Klaxons: Live at The Troubadour

For her second guest post on Muruch, Starlite Diner‘s Laura caught the rowdy Klaxons concert at L.A.’s Troubadour on October 9th. Following is her take on the show…

Rebellious youth and the 2000’s post-punk energy thrust its way through the walls and corridors of the Troubador on Saturday the ninth of October, 2010. I was almost immediately taken back to my first encounters with the newer British invasion, which introduced me to bands like The Libertines, Arctic Monkeys, The Paddingtons and Klaxons.

The crowd, who had been restlessly queueing outside around the building, buzzing with anticipation, now spun and near-exploded as they opened with the gritty rock and back alley dirty soul of “Flashover.” The feeling around the room was infectious, and it was near impossible not to be swept up in it.

The newer songs, from the album Surfing the Void, seemed to garner just as much sing-screaming, dancing, and adoration as the introductory songs from their 2007 album, Myths of the Near Future, and the show itself seemed to keep a welcomed balance of the new and their earlier work. It was noticeable that there is a bit more edge, a smidge more rock, and possibly a pinch more seasoning in the latest songs – though this could be the young quintet just gaining a history between them, forging a chemistry, and fettering out an even more powerful sound.

By the time the band got around to “Golden Skans,” the first song I’d ever heard off them, the crowd felt to be one unit of kinetic energy – bodies bouncing and melding into one being. Though it was “Magick,” which hit about mid-set, that really did the crowd in. People flew into each other, losing their minds in that best kind of way, and I felt like I was in the midst of something memorable, chaotic, and passionate.

This exploding fervor did not calm during the bands entire set, and for awhile I wondered if I’d become a bit too old for this kind of show – and then laughed the thought of and kept dancing myself. My gigging partner nearly lost his glasses, and I left the show missing a button from my jeans, a stick of lipgloss that flew out of my purse, and holding onto a now cracked cell phone in my hand. That said, I’m glad I was apart of the early October wild night – this sold-out show was definitely a not-to-be-missed night in Hollywood – and most assuredly left a mark on the historical Troubadour walls.

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