Geographer kicked off the live-music portion of the evening. The three-piece band from San Francisco owned the stage as they ran through their catalog of electronic indie dance pop. Singer Michael Deni was at ease onstage, dancing in his denim jacket and shades, prompting one attendee to post an Instagram photo of Deni with the hashtag “#futurehusband.” The fans bobbed their heads to the beat as the synth-infused grooves (complete with cello accompaniment) weaved in and out of the sunset. The energy picked up as Geographer played their more familiar songs, including popular single “Kites,” propelling the band to the end of their highly appreciated set.

The stage setup differed from that of your usual, relatively low-key Memorial Glade concerts. When bands such as Cold War Kids or The Antlers come for Cal Day, they typically set up shop on the dais in front of Doe Library. While a few devoted and particularly eager fans stand up close, most students lie on the grass somewhat distanced from the band. This time, Sperry rolled out their own small but well-equipped outdoor stage at the western edge of the glade, facing east, with an area roped off specifically for the crowd. Rather than passively listening from afar, students were at the foot of the stage, right in the middle of the action.
The break between the two bands was enough time to scrounge the table next to the stage, where event staff set up a spinning wheel bedecked with Sperry boat shoes. One spin of the wheel led to free giveaways, such as t-shirts, hats and beach balls. The event was reminiscent of a miniature Outside Lands — the mounted sign at the entryway, the grassy incline of the glade and the Bay Area chill setting in as the sun peeked through the trees.

Rogue Wave took the stage as the serene twilight began to fade. Frontman Zach Rogue asked the crowd to “move their bodies” to remedy the impending cold air. After opening with an upbeat new single, aptly titled “College,” the band segued into 2005’s “Bird On a Wire,” with its waltz-style pulse. The setlist was filled with familiar tunes, mixed in with a few songs from the band’s upcoming album. Before playing a run of these untried songs in the middle of the set, Rogue told everyone his philosophy on new material, explaining that new songs are like babies who are “finding their legs” — as such, we need to help “welcome them into the world.”

It was easy to see Rogue Wave’s years of experience — from Rogue hitting all of his notes and afro-donning drummer Patrick Spurgeon effortlessly harmonizing to the bassist impressively kicking a stray beach ball right on the downbeat. The band bounded toward the end, rocking hard on favorites such as “Chicago X 12,” “Lake Michigan” and “Harmonium.” Although Rogue cited a strict mandate from the powers that be to cut off the music by 9 p.m., the crowd was having none of it, chanting, “One more song!” Rogue Wave obliged, promising to play “one more love song” and closing out with an electric version of their hit “Eyes.” Singing along to their beloved song, with strings of star-like lights overhead, was a fitting send-off for a sublime night.

Contact David Bradford at dbradford@dailycal.org. Check him out on twitter at @catchadave.

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An all-day event held from noon to 1 a.m., Clochella delivered as a music festival by constantly providing energetic live music throughout the day. Much like its namesake, Clochella had enough drinks and great vibes passed around. Clochella felt amicable and friendly to both residents and visitors. With two live band stages and a DJ stage, there were enough places to satisfy your dance or mosh-pit urges. And in between sets, you could easily find a place to lie down and rest in Cloyne’s backyard lawn and share a cigarette or drink with a fellow attendee.

As a concert venue, Cloyne Court held up extremely well. Sonically, there was rarely any overlap between the stages, which was surprising considering the stages’ proximity. The outdoor Panda stage attracted the most people throughout the day, as the early afternoon brought the perfect amount of sun, and the late night brought a cooling breeze to the sweaty indoors of Cloyne. The poorly named Swog Stage, located indoors in Cloyne’s dining area, attracted more thrash and punk bands, which provided more moshing and dancing than usual. And the Clonarchy Stage provided strobe lights and dance music for awkward couples to grind upon each other. But the acoustics for each area were well-adapted — never too loud and never too soft. If anything, the proximity of the stages made the music more seamless. After hearing the band Wheel On! play a cover of Pavement’s “Cut Your Hair,” you could, within 30 seconds, walk to the DJ stage and dance and rave along to Kanye West’s and Jay-Z’s “Ni**as in Paris.”

