "Sex & Robots."

Later, down rain-soaked Sunset Boulevard, ex-Catherine Wheel front man Rob Dickinson gave his solo songs -- and some choice numbers by his old band -- an acoustic workout at a packed Viper Room. It's a bit surreal to see a man who, as he said, "was once surrounded by a wall of Marshall amplification" play balladeer. "That's all gone now," he said matter-of-factly. But he does make a convincing troubadour. Plus, the '90s anthem "Black Metallic" never grows old, and it took on a slightly new life when rendered with acoustic guitars and cello.

Quite a night. Scouts told me that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club delivered a powerful wall-of-sound show at the sold-out Key Club, that the debut of indie-rock at the Orange County Performing Artcenter's Samueli Theatre was great (more fans for Sea Wolf than Peter Bjorn and John, though) and that the Airborne Toxic Event residency at Spaceland was at capacity for the third straight week. Oh, to be in three places at once ...

Highlights for Friday, Jan. 25

Tough choice for show-goers tonight too: Jason Isbell plays an Aquarium Drunkard-sponsored show at Spaceland. ... BRMC follows up its Key Club show with one at Safari Sam's. ... Au Revoir Simone, with Karin Tatoyan supporting, headlines the Troubadour, while Jim Ward (Sparta/At the Drive-In) and Nico Stai play 7 and 10 p.m. shows at the Paul Gleason Theatre (6520 Hollywood Blvd.). ... Pigeon John, backed by a full band, holds forth at El Cid. ... Lemon Sun and Astra Heights bring their catchy pop-rock to Club Underground at the Echo. ... Seneca Hawk plays the Derby. ... And Steve Poltz celebrates the release of his latest, "Traveling," at the Mint.

Photos: Ross Golan of Glacier Hiking (top) and Nick Young of A.i. (inset)

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

The Teenagers upstaged by ... teenagers

The Teenagers, a trio of smirky Parisians whose ranks swelled to five to tour behind their clever dance-pop, arrived at the Echo on Tuesday night riding a wave of Internet buzz and perhaps a bit of an endorphine rush, this being their first Los Angeles show and all.

The party never quite materialized, despite a Cinespace-like atmosphere that seemed at times earlier in the evening about two energy drinks short of bedlam. The young crowd, many versed in the band's MySpace offerings, got its share of wry lyrics, jaunty stage moves and cute accents but was never quite won over -- owing either 1) to the Teenagers' sense of golly-gee-whiz (frontman Quentin Delafon confessed that seeing the Hollywood sign earlier in the day, er, affected his manhood), or 2) their rhythm section seemed to be running from a different playbook.

Maybe they will step it up before tonight's show at Club NME at Spaceland (and they'd certainly better before their gig at Coachella in April), but on Tuesday the night belonged to Funeral Party, a quintet of electro-charged youngsters from East L.A./Whittier. At moments recalling the dance-punk revivalism of early Moving Units and the Rapture and at others bouncing along to a skittish cowbell like LCD Soundsystem, Funeral Party and singer Chad Elliott worked hard to charm the early arrivals, and did.

They didn't even need the cute accents.

Photos: The Teenagers (top) by Leah Hennessy; Funeral Party's Chad Eliott by Kevin Bronson

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

They're not sure they want to be Adored

If the Adored's energetic late set at Spaceland on Thursday wasn't quite as explosive as many in the garage-rockers' memorable past, you could understand. These dudes had a lousy 2007: V2, the label for which they released "A New Language" in July 2006, folded; and he band parted ways with lead singer Ryan George.

On Thursday, playing as a three-piece, they certainly looked as if they were off to a happier new year, with guitarist Drew Seventeen having taken over lead vocal duties as well. But the trio clearly seems to be a band at a crossroads. Rumor is that Seventeen and mates Max Humphrey and Nat Keefer have a side project in the works, but in an email today Seventeen says the band is too uncertain about its musical future right now "to go on the record about anything."

Stay tuned.

