The guy next to me, who's wearing a kilt, says he's hoping for a Pink Floyd buzz from Asteroid No. 4. We're pretty psyched about the Lovetones, whose frontman, Matthew, shows how a Brian Jonestown Massacre vet behaves at the center of a vortex of Mersey/Byrds jangle (with piercing leads occasionally recalling Mick Ronson), dulcet harmonies, and the expressively throbbing bass of double-threat Matt Sigley, who pounds out keyboard swirls with Little Richard's mania. Capping the set with hip-shakers like "Mantra," Lovetones-as-opener seems a rather heads-or-tails proposition.
But wait: there's more. Excited fans edge closer as AN4 adjusts reverb and other effects for about ten minutes, at times amusingly — ever heard cheesesteak through layers of echo? Song No. 1 nearly blows the doors off. Listeners nod in sync with the oceanic waves of Jamie Scythe's bass, intuitively punctuated by Adam Weaver's drums. Three guitars paint a rainbow of flavors, often grounded by beats screaming for mini-skirted cage dancers. Entranced listeners only seem to have one complaint: the finale's a bit of a tease. Like overgrown boy scouts in pointy-toed boots, the three axemen crouch as before campfires around various amps, praying for feedback. To my delight, the prayer is answered. But then, despite a smattering of "Encore!" entreaties, there's...nothing. AN4's haute psychedelia/Brit Beat is so perfect — 'twould be cathartic if that gorgeous control got mussed-up by ten minutes of Oh Sees-tainted chaos.
The guy next to me, who's wearing a kilt, says he's hoping for a Pink Floyd buzz from Asteroid No. 4. We're pretty psyched about the Lovetones, whose frontman, Matthew, shows how a Brian Jonestown Massacre vet behaves at the center of a vortex of Mersey/Byrds jangle (with piercing leads occasionally recalling Mick Ronson), dulcet harmonies, and the expressively throbbing bass of double-threat Matt Sigley, who pounds out keyboard swirls with Little Richard's mania. Capping the set with hip-shakers like "Mantra," Lovetones-as-opener seems a rather heads-or-tails proposition.
But wait: there's more. Excited fans edge closer as AN4 adjusts reverb and other effects for about ten minutes, at times amusingly — ever heard cheesesteak through layers of echo? Song No. 1 nearly blows the doors off. Listeners nod in sync with the oceanic waves of Jamie Scythe's bass, intuitively punctuated by Adam Weaver's drums. Three guitars paint a rainbow of flavors, often grounded by beats screaming for mini-skirted cage dancers. Entranced listeners only seem to have one complaint: the finale's a bit of a tease. Like overgrown boy scouts in pointy-toed boots, the three axemen crouch as before campfires around various amps, praying for feedback. To my delight, the prayer is answered. But then, despite a smattering of "Encore!" entreaties, there's...nothing. AN4's haute psychedelia/Brit Beat is so perfect — 'twould be cathartic if that gorgeous control got mussed-up by ten minutes of Oh Sees-tainted chaos.