Clochella stands as one of the largest co-op concerts, which are not really advertised within the UC Berkeley community as a whole. If you are not caught up with the latest events at Cloyne or any of the other co-ops, it would be easy to make the mistake of thinking that the local music scene at Cal is dead. Besides 924 Gilman, located about 20 minutes away from campus in West Berkeley and known for its straight-edge no-alcohol policy, there are not many “basement show” venues near campus. The closest place to get your low-key live-music fix would be in Oakland, and after 1 a.m., you would be out of luck catching BART back to Berkeley. For an unadvertised event, Clochella had a modestly large turnout. If there was one thing to take away, it’s that there is an audience for this type of concert at Cal.

If you had only observed the crowd, Clochella felt like any other party full of people in their early 20s hanging out and drinking cheap alcohol on a Saturday afternoon. But local live music transformed Clochella from another college party to an event that embodies Berkeley’s culture. For an event that was about music, the experience of the show surmounted any individual act. Clochella showed that parties in Berkeley don’t have to consist of getting drunk off of jungle juice and dancing to bad remixes of Billboard’s Top 100 songs. There is an audience interested in listening to great live music, and one can only hope for a music fest bigger and better than Clochella here in Berkeley.

Contact Art Siriwatt at asiriwatt@dailycal.org. Check him out on twitter at @artsiriwatt.

Correction(s):
A previous version of this article incorrectly identified the Swog stage as the Swag stage.

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In a two-nighter show sandwiched between their Coachella performances, Japandroids and Cloud Nothings played a venue that seemed too small for their popularity and critical acclaim. But the energized indie rock set the perfect tone for an intimate, spirited audience where moshing and stage diving were commonplace.

Japandroids started off the two-act show. The Canadian duo, featuring guitarist Brian King and drummer David Prowse, opened the show with an abundance of liveliness that was obscured at their Coachella performance. Their main hits, such as “The House That Heaven Built” and “Evil’s Sway,” moved the crowd in a way that their newest album, Celebration Rock, was meant to move the crowd. King had a grasp on the crowd throughout the show, and at the end of their set, he even took photos and talked with audience members as he struck Japandroids’ equipment.

Cloud Nothings followed up in a heavy, strong performance that was juxtaposed against the energy of Japandroids’ performance. Their neo-grunge rock was not conducive for dancing or movement, but live performances of “Our Plans” and “Wasted Days” mesmerized the crowd thanks to pure visceral fortitude. Even if Cloud Nothings’ grunge-rock aesthetic was too much for the audience, their set was certainly faithful to their excellent album Attack On Memory.

Overall, both performances felt unbelievably valuable — not because tickets cost $20 but because having these two bands play incredible sets back-to-back at a well-contained venue such as The New Parish felt like a once-in-a-lifetime event. With no opening act to act as filler, The New Parish fulfilled the purpose of hosting Japandroids and Cloud Nothings: having two phenomenal rock artists play an energetic show.

Contact Art Siriwatt at asiriwatt@dailycal.org. Check him out on twitter at @artsiriwatt.

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 JLCO is also active in promoting the arts and music education on an international level and has been featured in several education and performance programs in past years, including those in France, Italy, England, Germany and Japan. The band stayed in Berkeley until Monday, when they held a private concert in conjunction with the SchoolTime performing arts program, whose goal is to allow local K-12 students to expand on their arts education.

 Born in New Orleans in 1961, Wynton Marsalis began classical training on the trumpet at age 12 and shortly thereafter began performing in bands of a wide variety of genres. He attended The Julliard School, where he continued his music education, and then joined the widely acclaimed “hard bop-style” group of the 1950s Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. Since 1982, Marsalis has recorded more than 30 albums, both of the jazz and classical genres. He has won nine Grammy Awards.  Among a plethora of other honors, Marsalis’ greatest feat is possibly becoming the first artist ever to win both classical and jazz Grammys in the same year, 1983. He did the same in 1984.  For this, he is regarded as one of the most versatile musicians in the world today.

