Concert Review: Red Cortez and Robert Francis live @ Spaceland (6.12.09)

By Travis Woods

Last Friday night at Spaceland not only acted as a fundraiser for the beloved Taco Zone truck that regularly parks near the Vons in Echo Park (the truck had been set on fire by vandals on June 5), but also served to highlight the sonic pivot point in the sound of two different vital musical forces in Los Angeles—Red Cortez and Robert Francis, who both turned in performances that highlights their recent evolution as artists and performers.

If last Friday night is any sort of indication, the already electric L.A. band Red Cortez has reached a fever pitch of atom-split stage intensity and razored polish—having been on the road for the past several weeks, including an east coast tour with Morrissey, the band has developed a searing tightness and live authority which, coupled with their already galvanizing intensity and collection of searching, powerful songs of introspection and revolt, has pushed them to the very forefront of la la land live acts. Songs such as the epic seizing of “Fell on the Floor,” the hymn-like rush of “All Ye People,” and the wild piano clatter of “End of an Error” were given a new life (not that they were lacking to begin with), as the band attacked them with what felt like a reenergized sense of purpose and spirit. Even better were the smattering of new, unreleased songs that slipped into the set, which bound the anthemic reach of their early ‘Weather Underground’ work with the expansive introspection of their newer Red Cortez material. Translation—see them now in small clubs while you still can (hint: they’re playing a free show at the Hammer Museum on July 9 with Everest).

Displaying a more marked transition of sound than Red Cortez was Robert Francis, who performed as a three-piece and recast his ethereal folk and Americana as hard-edged and bluesy country-rock which, though it may not have been what the overly chatty and buzzed Spaceland patrons had come for, certainly stood as an intriguing new chapter (or one-night detour) in his work, as the music skipped from boozy bar-band rock to rollicking, headbobbing road music that wouldn’t be out of place on a rough-hewn Steve Earle record. Whether or not this is a permanent alteration to Francis’ sound remains to be seen, but, on Friday night, it was a joy to hear.

June 16, 2009 | Filed Under Concert Reviews, Exclusive Features 

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