Shoeless, and with one pant leg rolled up in the style of L.L. Cool J, Caribou (or Dan Snaith, a master of understated psychedelic layerings) played the El Rey despite the fact that one of his live band members had to be replaced due to injury. Earlier in the month, Caribou’s drummer, Brad Weber, fell from a ladder, fracturing his wrist in two places.
Subsequently, Snaith cancelled shows in Washington D.C. and Charlottesville, but Ahmed Gallab, the frontman of the Ohio-based Sinkane, played the L.A. show, taking Weber’s place until further notice.
Gallab’s flawless drumming would give no indication whatsoever that he just learned Caribou’s set list. The man is an animal on the kit. Clearly, the highlights of the show were the moments shared between the Gallab and Snaith, fiercely attacking the percussions and building upon each other’s intensity and nuanced improvisations.
Conversely, the worst part of the night was enduring the Fuck Button’s set, which opened the evening. These talentless noisemakers provoked some audience members to head to the back room, nearest the entrance and furthest away from the speakers. Back there, I had the distinct pleasure of overhearing a guy rag on the band to his friend, saying- “I want to beat these guys up.”
Yes, the Fuck Buttons suck.
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