 On Sunday, Marsalis and JLCO showcased their ability to stage a concert that incorporated all the elements of musicality, showmanship, live performance and even a bit of surprise. The band opened the night with arrangements of 1940s bebop pianist Thelonious Monk’s “4 in 1” and “Light Blue.” The band then featured its pianist, Dan Nimmer, on a piece called “Animal Dance.” The first half concluded with “42nd and Broadway” and “Swing House,” two works by Gerry Mulligan, the arranger for both the Duke Ellington and Stan Kenton Orchestras. The band took advantage of its variety of instrumentation and used flutes, clarinets and muted brass in addition to its primary instrumentation to add different colors and new blends of sound to each piece.  No two tunes sounded alike.

The second half began with a modern twist. After the intermission, the band opened with “Wigwam,” a Latin tune by fusion pianist Chick Corea. The band then showcased an original piece, “Insatiable Hunger,” written by lead alto saxophone player Sherman Irby. The members of this band were more than just players — they were composers as well. “Insatiable Hunger” is a funk ballad that was inspired by Dante’s “Inferno.”

Then, the concert took an unexpected turn. Marsalis took a brief moment before the next song and said, “One of the greatest things about playing jazz and getting to travel is having the opportunity to get to perform with amazing people all over the world.” He then invited Bay Area-based vocalist Kenny Washington on stage to be featured in the band’s arrangement of Joe Williams’ “Yes Sir, That’s My Baby” — a piece that the band had never rehearsed with Washington and an arrangement that Washington had likewise never seen before. The band read the tune from top to bottom, complete with a vocal scat solo, and received a standing ovation for the almost flawless pursuit of this work.

 The concert concluded with a standing ovation followed by one final number — an improvised encore solo featuring Marsalis.  His playing was artistic.  He sat on a stool on the dimly lit stage next to the pianist and appeared nothing short of relaxed. At the end, he walked off stage, still soloing as he left, and took one final bow before the audience.

 When reflecting on the evening, one of the most interesting things that Marsalis mentioned was the importance of community. He talked about how one of his goals in performing is to encourage support for the arts everywhere he goes. “They’re going to keep on cutting it, so we’ve got to keep on supporting it.”

Marsalis concluded by sending message of inspiration to his audience: “The music we hear, the music of Mozart and Ellington … it’s a gift.”

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The tour, aptly titled “One Last Tour,” drew an interesting combination of ravers with binkies, 40-somethings in plaid and college students with bro tanks. There were buttcheeks flying out underneath rainbow tutus dancing next to sweaters with button-downs underneath.

The group technically formed in 2008 and have produced numerous billboard hits from their two albums, including “Save the World” and “Miami 2 Ibiza.” The trio — Steve Angello, Sebastian Ingrosso and Axwell — have become an international sensation, headlining Coachella and many other music festivals and shows. Easily, they are now one of the iconic names of progressive house music or EDM (electronic dance music), with the likes of Avicii and Skrillex.

They have produced anthem after anthem that has succeeded both as a radio hit and earned respect in the EDM community. They are one of the strongest bridges between the mainstream and the candy-colored ravers. Their wisdom and hard work to value their performance artistry just as much as their music have ensured their success.

Last Wednesday, the mixing setup was temple-like on the stage before an open dance floor. Four horizontal panels stretched to the ceiling for the graphics and light show. Scenes of the bay, ghoulish faces, skulls and galactic shapes pounded forth during the entire set, not to mention flying sparks, the aggressive exhales of fire and several rounds of confetti that showered down on the crowd. The trio rarely spoke, and only near the end did they finally begin to interact with the crowd.

But we didn’t need them at the beginning. The group were so much higher up in their throne than the audience on the dance floor. Their presence was godlike, so dominating that it was easy to forget it was just three dudes manipulating sound on their laptops and other mixing machinery.

The crowd, however, was so hyped after waiting three hours since the doors had opened to see Swedish House Mafia that there wasn’t a need for the DJs to egg them on. Fights broke out in the front of the dance floor in the lull after the openers finished. Small security squadrons shoved their way to the front and had to drag people out several times. Such violent desperation to see the group burst at once when the group came on opening with “Greyhound.”