Highlights for the weekend, Jan. 18-19-20

First, two book events of note: Authors Suzy Shaw and Mick Farren will sign copies of "BOMP! Saving the World One Record at a Time," which chronicles Greg Shaw's legendary fanzine and label "BOMP!" Joe and Mike Nolte of the Last will perform at the signing, which runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at La Luz de Jesus Gallery. ... And at 2 p.m. Sunday, Orange County-based John Borack will sign "Shake Some Action: The Ultimate Power Pop Guide" (a compendium of the best power-pop albums of all time, with interviews, photos and other artifacts), at Freakbeat Records in Sherman Oaks.

Now for the shows: Chromeo's gig tonight at the El Rey is sold out; over at Safari Sam's, there's a deep lineup that begins at 8 p.m. with a set from New York City kid band (they're 12, 12 and 13, respectively) Care Bears on Fire. ... Psychedelia in two places: Xu Xu Fang and others play Bordello, and the Quarter After and the Stevenson Ranch Davidians head up a nice lineup at Spaceland. ... On Saturday, while the Cool Kids are entertaining at the Echoplex, Oliver Future and Casxio. ... And on Sunday, it's Om at the Echoplex, Jeremy Enigk at the Troubadour and Benji Hughes at Tangier.

Photo of the Adored by Kevin Bronson / LAT

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

The Procession plays its smile-along power pop

With the exception of folks like Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf and a few other people who will forever remain near and dear to our ears, power pop went out of fashion when the Posies lost a secret arm-wrestling match with Nirvana in the early 1990s. Oh, purveyors of those '60s and '70s sounds crop up now and again, especially locally, but they never gain much traction.

If a similar fate awaits the Procession, you'd never know it from Wednesday night's set in front of a small but appeciative crowd at Spaceland. There was a quartet, helmed by two guys named John and Paul, who told the sound guy, "just mix us old-school, like the Beatles."

The mix was pretty perfect, like the vocals from Procession principals J. Paul Zawacki and John Schreffler. The Detroit expats, now residing in Atwater Village, proved they could not only sing, but harmonize too, and the smiles on their faces were as contagious as their big melodies. Their tightly played tunes had a joie-de-pop that needed none of the accouterments bands often bring along with their three-chord splendor -- forced theatricality, or band "uniforms."

"We do what we do," Zawacki said afterward.

I will admit to having overlooked the band's album, the crunchy-sweet "Musique Magnifique," when it arrived last year. A couple spins this morning have made me glad I got a second chance.

||| Stream "Don't Le Go" and "Major and Minor" here.

Photo by Elle Rese

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 17

Sold out last week, the Airborne Toxic Event's residency continues at Spaceland, with Sunday Drivers, Bloodcat Love and the Adored. ... Get Set Go brings its power pop-with-teeth to the front room at the Knitting Factory. ... Hip-hop phenom Lupe Fiasco holds forth at the House of Blues Sunset Strip, while Twista is down the street at the Key Club. ... Hurt brings its power rock to Safari Sam's. ... And it's Young Heart Attack at the Echo, Meho Plaza at the Smell and Priscilla Ahn at the Hotel Cafe.

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Incoming: The Whigs, Vampire Weekend, Sons & Daughters

Second in a series of quick impressions of albums I recently dug out of my mail bin, based on only a couple spins.

 
The Whigs, "Mission Control" (Jan. 22, ATO Records): You like this album the same way you like a fellow who is just drunk enough so that he tells you nothing but the truth. The boozy garage rock from these Athenians gets no points for inventiveness, but I'm giving them a lifetime hall pass for nicking Dinosaur Jr. Drink up.

||| Download: "Right Hand on My Heart."

Vampire Weekend, "Vampire Weekend" (Jan. 29, XL): Afro-rhythms get indie kids all atwitter, I guess, but this album (starkly reminiscent in places of the Little Ones' "Sing Song" EP) has a winsome and decidedly college-educated charm. Note to self: Ignore the buzz and its backlash, and just listen to the music.

||| Download: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa."

