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
Photos by Wild Don LewisPSYCHEDELIC FURS
at House of Blues, January 28
Of all the recently reanimated ’80s acts, the Psychedelic Furs are among the most credible. The textured Brit atmo-punks retain a convincing figurehead in front man Richard Butler, have reunited their core lineup (including Butler’s bassist brother Tim and guitarist John Ashton), and know which side their bread’s buttered on — sticking to greatest-hits sets and avoiding radical interpretations.
Tonight’s politely bobbing, clean-cut crowd is massaged with back-to-back minor classics, low-rent theatrics and solid delivery distinguished by Richard Butler’s parched proclamations. In this most corporate of settings, the Furs’ songs — visceral mantras given a dusky Velvet Underground veneer — traverse the pond, the years and a generation with impressive ease. Twenty-five years on, the Furs are still instantly recognizable: Tim Butler’s spinal bass-ics, Ashton’s superprocessed guitar drapes, and Richard Butler ambling between John Lydon’s dismissive, gesticulating sneers and David Bowie’s squinting elegance. Only their signature sax injections are absent, replaced by off-the-shelf keyboard chiming.
“Into You Like a Train” opens with menacing insistence, and “President Gas” — after two technical-hitch false starts — manages to sound similarly urgent. Richard Butler is a performer for whom no onstage moment is trivial, ultra-aware of himself, all eyes upon him: flipping from Silver Surfer poses to high-wire hamming, slack-stringed marionette mime and semi-shamanic squatting. Slim, besuited and removed behind dark glasses, he remains iconic, as the trouser-tugging front-row 30-somethings testify.
Find everything you're looking for in your city
Find the best happy hour deals in your city
Get today's exclusive deals at savings of anywhere from 50-90%
Check out the hottest list of places and things to do around your city