By LA Weekly
By Henry Rollins
By Weekly Photographers
By Shea Serrano
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Dan Weiss
By Erica E. Phillips
By Kai Flanders
The Silent Earthstandouts "Three Evils," "A Favor House Atlantic" and the widdly "Faint of Hearts" are interspersed with older material within a consistent framework: twin buzzing ’n’ chiming guitars, constant shifts in structure, and Sanchez’s son-of-Geddy-Lee pleadings. Unlike Weezer’s geekiness, C&C’s is uncontrived, their library-rock leanings irony-free.
Coheed & Cambria are often ridiculed as a D&D soundtrack, so it’s glorious to see mainstream crowds relating to the band’s uncompromising, gorgeously escapist nerding instincts.
THE CHAPIN SISTERS at Hotel Café, November 5
What with The O.C.–approved Death Cab for Cutie concert at the Wiltern, and God’s own Ted Leo & the Pharmacists testifying at El Rey, the day caused a lot of hand wringing and ticket scalping among L.A.’s indie-rockin’, singer-songwriter-lovin’ faithful. However, if bright lights and big stages aren’t so much your thing, arguably the best gig in town was over at the cozy (i.e., claustrophobic) Hotel Café on Cahuenga Boulevard.
Abigail and Lily, the daughters of popular children’s entertainer-songwriter Tom Chapin (himself the son of the great big-band drummer Jim Chapin, and brother to ’70s folk icon Harry), along with Jessica, daughter of filmmaker Wes Craven, wisely bill themselves as the Chapin Sisters. Having recently relocated to Los Angeles by way of the Long Island Expressway, the Chapins perform a hybrid of kitschy traditional country and contemporary urban folk, writing songs that smartly take their cues from an amalgam of the Kris Kristofferson, Carly Simon and Carter Family catalogs. And yes, while this could easily be called folk-pop or even folk-lite, it is not to be confused with the ilk of Jewel. No, the Chapin Sisters displayed some class, sass and originality.
Maintaining an upbeat, lighthearted air, they delivered flawlessly throated, angelic three-part harmonies on cheeky, miserable originals like "Kill Me Now" and "Drop Me." Between comically trash-talking their unsatisfactory love lives and tugging on beer bottles, they also offered up ironic covers of the Cure and Britney Spears tunes, as well as a reverent rendition of an old-timey Doc Watson classic. An appreciative full house predominantly composed of Ugg-booted women in diaphanous frocks (and the sensitive, khaki-panted boys who love them) clapped long and loud at the end of each number. Given such family lineage, and with word of mouth spreading fast, it’s hardly surprising that the sisters are showing such immediate promise.