This naked lunch of “alternative Hollywood Babylon” (to borrow a phrase from Fowley) may not have been well-received or readily understood by much of contemporary society, but even the furthest from this subculture couldn’t deny the laudable brazenness and unadulterated energy put into the spectacle.—Not to mention the costumes!

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New York City’s Silk Flowers’ debut self-titled album is coming out on PPM, though they have much in common with the artists on L.A.’s Human Ear Music—from their stripped-down synth sound to their obvious debt to post-punk. Silk Flowers is certainly a hip, smart album perfect for night drives through Echo Park. However, it doesn’t go too far beyond being an aesthetically pleasing collection of songs with consistent production.

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The set starts with a diminutive twentysomething, dressed crisply in a black pullover and white button-down, sitting in a chair with his head slightly bowed. Newcomers probably don’t know what to expect, but Nhat fans can bank on a saucy, effervescent performance. They are not let down. Anywhere Michael Nhat plays is a party, and Friday night, in the echoey back room of The Smell with an audience of about fifteen, is no exception.

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