We gave away tickets to a couple lucky winners last week, and I followed hot on their heels to the Mogwai show downtown.
With all the wild boosterism I supply for the Orpheum, you’d think I’d have been there, but this was my first time. The semi-baroque, semi-neoclassical performance hall did not disappoint. It was strange but appropriate to see Mogwai there–such a stark, spare, deconstructed-and-reconstructed sound amidst the architectural equivalent of an Italian opera.
I wish I knew the titles of each song they played, but alas, I do not. I reluctantly hand back my membership in the Music Geek Club.
Nonetheless, the show was an aural assault that soothed you into a calm complacency as Stuart Braithwaite noodled somnolently away at his guitar, then let loose with a massive wall of sound that set the subwoofers beneath my feet (as I took pictures from the pit) thrumming, fit to rattle down the gold-leafed ceiling.
Amen to Mogwai, and a sound so wide and deep it can’t fit in words. Thanks for bringing the sublime to downtown LA.
More pics behind the jump and on flickr.