In which we get our heads exploded. By drums. Because our faces are inside of them.

“Call my baby lollipop, tell you why.

His kiss is sweeter than an apple pie.

And when he does his shaky rockin’ dance,

Man I haven’t got a chance.”

Barbershop classic ‘Lollipop’ is not what I’d expect to precede the double-drumming insanity of Thee Oh Sees. A couple of hours still until the headliner take the stage, and the crowd is sparse. A curious selection of music plays through the speakers- and while “Lollipop” seems both anachronous and incongruous to the setting, there’s a fitting irreverence to the song in this house of rock, a cheeky irony to the quaint naivety of lyrics about a “shaky rockin’ dance.” There may be some of that tonight.

A woman walks onto the stage and takes a seat in the center. She is backlit and alone, equipped with a microphone, guitar, and looper pedal. Her bubblegum-pink hair is at odds with the loose-fitting denim overalls she sports. The result is pretty simultaneously bohemian and working-class, evoking painter more than musician. This is Shannon Lay, the first opener of the night.

Guitarist and keyboardist for Feels, a self-styled ‘psych punk grunge post future rock + roll whatever band,’ tonight Shannon plays songs from her solo debut, ‘Holy Heartache.’ The title lets you know pretty clearly what to expect- Shannon’s music is a gentle, melancholy indie-folk blend. Her voice is strong and confident, though the acoustics make it difficult to decipher her lyrics. Mellow and contemplative, the music is refreshingly melodic and an excellent palate cleanser for the night ahead- in her own words, the ‘calm before the rage.’ Check her out on bandcamp if you’re looking for some nice bittersweet tunes: https://shannonlay.bandcamp.com/releases

By the time the second opener takes the stage, the crowd has definitely fleshed out. Which is reasonable, considering the band about to play is Wand, of whom I have previously waxed eloquent. Suffice to say, frontman Cory Hanson is someone to fucking watch. Everything he’s been involved with has continued to get me more and more excited, from all three of his very excellent albums with Wand, to his contributions as an Emotional Mugger, to his ridiculously beautiful solo debut, The Unborn Capitalist from Limbo. And tonight’s no exception to the trend.

Last time I saw Wand, they didn’t have a stage. This time, the Teragram has set them up nicely with a little elevation, and I grab a spot at the front, right where Cory is playing. It’s been about a year and a half since the last Wand album was released, and they’ve amassed some new material by this point. I highly recommend checking out Wand’s Paris and Desert Daze sets on YouTube if you want to hear some of their new material. Their set alternates one new song for every old, with smooth transitions rounding out a tight, polished performance. Many of their songs flow into the next by riding a single note, repeated by Cory or drummer Evan Burrows; a small thing, but effective in keeping the crowd engaged and creating a sense of constancy in the music. From the back catalog we’re graced with a souped up version of ‘Self Hypnosis in 3 Days.’ The band’s added a nifty bridge in the middle of the song where the guitar takes a backseat to some soft-spoken, cautionary vocals-

‘You can climb the mountain

You can swim the sea.

You can jump into the fire,

But you’ll never be free.’

These vocals break down into Hanson shouting ‘You can make each other happy!’ before devolving into wordless shouting and melodic ‘ohs.’ Within the context of the grim assertion of unreality that is the rest of the song, this refrain adds a brutal knife-twist of irony, just barely tinged with hope. It’s a fantastic and unexpected addition to the song, and a break from the norm in terms of both lyrical content and delivery. Hanson’s typically precise delivery of hallucinogenic lyrics gives way to an unrestrained, frantic animalism, grounded in the universal, haunting image of the pretense and pursuit of happiness. In loosening his control, it seems like Hanson’s definitely picked up a trick or two from Ty Segall without losing the heady essence of Wand, and it’s a pretty exciting direction for the band.

The band really embraces this aesthetic of control teetering on the edge of rupture in its live performance. And for a short white dude with wry, shy, self-deprecating crowd talk, Hanson’s got a ton of swagger. He swivels his hips, jerks his knee up, strums his guitar with a full rotation of his shoulder, raising his arm like a rock preacher before striking down in one sharp motion; he pivots his arm behind his back like he’s so cool he doesn’t even need his hands to play, letting the instrument wail away without him. And to be fair, his crowd talk is less self-consciously awkward than the last performance I caught. Some hecklers start a sarcastic chant of ‘Thank you! Thank you!’, to which Hanson throws out an exaggeratedly dismissive ‘Oh, please.’ This before introducing the next song with the helpful: ‘This next one’s a song.’

Speaking of which- man, those new songs. There’s one that I can only describe as Wand takes on country, with a fairly rollicking beat drenched in that delicious grunge I’ve come to expect from this band, plus an excellent chorus with the female vocalist/keyboardist whose name I still can’t find because I am incompetent. And then there’s the song my brother’s been anticipating since hearing it played in recordings of Wand’s Desert Daze set. The first notes make it sound like the band’s going to cover Television’s ‘Marquee Moon,’ but it’s a Wand original, albeit with a distinct Television flair. And if the idea of Wand riffing on Television doesn’t excite you, then you need to listen to more Wand and you need to listen to more Television.