Sons & Daughters, "This Gift" (Jan. 29, Domino): Hearing the newest from these Glaswegians, I want to roll up all the lightweight pop songstresses from the U.K. and boot them back across the Atlantic.

Here's the video for Sons & Daughters' new single, "Gilt Complex:"

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Incoming: The Helio Sequence, Nada Surf, Mia Doi Todd

Note: When I launched this blog a year ago, I suffered from the delusion I'd have time to do good old-fashioned album reviews around the time of their release. Fat chance. Time constraints prevented me from doing those justice. So this year, I'm going to try a series called "Incoming" -- quick first impressions, in 50 or fewer words, of albums as soon as they reach my desk. Don't hold me to any of this:

The Helio Sequence, "Keep Your Eyes Ahead"  (Jan. 29, Sub Pop):  Call it new year's euphoria, or the rashness of youth (ahem), but I could be revisiting these Portlanders in 11 months for album-of-the-year consideration. Reminds me of James at times. Brilliant electro-shoegaze, coupled with nifty songcraft.

||| Download: "Keep Your Eyes Ahead."

Nada Surf, "Lucky" (Feb. 5, Barsuk): Fifth album, third for this label, and you could spend a lot more on anti-depressants and get fewer results. Matthew Caws' vocals continue to be a hedge against ... to invent a word, bummerdom.

||| Download: "See These Bones."

Mia Doi Todd, "Gea" (March 4, City Zen Records): Why isn't this L.A. singer-songwriter massive? Maybe it's because the Ivy League-educated painter/dancer/poet/songstress doesn't dumb it down. As precise and heady as her seventh album is, it also suffers a hauteur that might keep it from its appointed destination, the heart.

||| Watch the video for "Night of a Thousand Kisses."

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

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A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

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Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

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More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

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Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Taylor gets '08 off to a tuneful start

Maria Taylor needed a bigger room Wednesday night. Patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder in the cozy back room at Tangier to catch a set from the 32-year-old songstress, one-half of Azure Ray. [Our favorite fan was Lucinda Williams, who at the offer of special consideration from the promoter, declared: "I don't want to be on the guest list -- I want to support the artists."]

Williams and everybody else who ponied up the $10 cover were rewarded with a warm-and-fuzzy set that included material off Taylor's second solo album, "Lynn Teeter Flower," released last March. Taylor's willowy vocals and smart lyrics obviously have their fans; this show was booked less than two weeks in advance, and the room was nigh full when up-and-coming L.A. singer-songwriter Robert Francis played his 9 p.m. set. Performing with five backing musicians he called the Small Town Talk, Francis (newly managed by heavy hitter Bill Silva) wrestled with a difficult mix, but his material, especially the title track from his debut, "One by One," still shined.

A nice start to 2008.

||| Download Taylor's "A Good Start" from her MySpace page.

◊ ◊ ◊

A heads-up, in case you haven't seen the notices: Indie rock is coming to the Orange County Performing Artscenter. (Pardon the link, OCPAC has a MySpace page.) Nice lineup too -- Peter Bjorn and John and Sea Wolf on Jan. 24; the Walkmen and the Delta Spirit on Feb. 28; and local heroes the cold War Kids on March 27. The shows will be in the 500-seat Samueli Theater as part of OCPAC's Off Center series. They aren't cheap tickets (for instance, it's $30 to $60 for PBJ/Sea Wolf and $20 to $40 for the Walkmen/Delta Spirit), but then again, these are quality bands playing nice digs. Should be interesting to see how the monthly series (which continues through June) flies.

◊ ◊ ◊

Highlights for Thursday, Jan. 3

This just in -- the show at Pershing Square tonight has been canceled due to threatening weather.

