With their last tour of the States now over ten years ago, the band looks no worse for the wear. Bassist and longstanding main songwriter Nicky Wire is an attention getter, as always, doing high kicks wearing a naval captain’s hat in front of his boa-covered mic-stand that could double for a colorful giant macaw. James Dean Bradfield’s voice is as beautiful and crystalline as ever, an instrument that is simultaneously capable of the range and timbre of Peter Cetera and the sneer and outrage of John Lydon, making it possible for this band to turn even a mundane cover song into a universe expanding melody.

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When I drive through Oxnard, CA, I think of many things, but one thing that would have never crossed my mind is a thriving indie and twee pop scene. There are quite a few bands just north of us, quietly making a name for themselves and existing in their own musical bio-dome where the rules, trends and fashion that can weigh down many Los Angeles bands don’t apply.

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Have you ever stood five feet away from a napalm explosion during the height of the Vietnam War? That’s pretty much what standing in the front row at an Entrance show is like. As the band took the purple-lit stage, bassist Paz Lenchantin gave drummer Derek James a high five and they both smiled, as if in on a secret. I figure that’s pretty much what I’d do before every show if I was about to play these songs live.

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Werewolf Art Exhibit is a traveling gallery that showcases the art and performances of some of the most exciting up and coming artists and bands in L.A. Tonight’s edition brought an impressive turnout to the 4300 Loft in Baldwin Hills. It was nice to see an event like this go off so well outside the stronghold of the downtown loft party scene, miraculously leaving much of the downtown snobbery behind.

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