Full capacity at the El Rey Theater and only one measly glow stick was in sight. Disappointing really what with the ad nauseam hype that seemed to besiege the men of Klaxons. Publicity that may have gotten too ridiculous in fact, as to this day no one really has the faintest idea what “New Rave” really is and who knows, we’re possibly just one click away until we’ve logged onto simontaylordavishaircut.blogspot.com [writer’s note: the guitarist’s haircut really is endearing up close.]. What may have gotten a good bulk of the attention, however, is the act’s live show, not just for their random JT. “My Love” cover that happened to be in the middle of their sets recently, but for their pre-show ritual of getting really trashed before a gig resulting in a car wreck of a show. Further investigation on this matter, evident by their NME tour video diary, clearly indicated that full intoxication had to be kept to a minimum as the band’s backstage booze had to be taken away by their tour manager. Because of this, who really knew what to expect of Klaxons at Tuesday night’s show: the shriek prevalent off their excellent debut record, Myths of the Near Future, or the above-the-legal-limit concert yelps. Mind you, with a few beers on stage (got to keep it in moderation) the band played to that of the former, performing as tight of a set equivalent to that of the trousers they were sporting.
Only in L.A. for just a mere 24 hours, it seemed as if there was a sense of urgency for Klaxons to complete what was at hand. It may have had to do with their small catalogue of songs, but less than 40 minutes really felt like seconds. It still didn’t detract from one single factor: time is of no importance as long as you can play, and sure enough, the Londoners did that to a T: slaying the audience, even toying with them as dead air filtered mid set. Rest assured, the electro punk noose never did exacerbate, so that when released, it gave to a euphoric outpour of dancing.
The overlapping falsettos flaunted by both Jamie Reynolds and James Righton only continued the night’s groove as the two helped to power an idyllic rendition of “Golden Skans” and an utterly romantic helping of “As Above So Below.” A ball of sweat for most of the show, Reynolds also laid on the charm, continually thanking the audience as many times as he could, and with help from drummer Steffan Halperin, showered an even helping of rhythmic muscle complete with the ever-so-thoughtful party bass lines courtesy of Reynolds himself.
Not to be outdone, Taylor-Davis and Righton made for the precise pair as the two bombed through an engaging “Atlantis To Interzone,” a sci-fi of a stunner. Decked in a black Justice t-shirt, Righton made waste of his keyboard, continually pushing the DJ sample button as often as he could, making sure the air raid sirens were closely behind. Taylor-Davis seemed often in his own alternate reality, but that proved to be a good thing as throughout the set he continually ripped through the notes, and when time came for “Four Horsemen of 2012,” the colossus of Klaxons’ repertoire, he made great use of total guitar destruction. Having a complete lack of affinity for it, he wrapped his microphone around it and by the end of set threw it down, only to have in his possession a half-empty beer bottle. Klaxons, not centaurs, cheers mates.
More Tour dates here: www.myspace.com/klaxons