When the crowd finally stopped smashing one another to death and gave each other room to dance and enjoy the music, the DJs seemed to enjoy themselves more as well. “Don’t You Worry Child,” one of their top singles of their career, slowed after a couple of minutes, and the entire auditorium was ordered to sit down. In less than five seconds, no explanation needed, almost every single person sat down in the gum, beer, blunts and abandoned glowsticks without a second thought. It’s Swedish House Mafia — you do what they say. So when the beat dropped and everyone in the entire house jumped up at once, it was like the group was coming on stage all over again.

Though the group didn’t play all of their greatest hits, and there was only one encore song for a barely two-hour set, the crowd didn’t complain; Swedish House Mafia could have played the same two songs the entire night. Their presence alone was momentous enough. The point was not to overindulge but to leave the crowd wanting more.

They played “Don’t You Worry Child” again near the end but slower this time. Thank yous scrolled down the same screen that had, for the past two hours, been furiously exploding with more than a million dollars worth of lasers. The final line stayed on the screen the longest: “You came. You raved. We loved it,” and the dazed fans realized that Swedish House Mafia was now history.

A.J. Kiyoizumi covers visual art. Contact her at akiyoizumi@dailycal.org.

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Rocking a late-night set at Oakland’s Fox Theater last Thursday, singer Nate Ruess belted out the crystal-clear vocals patented by the band. Never faltering, he sounded reminiscent of a young, crisper Freddie Mercury, with incredible range and vocal dexterity.

After the mellow, catchy set list of opener Andrew McMahon (whom, coincidentally, Fun. opened for last year before exploding big with “Some Nights”), Fun. took the stage and started strong with fan favorite “Out on the Town.”

Those onstage included guitarist Jack Antonoff, melody magician Andrew Dost on keys and two tour members to help handle drums and back-up guitar. Meshing seamlessly, the group performed perfectly synchronized, and sounded just as they do recorded.

This stop on the tour marked one in a long line of promoting their latest album “Some Nights” released early last year. Although the material has been on the airwaves for a while now, the songs still sounded fresh, and the band looked like they’d never get sick of playing them.

During the show, the constant barrage of one song after another would occasionally stop so that Ruess could banter with the audience. Topics included the band being a fan of East Bay music growing up, once opening for their opener and Antonoff’s severe allergy to cats.

The only thing more captivating than Ruess’ voice was his movement. In perpetual warp-speed, he bounced across the stage like an eccentric general addressing his fanatical army. The band behind him only fueled his energy, tirelessly pumping out the type of upbeat, good-time ballads that one might sing with a group of close friends while returning from a night out at the bars in the band’s native New York City.

This flesh and blood recitation vigorously enhanced most songs, although due to Fun.’s recent experimentation with studio effects on “Some Nights”, the tracks peppered with auto tune sounded canned live.

But overall, the raw energetic style of frontman Ruess was distinctly intimate. The musicians’ comfort playing with one another showed, and the ensemble consumed the stage like a raucous organism — its blood, the power pop melodies coursing through their instruments, and its pulse, their trademark thumping drum rhythm.

Spacing out the more popular singles, the artists gave the impression of playing the songs they wanted to, which were largely an assortment of deep album cuts from “Aim and Ignite” and “Some Nights.” After concluding their line-up, the band was called out one last time to do a show-stopping encore of the song “Some Nights,” which would afterward serve as the anthem ringing through the BART tunnels as audience members returned home.

Seeing Fun. live demonstrated that perhaps the mainstream music industry today is not as far gone and contrived as the cynics claim it to be. It appears that genuine talent still exists and can be highly entertaining live. Although the lyrical subject matter might not be anything high concept or too difficult to chew on, the band name lives up to the exact feeling radiated by their performance: an uncomplicated, straightforward good time, period.

Contact Ryan at rkoehn@dailycal.org.

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Svelte in a skintight jumpsuit, Kolar supplied the sex appeal and vocals — granular, not honeyed — in short, deliciously unorchestrated. She performed alongside Rob Kolar (vocals and guitar), Lauren Brown (tap dance and drums), Oliver Newell (upright bass) and Aaron Robinson (slide guitar). However, the electromagnetic hum that usually develops- between lead singers with good chemistry did not quite materialize because, unlike pseudo sibling bands before them (re: The White Stripes), lead vocalists Rob and Rachel are indeed related.

