THE RAKES @ The Troubadour, 7/17/06
So it was late afternoon when I arrived at the ol' Trou. with my camera slung 'round me shoulder as always. This was all I had, my Canon and my wits. I was here on a whim and a prayer. See, I made a few press requests but none had yet to go through. I would find out later that none of them ever went through. So at the very least, I figured I could catch the band during soundcheck...which I did.
I was about to step in when out walk Matthew (guitarist) and Lasse (drummer). Ooh shit! Heart pounding, I approached them and chatted them up. Nice guys!
"Who's the story for?" asked Matt (he was now Matt at this point because we're cool like that, boo-ya-kasha!)
"Depends on who wants to pick it up but probably Modern Fix, The Rockit or People's Dance Party."
Guess who got the short straw...anyway, sound check arrives...and oh how glorious it sounded! I savored every second of it like a death row inmate eating his last meal.
Sound check ended and the band walked out where we had an impromptu photo session:

Alan (vocalist) and Matt. "We want the drummer and bassist to think we don't want them in the photos." HAHAHAHA!!!!

James (bassist) and Matt showing off a fans' homemade shirt.

Lasse (drummer) wants one in pink.

It just so happens to come in his size!

A few fans.
The band leaves with a few members of Dim Mak Records, who brought the band's EP stateside last year, for dinner and I'm still left without a ticket in. I speak to some other folks involved with openers Protokoll and Every Move A Picture about the situation.
Yes, they received the e-mail request (hurrah!).
Unfortunately there are no more spots on the guest list (DASH IT ALL!).
Right about now is when they clear out the venue. Anyone without a black artist wristband has to leave. Oh shit that's me!
You can just imagine the sight: me with my camera, led out by a large angry-looking black man, as I hold my camera in hand. OH, THE SHAME!
My friend Johnny pulls up in his car and realize that we have only one option: liquor round-up at the nearby 7-11.
We find a parking spot (not saying where because it's free and it's close by and I don't want you fools ruining my spot!!!) and concoct a plan: FIND TICKETS! Yeah, duh!
So we make our (slightly) drunken walk back to the venue. We ask around a bit...when Johnny bumps into some people I know.
"Actually, a friend of ours has two tickets he needs to sell. His other friends couldn't make it."
SUCCESS!!! You see kids...liquor solves everything!
Tickets in hand, we waltzed inside with a light, springy gait. We walked in during the end of Every Move A Picture's set. It was ok.
Then The Rakes came on.
Oh hell...how amazing. Put simply, this is a rock 'n roll band. I mean, yea, they've got a post-punk vibe but they sure aren't Joy Division. And yea, you could say they're Brit-rock but they're nothing like Oasis either.
The album tracks sound better live which is a lot to say since they already sound damn great on record (just my bias speaking? Eh, who gives a fuck!). Album tracks that really stood out moreso live: "We Are All Animals," "T-Bone" and "Violent."
The new songs sounded great, a definite continuation of their debut Capture/Release. Matt sang the vocals on new track "Ausland Mission." He's got some good pipes!
The lack of "Something Clicked And I Fell Off The Edge" on the setlist made me sad. :(
We left almost immediately to the afterparty at Star Shoes in Hollywood!

DJ'ing couresy of Kid Jeans, a.k.a. Danny Masterson and Kid Millionaire/Steve Aoki

What the cats saw from the second floor smoking lounge

The top of Dan's head as he films the set for Dim Mak's imeem

Cobrasnake doing his thing

Clifton (right), bassist for L.A. mod-rock band The Mojo Filters, kickin' it with some big dude

Stripoes = never out of fashion!

Twin-sies Two-sies

Lasse shows us Americans how a drink gets drunk in the UK

Har Mar Superstar leads James and Alan in a dance
This guy has a great review of the show. Suggest you read it as well.
And that's that...the night ended with waves, smiles and some late-night pizza. Now allow me to end on a self-indulgent note:

Until the next tour!
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