You can warm up (or cool down) for a night of club-going by hitting downtown's Pershing Square at 8 -- the Mezzanine Owls will perform at the temporary ice skating rink there. ... Their debut album almost finished, local quintet the Airborne Toxic Event kicks off a Thursday night residency at Spaceland with support from, among others, up-and-coming quartet the Henry Clay People. ... Over at the Echo, there's a big, free (if you're over 21) show with Light FM, among others. ... The Bowmans start a Thursday night residency at the Hotel Cafe -- the always-great Patrick Park is playing tonight. ... The Mae Shi play tonight in the series of shows celebrating the Smell's 10-year anniversary. ... And young Orange Countians the Jakes play early at the Roxy.

Photo: Saddle Creek Records

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Godrich joins Beck onstage at Echoplex tuneup show

[Correspondent Jeff Miller reports from the Sunday night festivities at the Echoplex:]

Beck -- the Silver Lake icon whose recent tours have found him banging out drum parts on a kitchen table and dancing along with a puppet version of himself -- isn't exactly predictable. One thing for sure, though: Before embarking on a tour with a new band, he'll give them a test run in front of a smallish sea of rabid fans at a local venue, rather than testing their might in a packed arena.

Such was the impetus for his last-minute, back-to-basics show at the Echoplex on Sunday night -- a warmup for a short international stadium stint opening for the Police. Beck ditched his recent shtick for a guitar-based set that spanned his career, backed by a band that may be the best he's found yet: on-again, off-again collaborators Justin Meldal-Johnsen and Joey Waronker on bass and drums, respectively; singer-songwriter Jason Falkner picking up guitar duties; and, on keys, producer/legend Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Beck, Travis, among others).

Beck claimed this show was Godrich's U.S. stage debut, and, per his repuation, Godrich added electronic whooshes and keyboard fills to everything from the "Mellow Gold"-era album cut "[Messin'] With My Head" to recent hits like "Nausea."  When the front man eschewed an encore, insisting the band had played all the songs it knew, Meldal-Johnsen showed them the chords to "Odelay's" "Lord Only Knows." Once they tore into it, the results were shambolic and loose -- perhaps not quite stadium-ready, but certainly a ramshackle fit for an audience rabidly hanging on every chord.

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Minipop delivers the maximum at Spaceland

Maybe it's just residual bliss, but Minipop's set Sunday night at Spaceland echoes off the cobwebbed recesses of my brain this morning like the delay on singer Tricia Kanne's vocals.

The San Francisco quartet, which released its debut album "A New Hope" (Take Root Records) last week, was opening for local shoegazers Eskimohunter and indie heroes Cursive. But it was as good a 9 o'clock set as you'll see at the Silver Lake club, the two-woman, two-man ensemble layering thick bass, driving guitars and keening synths as a foundation for Kanne's celestial vocals. It was gorgeous stuff; U.K. dream-pop bands from the '90s and before, such as Lush, Heavenly and the Darling Buds, particularly this song, come to mind.

Yes, it's a sound many have tried, but Minipop makes it work with savvy pop songwriting and onstage confidence (many a purveyor of this kind of music comes off precious), and on "A New Hope" Minipop's dream-pop sounds as fresh as ever thanks to the production work of Chris Manning (once a member of Jellyfish).

The band has no further L.A. dates planned until the new year.

Photo of Tricia Kanne by Kevin Bronson / LAT

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

The Jealous Girlfriends storm in from Brooklyn

The Jealous Girlfriends played their first Los Angeles show on Thursday night, and it made me, well, a bit jealous I hadn't seen the Brooklyn quartet before. They're a little bit Sonic Youth, a little bit Blonde Redhead and a little bit synth-crazy, wrapping up their minor-chord melancholy in restless and arresting arrangements that make front woman Holly Miranda's torch-singer vocals sound even more startling.

Miranda could do nicely with just a piano and a microphone, but guitar in hand she proved herself more than capable of both art-rock riffage and laying down bristling sheens of distortion. Seeing the band a first time, you never quite knew what was coming next. But you never wanted to avert your eyes or ears for very long.

