“She’s the female R. Kelly,” someone in the crowd said, not whispering, but not shouting either. They were looking up at the bare stage at the Satellite, where The Blow’s Khaela Maricich was flipping her hair and swaying back and forth in an imitation of a sexpot pop star.

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The band’s lyrics are both girlish and jarring, romantic and jaded, like a broken heart on a sunny day. Their live show had the same quality and was a perfect California contradiction—innocent and tough, each piece in all the right ways.

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The night’s headliner, Washington D.C. band Le Loup, began to set up just as the club began to fill with a surprising mix of people, from couples who seemed to be out on a first date to fedora and Navajo poncho-ed uber hipsters just out for their nightly culture injection. Shows in the middle of the week always provide for interesting people watching, both because one’s presence at them implies a certain laissez-fair with regards to your sleep schedule and a real commitment to going to a show, and this Wednesday night was certainly no exception.

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When Kid Sister took the stage, you would’ve thought she was The Beatles come back for a surprise reunion. I fought my way through the glinting, sweaty sea to try and get a better look at what was happening on stage, and thought for a second I would be spat back out again. When a pretty young reveler saw me desperately trying to get a good angle for a photo, she pushed me forward, saying, “Take pictures, take pictures! Show everyone how good she is!”

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Light FM revealed themselves as the best kind of band to see live—genuinely talented and committed to playing their songs well, but also fun and filled with youthful energy. It was clear that all five members of Light FM put their hearts into it, and the crowd certainly did the same. All you had to do to was look towards the front row, where you would find the most enthusiastic pair of dancing Converse in all of Los Angeles.

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When The Plasticines took the stage for their set as the opening act at The Viper Room on Friday night, you could almost hear the tongues of every gentleman, or at least those brought up on dirty movies and rock and roll, hit the floor. The three girls standing above them—and the fourth seated at the drum kit—were the epitome of three irresistible things: they were pretty, talented, and very, very young.

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