Their music, which has a vaudevillian quality (in both the auditory and aesthetic sense) sounds part glam rock, part folk. “Tales That I Tell” featured tap-dancing drummer Brown, who, by engaging every limb (simultaneously tap-dancing and striking the drums), appeared as, “an octopus drumming” as she herself has labeled it. As if to neutralize her energy, Robinson performed slide guitar masterfully but with catatonic stillness. “It has come to be common-place in the indie scene for performers to be cool, casual, and under-expressive,” bassist Newell said in an email interview. “I don’t have any complaints about that, but I do see that we don’t fit that convention.” Certainly not. His hair sleek from sweat rather than pomade, Kolar skittered across the stage with his guitar, often just shy of colliding with a smiley, glitter-lidded Newell, who was using the stem of his painted bass to pivot around, dancing barefoot in animal-print leggings. Kolar, in carnival regalia (striped pants and a bowling hat) found enthusiastic acolytes in a group of dancing girls in the front right of the audience, who encouraged his sartorial choices (“Yeah, take that jacket off!”).

Aside from the lull in the amp-lugging intervals between sets, audience engagement — namely dancing — was a significant part of HMBSMS’s appeal Friday night. “I love to dance and celebrate, and that’s what I’m doing onstage,” Newell said. “That’s a big part of what we’re all doing. I love that sometimes people are inspired to join us.” Dancing is precisely the idea behind their latest album title, Nobody Dances In This Town: “Town after town, we’d visit and often get the crowds moving, “Newell said. “After the show, people would frequently come up and say something like, ‘Wow, that was a great show!  People were actually dancing!  Nobody dances in Portland!’ We heard it over and over again in Cleveland and San Fran and Tampa and Houston. Naming the album Nobody Dances in this Town is a kind of tip of the hat to all our dancing friends across the country.”

Lazy comparisons liken the quintet to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, with whom they toured last year. Both groups certainly foster a convivial quality that is conducive to a communal listening, yet similarities largely end there. Even superficial differences emerge: If Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros seem to have tumbled out of a caravan headed for Burning Man, then we could say that HMBSMS wandered past the perimeter of their circus tent. But when it comes to crucial criteria like sound and quality, where Edward Sharpe sounds dated and focus-grouped, HMBSMS have managed to maintain some sense of the occult — which we can only hope modest venues like The Independent will continue to preserve.

Contact Neha at nkulsh@dailycal.org.

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Avi Kaplan, Scott Hoying, Kirstie Maldonado, Mitch Grassi and Kevin Olusola began performing together as Pentatonix on the third season of NBC’s a cappella singing competition “The Sing-Off.” Week after week, the band impressed the judges with cleverly reimagined renditions of pop hits like “OMG” (Usher), “Love Lockdown” (Kanye West) and “E.T.” (Katy Perry). Judge Shawn Stockman, of Boyz II Men fame, told the group, “I think you guys were sent back from the future to save a cappella and do it in a futuristic way,” after their innovative performance of The Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star.” The quintet went on to win the entire competition, have since released their debut EP, PTX Vol. 1 and are currently on their second national headlining tour.

Although they now perform with the polish of established a cappella predecessors The Manhattan Transfer or The Hi-Lo’s, all five members of the band did not meet properly until 24 hours before their audition for “The Sing-Off.” The original trio — Hoying, Maldonado and Grassi —  began singing together in high school and garnered some positive attention on YouTube with their a cappella version of Lady Gaga’s “Telephone.” In a phone interview, bassist Avi Kaplan explained how the rest of the group got together.

“(Scott) wanted to try out for ‘The Sing-Off,’ but he needed a bass and a beat boxer,” Kaplan said.  “They found Kevin on YouTube. He had a video of him playing cello and beatboxing at the same time. They found me through a mutual friend and we all got together the day before the audition … things definitely clicked right away.”

Their chemistry may have been instantaneous, but the band is not necessarily looking for the immediate fame of other television singing competition winners like Kelly Clarkson or One Direction.

“I think that our success is different than theirs,” Kaplan said. “We’re kind of trying to build it slowly, build our fan base, and just do it our own way.”