Just signed to wee Canadian imprint Good Fences, the Jealous Girlfriends will release their debut early next year -- but you can get a self-released copy at their next show, Monday night at the Silverlake Lounge.

||| Download: "Machines."

Photo of Alex Lipsen and Holly Miranda by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

Here's the video for the band's probably most straight-ahead number, "How Now" (from 2005), featuring guitarist Josh Abbott on vocals:

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

The Orange Lights flicker in L.A. debut

[The following observations come without any live photographs -- a certain Sunset Strip booze dispensary, ostensibly feeling that expensive parking, overpriced drinks and positively cheerless bartenders are not inhospitable enough, having dispatched a beefy man into the crowd to ask that patrons put away their digital cameras. I mean, c'mon ...]

The Orange Lights swooped into the Viper Room on Tuesday, six weeks late because of a strange injury sustained by bassist Chris Gittins in London in September, wearing black and administering ballads as if they were Band-Aids for our emotional abrasions. Recommended if you like Travis, the Verve, Snow Patrol and Nic Harcourt, the Newcastle quintet follows the Britpop instruction manual to the letter, fashioning hopeful songs from mournful melodies and, regrettably, holding to one passionate note so long as to Blunt its messages.

Frontman (and former Spiritualized touring guitarist) Jason Hart sells gorgeous tunes such as "Life Is Still Beautiful" and "Let the Love In" for all they're worth, but the Orange Lights' body of work gives them little in the way of context. Once the novelty of a singer enunciating "loss-ahnn-jell-eeze" wears off, there's not enough for the breadbasket, at least not until the Orange Lights ignite a couple of rock songs.

◊ ◊ ◊

More on opening act Ride on Rides at a later date, but my first impression is that the local quartet seems more wrapped up in rock-star aspirations than in channeling emotions through their tuneful, likable pop. Reminiscent of indie-poppers Voxtrot, a very good thing, and worth revisiting.

◊ ◊ ◊

Down the street at the Key Club, Teaneck hammered out its catchy power pop to a meager crowd at the all-ages Ruby night. Fun stuff -- imagine Weezer if they were dressed to play touch football.

Highlights for Wednesday, Nov. 7

The Thrills are back for the first time in, well, a long time. "Teenager" (produced by Tony Hoffer) is their first album in three years, and it's more rooted in California than it is the quintet's native Ireland. Good for the mood; the band plays Club NME at Spaceland tonight. ... The Hold Steady / Art Brut two-pronged attack visits the Music Box @ Fonda, with locals the Blood Arm opening. ... Sabrosa Purr and the Blakes play Filter's Revenge of the Sunset Strip night at the Roxy. ... And some nice locals: Exitmusic at Tangier; Policy at Boardner's; and the Action Design at Safari Sam's.

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

A-Trak plays the right tracks at Roxy's party

[Colleague Liam Gowing reports from Saturday night's show at the Roxy:]

Packed to the proverbial gills with teensters, most of whom seemed to be hovering around the lower end of the 18-year-old age restriction, the Roxy was one big, sloppy, sweaty party Saturday night, with all possible credit going to A-Trak, the 25-year-old Montreal native who is Kanye West's DJ and the mastermind behind the Fool's Gold label.

His was a laptop-heavy DJ set, leaving one to wonder just how much of the music was automated. But that didn’t matter a whit to the kids, several of whom made the most of the critical mass by crowd-surfing.

The mixes were hard, hyper-kinetic amalgamations of everything from indie rock to hip-hop to electronica. Who would have thought that Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” could be sliced, diced and reconstituted one after the other so smoothly? Actually, I misspeak. The tunes were as bumpy as could be. You could just about feel the ones and zeros grinding against each other as A-Trak ran it through his secret cache of software.

The man born Alain Macklovitch was everything that Girl Talk was hyped up to be and then some. Call me a sucker, but I had a great time.

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Fired-up Subways deliver a scorcher at Spaceland

On Tuesday night, the Subways marked the completion of studio sessions for their sophomore album rather ceremoniously -- the last note was played when drummer Josh Morgan banged a gong that was set afire.

