New Year's Eve festivities at the Lafayette Hotel drew an interesting mix of guys who never wear suits wearing suits and femme fatales in arch-destroying heels.
The condensed heat of the Lafayette Room was the perfect conduit for an hour's worth of sweaty, punch-to-the-gut blues courtesy of the Heavy Guilt. They powered through a spell of slow-burners from their second album, In The Blood, before closing out the set with Iggy and the Stooges' classic "I Wanna Be Your Dog." Backed by Sean Martin's furious riffs and the alien sounds emanating from Al Howard's circuit-bent radio, frontman Erik Canzona displayed an expansive vocal range capable of gravelly blues and retro punk.
The Silent Comedy welcomed the New Year with a varied set list. The sold-out crowd drunkenly sang along to the life-affirming refrain of "I AM ALRIGHT!" as the band toasted the lost with their sprawling requiem "Gasoline." Their songwriting soars through an economy of words not requiring seven layers of science to cut to the bone. With two vocalists equally adept at slicing through the debauchery of a New Year's Eve audience, TSC commanded the dance floor with up-tempo surges and timely breakdowns.
New Year's Eve festivities at the Lafayette Hotel drew an interesting mix of guys who never wear suits wearing suits and femme fatales in arch-destroying heels.
The condensed heat of the Lafayette Room was the perfect conduit for an hour's worth of sweaty, punch-to-the-gut blues courtesy of the Heavy Guilt. They powered through a spell of slow-burners from their second album, In The Blood, before closing out the set with Iggy and the Stooges' classic "I Wanna Be Your Dog." Backed by Sean Martin's furious riffs and the alien sounds emanating from Al Howard's circuit-bent radio, frontman Erik Canzona displayed an expansive vocal range capable of gravelly blues and retro punk.
The Silent Comedy welcomed the New Year with a varied set list. The sold-out crowd drunkenly sang along to the life-affirming refrain of "I AM ALRIGHT!" as the band toasted the lost with their sprawling requiem "Gasoline." Their songwriting soars through an economy of words not requiring seven layers of science to cut to the bone. With two vocalists equally adept at slicing through the debauchery of a New Year's Eve audience, TSC commanded the dance floor with up-tempo surges and timely breakdowns.