The song - which Cory later tells my brother is called ‘Blue Cloud’ - is really, really good. Like ‘Marquee Moon,’ it starts out with an intoxicating blend of rhythm and lead guitar, before the beat and melody kick in. Hanson’s vocals kill on this one, providing the framework for the rest of the song to hang around. The music gradually and gracefully descends into a blend of itinerant sounds, like an amateur jazz band’s rehearsal, musicians throwing out notes and testing their instruments in a vaguely patterned cacophony, before the melody kicks back in at the end and Hanson’s aching voice closes the show. Wand can be a really harsh band, but there’s always a skeleton of melody running through the anarchy of their sound, and in this song that melody emerges gloriously. The crowd goes all out on the One more song! One more song! schtick generally reserved for headliners; ‘Blue Cloud’ leaves you pretty desperate for more. Unfortunately, the show runners are sticking to their schedule and Wand departs the stage. Though with some assholes in the crowd, one of whom throws his can of beer at Cory, it’d be understandable if the band isn’t super eager to answer the encore.

(Speaking of which, fuck that guy).

So there are two clear takeaways from this set: 1) We need a live Wand album, because they’re clearly experimenting and doing interesting things with their back catalog; and 2) We really, really need that next Wand LP to come out, because I need ‘Blue Cloud’ looping on my iPod as soon as possible. Get on that, Drag City.

...And after that, Thee Oh Sees. In truth, Wand steals the show for me tonight, but that could be because Cory Hanson apparently has a mainline to my soul, and I’ve seen this same set from Thee Oh Sees two times already. That being said, there’s good reason why Thee Oh Sees are an institution of this realm of garage rock. We’re lucky enough to have them as a local band, since frontman John Dwyer relocated from San Francisco after increasing gentrification left the place a bit of a dead end. Friends of fellow garage rock legend Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees play a similar game in terms of ridiculously prolific album output, always shifting their lineup and sound. Tonight they’re still rolling hard with the doubled drums. My brother and I watch as the drummers lug their equipment to the front of the stage and set it down inches away from the edge. A few warm-up beats and my head’s already ringing- this was always going to be loud. It’s just going to be a bit louder now that our faces are a couple inches away from the bass drums. John Dwyer walks the perimeter of the stage with a wedge of incense in hand, then off we go.

The set’s pretty similar to what I’ve heard before- a lot of songs off Carrion Crawler (‘The Dream,’ ‘Soul Contraption’) and Floating Coffin (‘Toe Cutter Thumb Buster,’ ‘I Come From the Mountain’). All fast, frantic, and high-energy. While it’s a lot of fun, I’d actually have preferred more variety in the set. It gets pretty tiring to have high energy song after high energy song, especially since I know Thee Oh Sees have such a deep and varied back catalog. I understand the bandmates change around, and it doesn’t make sense for the whole band to be comfortable playing every song John Dwyer has been involved with, but I would have appreciated something that could have broken up the unrelenting drums. I heard a few shouts for ‘I Was Denied’ off Warm Slime, and that would’ve been a great way to keep the energy up while allowing the crowd to refresh from the heavy pounding. To be fair, that’s because as I may have mentioned, the drums were directly in my face. Yes, I could have moved back a row or whatever. But then John Dwyer would’ve seen that I was weak, and I couldn’t disappoint John Dwyer.

Because that dude is basically a demon. His motions are sharp, jagged things, like a marionette on the end of some pretty vicious strings. He gets low to the ground and explodes back up with limbs expanding like they’re pinioned on mechanical joints. It’s a joyously, give-no-shit kinetic performance that’s pretty damn fun to experience. Dwyer wields his instrument like a weapon, leaping around the stage, spearing the guitar towards and away from the drummers. His pick jumps from his mouth to his hand and back again in a cycle generously lubricated by saliva. The guitar also receives plenty of attention from his tongue, and since the casing is clear, the crowd is treated to a nice wholesome view of Dwyer’s demonic face smeared against the ad-hoc window. Rock ‘n’ roll, bitches.

But while Dwyer is always engrossing to watch, this set belongs to the drummers, Dan Rincon and new addition Paul Quattrone. By placing them at the front of the stage, the band’s clearly making a statement on what this show’s about- even when that decision entails the logistic nightmare of trying to keep all the equipment from falling as unstable, somewhat less-than-sober fans attempt to clamber up the stage and dive off. The drummers themselves, though- it’s a beautiful set up. Two people come together to wield large sticks and synchronously beat the shit out of something- terrifying and glorious, just like Dwyer himself. My body vibrates. I do significant damage to my ears.

So while some of the effect has lessened on me because I’ve seen this set before, it’s still impressive and a lot of fun. Overall, this sold-out night at the Teragram has been a great mix of musical styles, with the added benefit of netting some free meals for the homeless through a local charity, L.A. Kitchen, so we get to feel good about ourselves. Except the dude who threw the beer can at Cory Hanson. I hope you feel like shit because someone stole your wallet.

Shannon Lay :

7.5

Wand :

9.5

THEE OH SEES :

8