On Wednesday, the British trio brought some heat of its own, delivering a blistering 10-song set to an appreciative Club NME crowd at Spaceland that included, among others, their producer for the yet-untitled album, Butch Vig. The night was capped by their memorable single "Rock and Roll Queen" and pretty much extinguished any doubts that the precocious punkers could be major players.

Singer-guitarist Billy Lunn -- the problems that required January surgery to remove vocal nodes now behind him -- confessed to the crowd that he, Morgan and bassist Charlotte Cooper were nervous, not having played live in months. But his manner, part cocksure smile and part sneer, indicated otherwise. New songs "Kalifornia," "Turnaround," "Girls and Boys" and "I Won't Let You Down" fit into the set seamlessly with six numbers from the band's 2006 debut, "Young for Eternity."

"There are times I look at Billy and think, 'What the [heck] are you doing to your voice?' " Cooper said afterward.

"My voice is as good as ever now," Lunn said. "There were some points when we were making the record when I wanted to get back in the vocal booth ... I told Butch, 'No, I do that better,' or 'I can scream louder there.' " As for the six weeks in L.A. working with Vig, Lunn said, "He was so much more than a producer. He's just the coolest [guy] on the planet -- I don't know if it's his temperament or what, but we were like sponges, always wanting to learn."

Tentative plans are for the album to be out in March on Warner.

Photos by Kevin Bronson / LAT.

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Thanks, Radiohead

My headphones are on, and the final strains of "In Rainbows" are fading away. On first listen, Radiohead's new album is a magnificent head trip -- am I getting any work done today? -- with production so meticulous you're afraid to interrupt what's going in your ears by even breathing. "15 Step" and "Fishes/Arpeggi" are to die for, but I suspect that after spending more time with this I will be wishing that someone would introduce Thom Yorke to Red Bull and that Radiohead could write a full-on rocker or two.

Random other opinions:

Ann Powers, The Times' pop music critic, stayed up late last night and weighs in here.

Annie Zaleski in St. Louis didn't get much sleep either. She blogs here.

Dave Rawkblog's first impression here.

Track by track.

Why of course.

Meanwhile, I read only scattered reports of download problems -- did everyone get his/her copy with relative ease?

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Weeked wrap, Part 2: 'Like a giant Cinespace'

[A Buzz Bands correspondent describes the scene at the second annual Neighborhood Festival at Exposition Park on Saturday:]

It was as if I awoke from a coma to find that the style of Los Angeles hipsters had gone from tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and black-and-gray sneakers to, well, tight jeans, hats, faded shirts and sneakers -- but done in Day-Glo. Any doubts that "nu-rave" has arrived were erased at the Neighborhood Festival, Dim Mak's dance-music gathering that featured the likes of the Faint, Mickey Avalon, Chromeo and DJ sets from AM, Blake Miller of Moving Units and Dim Mak's founder, Steve Aoki.

But as with an event based in hipster culture, this one seemed high on style and short on actual content. The crowd seemed largely unmoved by the live sets, with the exception of the Faint, who seemed every bit the main attraction they deserved to be. The real stars were the DJs -- Aoki, with Har Mar Superstar acting as his "hype man," incited the crowd with a pumped-up version of of the Refused anthem "New Noise" and finished his set with a stage dive. AM mashed up Justice Vs Simian's "We Are Your Friends" with "Where's Your Head At" by Basement Jaxx, and Miller's set -- he's now DJing as Blake Is Ruthless -- featured three hot policewomen on the dancefloor.

One observer likened the scene to "a giant Cinespace," referring to Aoki's successful Tuesday night promotion at the Hollywood club that was built on high energy and seemingly hackneyed dance music spun with a liberating irony.

A lot it of sounds tired unless you're 20: Oldies with beats? Really? You don't remember electro-clash?

Maybe it's the advent of DJ programs like Serrato, but dancefloor hits are being put together in a genuinely fresh way. "New Noise" indeed.

