Last night White Magic set up shop at Chinatown “hipster boutique” Ooga Booga, which is an unfair way to describe a store that encourages freedom of thought, artistic community and integrity and DIY spirit — but for lack of a better phrase, it stays. The small stairwell leading up the awning where White Magic was set to play sagged and wobbled with the weight of dozens of oddly dressed, ridiculously fantastic young people, all pushing and shoving their way in and out of the little store for a cup of beer and then back to grab front row real estate along the railing for the show.
Members of Lucky Dragons as well as Abe Vigoda mingled amongst the softly chattering crowd, while White Magic tuned, then sprang to life, wheezing and distorting out some of the craziest psychedelic blues licks to happen upon this crowd in a long while, as the trend of late amongst youngish, artistic, experimental musicians seems to rely heavily on percussion, sampling and computer wizardry. White Magic, though, played instruments, the old fashioned kind. Lead singer Mira sang her haunted-house vocals, tingling all those bones that pressed so eagerly against each other, straining to get a closer look.