I’ve missed out on most of Rock n’ Roll history. While Eddie Vedder was penning his lyrics for some musicians in Seattle and Kurt Cobain was strumming his way into infamy while forever changing the course of baggy pants, I was tucked away in another part of Washington State, listening to Michael W. Smith and George Strait on a Wal-Mart Walkman.
The first time I listened to Led Zepplin was on vinyl in my college buddy’s dorm room and the first time I heard Pink Floyd was (confession time) during the love scene in Martin Scorsese’s The Departed.
So maybe I’m not one to write about the indie music scene.
But I’m going to anyway.
At The Whiskey on Sunset Blvd., I broke out of my soundless cocoon and saw a new fledgling band. It’s too early to say if they’ll find places in Rock ‘n Roll History, but as I watched it became clear that every great (or popular) band starts out on dark, dirty stages, lugging their own equipment and battling to get their band name on the playlist.
That night I walked in late and saw the last few minutes of the first act: an energetic hard-rock group with a tiny screaming girl for the front man (front lady?). I never got their name, couldn’t find them on the schedule, but they played that night nonetheless, with all the vigor and emotional frankness of a 12-Year-Old girl’s diary.
Which is what most bands are, at the start. Formless, unrefined, with only surface level lyrics which they sing/scream/rap with all the conviction of a Baptist preacher.
Then with enough work they form into a band like The Luke Andrews Accident, the other group I saw that night.
Luke and his four band mates represent the next step in standard indie band evolution: they have a “sound.”
They don’t rely on broad teenage angst, they’ve formed an intelligent, upbeat blend of acoustic rock and hip-hop.
As front man, Andrews has a broad-grin charm that’s reminiscent of Jack Black (minus the crazy eyes). Despite the lights and stage, and being surrounded by Mike Rizzuto on Lead Guitar, Rob Blasberg on Drums, and Mike Gunns on Bass, he feels like a friend playing a set at the local coffee shop rather than a performer at a Hollywood hot spot.
But how Accident really distinguishes itself is Eddie Moreno, who joined Luke on vocals halfway through the set. Moreno adds the Hip-Hop freestyle that blends remarkably well with the standard rock sound.
Together he and Andrews form an unlikely duo; Moreno is dark and brooding while Andrews smiles and strums. But somehow it works.
While in some ways the band is still trying to find itself – their lyrics are solid but not profoundly original – they have the musical prowess and undefinable spark that could take them further down the Rock n’ Roll path than the rest of their peers.
For more info:
The Luke Andrews Accident