Photo by Trey Derbes

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Weekend wrap: The National, in a theater; DeVotchka, on a hilltop

There were so many choices for music this weekend my head hurt -- old-school raves, new-school raves, vendor-clogged neighborhood shindigs and even boy geniuses grown up and backed by orchestras.

My highlights:

The National makes music not for sold-out concert halls but for long walks back to your car down deserted streets, if you can remember where you parked. Somehow, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet made it work Friday night at the Wiltern, punctuating its bookish musings with epic freakouts and exhilarating excursions by violin player Padma Newsome. Matt Berninger's soul-jarring baritone turned the Wiltern into a crowded confessional from the very start. "I had a secret meeting / in the basement of my brain," he sang, and despite the setting you felt like you were in on it.

That the music of the last two National albums -- 2005's stellar "Alligator" and this year's equally good "Boxer" -- has found an audience this big is nothing short of amazing. Was it poignant or laughable that the chorus to "Baby, We'll Be Fine," turned into a sing-along Friday night? I'm still trying to figure it out, but that's the one image I took home from the Wiltern: a theater full of people joining Berninger as he repeated "I'm so sorry for everything."

The modestly attended (at best) Swerve Festival on Saturday and Sunday afternoon provided the perfect counterpoint to the National's shadowy stylings. The inaugural event, held mostly at the hilltop Barnsdall Art Park in Los Feliz, offered film, music and art in ways that those keyed into what the festival described as "West Coast creative culture" could appreciate. Like listening stations hanging from pine trees. Or mobile skateboard-making stations.

Musically, it was sublime. A stage erected on the grassy knoll next to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House hosted sets from the likes of Foreign Born (pictured above), the Black Angels, St. Vincent and DeVotchka. Foreign Born's exhilarating indie rock and DeVotchka's genre-mashing orchestrations were the highlights for me. This event must have cost a fortune for its sponsors, including Fuel TV, but we can we do this once a month or so?

Photos: Top, Matt Popieluch and Lewis Pesacov of Foreign Born; middle, pinwheel art at the Swerve Festival; above, Nick Urata of DeVotchka (by Kevin Bronson / LAT).

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT) 

Arcade Fire stokes crowd at the Bowl

So here's my dirty little secret: Until last night, I had never attended a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I know, I know, it sounds almost criminal, since I've lived just over the hill for about five years. But owing to a general aversion to large crowds and an often-noncommittal attitude toward the acts that draw them, I'd managed to avoid this singularly Los Angeles experience.

There was no better way to swallow the communal-music-experience happy pill than seeing Arcade Fire on Thursday. It was the sixth time I've seen the band, at six different venues -- the first being a 300-capacity club in Silver Lake where it got so crazy that the group ended up playing percussion on the ventilation shafts above the stage. The virtuosic chaos generated by the 10-strong Montreal collective was too big for that room, to be sure, and on its second trip to the Bowl on Thursday, its set felt almost like performance art. All that pandemonium, dispensed like bread crumbs to hungry little creatures bobbing in and out of the geometrically tidy partitions that make up the Bowl's wedge.

Just beautiful.

LCD Soundstystem provided a second excellent reason to traipse up the hill, with James Murphy and gang delivering a set that matched Arcade Fire's in energy but couldn't have been more different in form. With LCD, it's all about repetition and order. The beats are insistent, and the riffs come at you again and again. If Arcade Fire's exuberance seemed fuel for a wistful optimism, LCD always seemed to me to be the soundtrack to a healthy cynicism. The huge disco ball that was brought in for the occasion was not just a prop; it was a wink.

So your nerdy blogger drank some wine, high-fived some people in the aisles, moved around a little bit to ward off the autumn chill, looked at the ribbons of light in the night sky and vowed to come back sometime. With a better-stocked picnic basket, a better camera and more friends.

Photo: LCD Soundsystem and its disco ball (Kevin Bronson / LAT)