Their own way seems to be working, if a sold-out show at the Warfield is any indication. As soon as Olusola dropped the first beat of the Swedish House Mafia opener, the entire venue (filled, for the most part, with adoring “choir nerds”) exploded with enthusiasm. Expertly coordinated lights flashed on and off to complement pauses in the music, while brightly colored lasers stayed right on pace with Olusola’s robotically consistent beatboxing.  With one headlining tour already under their belts, Pentatonix wanted to improve upon their live performance and expand the entertainment level of their shows.

Kaplan was enthusiastic about the changes, saying: “The live shows are totally different. We try to make it sound like a full band and I feel like we really pull that off.  I think the musical factor is something that keeps people really engaged, but now we also want to have a visual factor … For our last tour, we really didn’t have very much choreography, but for this one we have choreography and staging and lighting.”

The set list for the night included numbers from “The Sing-Off” as well as covers from the Pentatonix YouTube channel, like renditions of Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop” and the brilliant Justin Bieber-Katy Perry mash-up, “As Long As You Love Me/Wide Awake.” Always eager to appease their fans (who call themselves Pentaholics), the group took a poll on their Facebook page to pick a band to cover. ’N Sync won out, resulting in a deliciously infectious pop medley of the boy band’s greatest hits, including “Tearin’ Up My Heart,” “Bye Bye Bye” and “Pop.”

Although known for their covers, Pentatonix also performed several original songs which were written by members of the band. Kaplan described their song writing as “a really organic process” — one which he hopes will lead to heightened popularity for the group.

“We really want to try to break into the mainstream and try to get our original songs on the radio. We just want to be looked at as separate artists, not as an a cappella group. Basically, we see ourselves as a band that just happens to use their voices.”

Unlike traditional pop bands, with Pentatonix, it’s impossible to pick a favorite. Each vocalist adds something special to the impressive wall of sound. Throughout the night, all five singers got their time to shine. Hoying, despite being a self-declared “choir nerd,” showed off his swoon-worthy, soulful vocals while singing lead on almost every song. Grassi delighted the crowd with his falsetto “wah-wahs” on the opening of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On,” while Maldonado held her own as the group’s only female with some impressive belting on “Dog Days Are Over.” Olusola combined a classical cello performance with his signature beat boxing and Kaplan showed off his ability to sing two vocal parts at once, a feat otherwise known as Mongolian throat singing.

The show ended with a dynamic version of Nicki Minaj’s “Starships,” adorably censored with Grassi’s quip, “Bad Mitches like me is hard to come by.” As the audience filed out of the venue with tour merchandise in hand, pockets of inspired singing erupted along Market Street. Pentatonix may not have a mainstream following yet, but with their boundary-pushing sound and flawless live performance, these “choir nerds” may just be the next big thing in pop.

Contact Grace at glovio@dailycal.org.

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Performing with renowned British pianist Kathryn Stott for their second Cal Performances concert together at Zellerbach Hall, Ma’s playing was set off brilliantly by the accompaniment of Stott’s arpeggiated sweeps and emphatic chords. Since meeting Yo-Yo Ma in 1978, when she returned to her rented flat finding “a Chinese man in his underpants playing the cello” (Ma did not realize someone else was sharing the flat), Stott has been a close collaborator with Ma, winning Grammys with recordings like “Soul of the Tango” and “Obrigado Brazil” and touring with the cellist. Their musical reciprocity is clear. The thin wedge of cello sounds interlocked with the staircase percussiveness of piano notes to produce a stunning musical duotone.

Starting the night with Igor Stravinsky’s “Suite Italienne”, the sixth movement of the 1919 Neo-Classical ballet “Pulcinella” and ending it with Johannes Brahms’ Sonata No. 3 in D Minor, Ma and Stott framed the concert with elegant European classicism. Between these displays of stately poise, the pair played several South American pieces that highlight Ma’s eclectic repertoire, which includes such disparate experimentations as American bluegrass, oriental Chinese and traditional African melodies. The concert might have offered a greater look at the grandiose versatility of Ma’s music had it included more of these less conventional sounds, but for a night of classicism, the arrangements played successfully ran the gamut of emotions. The cello, with its rich range, was played with a sensuality that brought to mind Man Ray’s 1924 “Le Violon d’Ingres,” that ever famous photograph of the female muse whose curved back evokes the very instrument Ma plays as though struck by a muse.

