Second Chances – Fool's Gold

Concert reviews are tricky things. It's entirely likely that the reader will gloss over reviews of bands they haven't heard of; it's entirely likely that those more familiar with the band attended the show and they don't take kindly to negative reviews.

And rave reviews are even worse. If by some chance the unfamiliar reader makes his or her way through a positive review and wants to see the band, they're mostly out of luck. Concerts are usually one-night affairs, so the role of the concert reviewer is one of an eternal, "You should have been there, man" man.

But this is one of those rare times when the stars align: A rave review, a recommendation and, luckily, not one but two more chances for the reader to act. Fool's Gold, as of now this writer's favorite local band, will be playing two more free shows on this month's remaining Monday nights at the Echo.

The show's price, the hallmark of the Echo's new monthly Monday night residency, was enough to lightly pack the small, upstairs club when I arrived on April 13th. At 10:30 PM, there wasn't even a line at the door. Half an hour later, the crowd would be happy for any empty square footage they could find - the eleven (!) members of Fool's Gold weaved through the crowd before the show, clad in a mishmash of tribal regalia and ringspun denim, enticing the audience to chant.

Their arrival onstage was a photographer's dream - three sets of florescent lights colored green, yellow, and red lit the band from beneath, as if by campfire. Their sound, rustic tropical rhythms that have been grown, harvested, dried, ground, and mixed with Luke Top's vocals, fried every molecule in the room, and soon the headgear came off, the facepaint but a melted memory.

Individual performances in the band are deceptively simple and repetitive; the complexity comes from the sheer number of people on stage, as if a much smaller band invited their friends to come out from backstage and jam. But the whirling, hazy repetition would be nothing without Top's singing, which fluctuates between Hebrew and English with such power that I can honestly say I have never heard anything like it.

For some, the vocal incantations might be too gruff, more suited for the synagogue than a rock club. Thankfully, those people left early, giving more room for the rest of the free crowd to dance, most of them already making plans for the following two Monday nights.

Originally in Los Angeles Magazine at: http://www.lamag.com/do/blog.aspx?dt=04/15/2009