The Airborne Toxic Event w/ The Deadly Syndrome (and Castledoor) @ Spaceland 01-31-08

Last night was the first most-hyped show of the year. Every blogger and awesome radio show told its audience "get there early". I'd heard that Spaceland was opening doors at 8pm, which was not true, but it put the panic in some. I got there at 8:30pm and there were already 100 people in line. Doors opened at 8:45pm (due to a late soundcheck, I am told) and I didn't even get in until after 10pm. At the end of the night, I overheard someone say that 500 were let in and 200 were turned away. The owner told me he gets a crowd like this "12 or 13 times a year," though I'd never seen it like that first-hand. Ever.

Of the seven or so people I spoke with while waiting, not a one had ever been to Spaceland before, and I didn't see a single familiar face in line. The crowd skewed late 20s and many of them were dressed as though they were "going out," not "going to Spaceland". (I did speak with one underage couple. [don't think they got in...] They had never heard Stop Making Sense. Poor things.) The crowd wasn't a "who is who" of the music scene like it was three weeks ago, but Access Silverlake (zomg!1!11!!11!oneone!one1) reports seeing representatives from The Monolators, The Henry Clay People, Silversun Pickups, and the ever-present Bronson in the crowd.

(Joey from HCP, by the way, told me the band's plans for the second night of their February residency. I won't spoil the surprise here... but you want to be spending February 11th at The Echo.)

Outside in line there was a camera man filming Airborne Toxic Event testimonials, and you really got the feeling that the evening was something special. It was, in fact.



Even though I got there 45 minutes early, I didn't get inside in time to see Castledoor. I was next-in for their last three songs though and they sounded great coming through the door! The throng was so packed that security had to yell "Clear the way! Equipment coming through!" as they were loading-out. The scene looked like something out of a music biopic, like The Jam making a cameo in a film about The Clash or something. I'm bummed I missed Castledoor's set, but I found this clever little flyer on the ground later in the evening:



The Deadly Syndrome played an unbelievably proficient set before a tough crowd of non-scenesters, most of whom had probably never heard their music, or even heard of the band before. (A few Deadly Syndrome faithful could be seen, but I suspect many were stuck outside waiting.) For the better part of the electrifying performance, their efforts were futile. It was like a party of epic-level adventurers with all the experience in the world, the heads of gold dragons on their mantels... but none of the magic items that which are required to even deal damage to the vile, unmerciful lich of a crowd.

The patrons warmed-up a few songs before the set was over, though, and then came the death-blow: "Eucalyptus". Casting a Magical Stones spell on some humble pebbles, they confirmed a critical hit with a second-consecutive nat 20, dealing triple damage and beheading the undead crowd in a brilliant blaze of blue rock-and-roll sorcery. The audience was floored, converted to the Sect of Syndrome, and the heroes emerged triumphant. Beware, agents of evil, for the righteous drum circle shall smite thee in a bath of blood, black as tar. It was a great fucking set, if ye believe the tale I tell.






During the Deadly Syndrome's set I spoke briefly with Mikel Jollett of The Airborne Toxic Event. He knew they were the #1 requested song on KROQ that day but he remained humble, convinced that "It'll all go away next week". As he later told the crowd that evening, he said that he spent the day in the hospital at his father's side. (Dad is apparently doing fine now) But it made me think about how at some point these successful local bands transcend being "guys around town" to locals and become mere icons to people in other cities. (A fan in Houston only knows ATE by their myspace page.) It was grounding for me to think that all the recent success they've had this month doesn't change the fact that family can get sick, friends can get in trouble, and our latest Los Angeles Music Scene Champion still has to deal with every day life.

As for the set itself... it was the best of the three that I saw in January. They opened with "Papillon," and god, I (obviously) never saw The Clash live... but I think Jollett is the closest thing to Joe Strummer Los Angeles has, both in his energy and the passion with which he sings. I've been listening to London Calling a lot this past week, and I think "Papillon" is a song that could easily be found in the middle of that seminal album.

The Airborne Toxic Event really knows how to assemble a set list. They know when to hit you hard, when to bring you down, and when rev you up again. There were numerous occasions where my body was captivated by some sort wizardry, animated in unnatural undulations beyond my own control. There was swaying, bopping, and pogoing. Much of the crowd was similarly enchanted. The spell radius was all-encompassing, if not infinite.

"Happiness is Overrated" and "Innocence" were probably the top numbers for the evening. And as has been said before by myself (and many before me), "Wishing Well" is simply one of the most beautiful songs to hear played in town live. According to my notes, the set list was something like this:

• Papillon
• Gasoline
• Happiness is Overrated
• Does This Mean You're Moving On?
• ???
• This Is Nowhere (Dedicated to all the other LA local bands)
• Sometime Around Midnight
• Wishing Well
• Innocence
• Missy (encore)

It's easy to get excited about every great band you see in LA. (There's 30+ great bands) But there's a difference between a great band and a band that "has it". Obviously, Silversun Pickups and Autolux "have it". Great Northern probably does. The Deadly Syndrome seems to "have it" about half the time. The Happy Hollows and Castledoor flirt with "it".

This illusive "it," its something that makes you bigger than the room. It's zen-like clarity in music, something that doesn't just make you feel good, it changes your vision; you see differently after hearing "it". It's something that is intangible and abstract, but not the least bit ephemeral. It's all in the songwriting, but the performance is requisite; it must be pristine and pure.

The Airborne Toxic Event have "it". They are playing The Detroit Bar in Costa Mesa, then a couple shows in New York, and then South By Southwest. Jollett's humility notwithstanding, count on having to go somewhere like The Wiltern the next time you want to see them.




There is an epilogue to last night's historic show...

Some weeks ago, Mikel Jollett read Classical Geek Theatre and observed the chronicles of my space adventures. He contact me, let it be known that he is quite the space pilot himself (see his top score here, incidentally) and challenged my honor.

Of course, I accepted his arrogant overtures! Last night, around 1:15am, the rivals met in a blackened void dotted with the fading lights of distant galaxies. Swarms of insectoid-android ships assaulted our vessels, both charged with out-gunning the other. The stakes were honor and a right to live.

In my negligence, I forgot to photo the *final* tally... but rest assured, His Bloggership was soundly defeated. Roughly 146,000 to 39,000. The humiliation burns like a thousand suns! My greatness is but a red dwarf, paling when faced with the awesome energy output of a supernova like The Airborne Toxic Event. Well met, sir.

Ironically, I posted my all-time best score earlier in the evening, when playing alone. It is the score on the left. Behold:



We chatted briefly about literature and Kurt Vonnegut, whose hometown I am from. Let it be said on record that Jollett is a super-fucking nice guy, and smart as shit, too. But I suspect the real music fans, and most of you who read this blog, knew that already. It goes without saying, they deserve every bit of success they get.