My only regret was that I couldn’t get an Orange Julius, because it would’ve made my day of seeing Best Coast at the Beverly Center Bloomingdales even more like a Valley Girl movie montage. After a bit of roaming around Bloomies, we found a small stage in the men’s department. After stopping to purchase a $15 tube of high end shaving cream (hygiene is a priority in my life) from a forty something shop boffin, I turned to see two women sitting in the only two leather chairs around, facing the stage, who are they? Why Bethany and Bobb’s moms of course.  A crowd gathers as Best Coast take the stage—the inhospitable environs of the Beverly Center couldn’t keep the faithful away, despite nary a Pabst Blue Ribbon in sight. Bethany thanked everyone for coming out to such a “weird” show, which was put together by Nylon magazine. The crowd was stylish and giddy, with some sporting high school style lettermen jackets, rolled up jeans and saddle shoes—I guess, when in Rome…or Bloomies, in this case. Bobb plucked a beautiful baritone Danelectro. Bethany sang and strummed of missed boyfriends and ill-fated love. Their new drummer was appropriately put through his paces. The most exciting thing about the show is how loud it was, almost an act of civil disobedience in an affluent department store. I watched the same salesperson from whom I made a purchase earlier now covering her ears so as not to upset her blissful unawareness. The band was dialed in and uptight, their songs polished like a new bauble in a window display, ready for your hot little hands. After about eight songs, Bethany thanked everyone for coming out, “Now go buy some stuff!” If this is the same show that Best Coast takes to Austin’s SXSW, I predict a very good trip to Texas.

—Eyad Karkoutly