Watching such a talented artist at work, one wonders if Ma just knows performance like the back of his hand or if he genuinely feels the music. It is probably the latter that accounts for the vivacity with which he plays, but the former is undoubtedly true as well. Having played for eight United States presidents, starting with a performance for President Eisenhower at the tender age of seven, Ma is no stranger to recognition.

In spite of being accustomed to performing for large audiences as well as winning Grammys and a slew of other honors, Ma’s performance on Thursday night made it clear that his craft has not fallen even slightly into the perfunctory or tired. A genuinely captivating performer, Ma’s motions swept from delicate long notes to impassioned bariolages and to playful taps of the bow. His very facial expressions were indicative of the wide spectrum of feelings that gripped him throughout. At the end of one song, when he drew the bow across the strings with the softest graze and then back across again, piercing the silence with a single note — that moment and the ensuing release was the one in which the audience awoke from something truly mesmerizing.

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Formed in 2008, the Los Angeles-based band is a continuation of the music scene which elapsed from yester-decades. And it’s not even corny in the your-creepy-uncle’s-middle-aged-cover-band kind of way. Their sound is actually refreshing in this lo-fi-drenched, electronica-layered, blog-circulated sonic environment where we currently live.

In a strangely poignant outburst, one rowdy enthusiast in the crowd shouted, “real rock’n’roll, baby!” And as so many YouTubers bemoan the loss of “real music” in the top comments of music videos, the Sons’ throwback seems like a universal godsend.

The band’s musical authenticity doesn’t derive from their cultivated appearance of perfectly choreographed rock god stances or custom-made blazers. Rather, it’s all in their soul. Not in the metaphysical sense of the word, but more like, “dang, you can tell they’re really feeling the music.”

Front man Jay Buchanan’s emotionally-charged, breath-defying wails created a synergy when combined with guitarist Scott Holiday’s mastery of his strings. The trick to pulling off old blues rock is to swerve gracefully between rollicking grit and soul-baring slow jams. And they did just that. Songs like “You Want To” built the audience into a head-banging frenzy and, within minutes, broke into the soft, gospel-influenced plea of “let me in.” You know the music is good when soaring riffs and sore sentiments flow organically.

Their stage presence was a fitting accompaniment to the aforementioned tonal shifts. There was a Dionysian quality to the band members’ enrapture in their performance. Yet, Buchanan exhibited that he has moves like the actual Jagger (not just Maroon 5 backup dancers) via rapid foot shuffling.

At some points during their generous hour and forty-five minute set, the band moved into free-form jazz territory with their stream-of-consciousness jam sessions. Buchanan’s voice rivaled Holiday’s guitar and Robin Everhart’s bass in the challenge of hitting the most complex notes. The band just makes you want to rev a motorcycle into a really badass sunset. That’s generally the vibe you should get from hard rock.

Their sound might not be forging an original path, but they tread along a well-noted, nostalgic one. Those with the “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it” mentality would ideally apply it as skillfully as these guys. And they tap into that classic aesthetic in a distinguished embrace of the cliché.

It’s important to note that the Sons – whose latest album, Head Down, hit number one on the UK’s rock charts – played San Francisco for the first time at this sold out show. Granted, the venue is relatively intimate. But it’s a milestone for a band that performs the lyric “this time I’m going all the way” in such a heartfelt manner. Other signs that they’re doing well for themselves: people sound checking their instruments for them, cool Fleetwood Mac-esque typography on a perfectly-aligned drum set and a ridiculously decked-out pedal board.

With such large aspirations and larger-than-life personas, it’s natural to wonder if they’ll make it big in America. Ultimately, their future success lies in whether the rapid progression of modern music can make room for this sound. But if the recent rise of such dirty blues brothers as The Black Keys is any indication, Rival Sons should be able to make their own space.

Contact Caitlin at ckelley@dailycal.org

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