Saint Motel: Concert Review

Saint Motel is not just any regular LA Band. You don’t just get great sound but visual experience and atmosphere are also included with the package.

This is what I discovered last week when I walked in to Spaceland for their last residency night. The first week had a sci-fi theme, the second week had an erotica theme, the third with an experimental theme – and apparently, this last night had a “slasher” theme. Bones, mummy remnant-like toilet paper had been strewn all over the venue from the moment anyone walked in past the bouncer.

The color red was emphasized to represent guts and grotesque zombie life, and there actually was a fake zombie on stage. These guys had achieved whatever ambiance they were striving for, because every time I looked to the right of the stage, I was forced to do a double-take with that damn zombie.

Known for invoking audience participation, I was excited to see them again for what seemed like the first time. However, I stood in the middle of the crowd just bordering the back because I had a feeling something was going to fly out from the stage. Props to Saint Motel for incorporating their film studies into performances, but I was a bit hesitant to get splashed in something such as, oh I don’t know, fake blood?

Once the show started, it didn’t stop. Coming out in full force behind zombie masks (of course) and blood-stained shirts, the guys of Saint Motel launched into one of their rock anthems. With A/J and A Sharpe commanding the front of the stage and Dak playing it cool on the bass in front of Greg’s infectious beats, my favorite small venue had become one huge dance party.

Shaking bodies, images from classic horror scenes and creepy flashes of the audience in night vision (courtesy of A Sharpe’s mom on hand held camera) bounced off every corner while they kept it all in motion with feel-good classics like “Pity Party” and the vaudeville beats of “To My Enemies.” Yet, the adrenaline started to overflow as they began “Dear Dictator,” a clear favorite of everyone who had been chanting “SAINT MOTEL. SAINT MOTEL” just a few seconds before. Also, I didn’t get the memo, but their last song was supposedly a cue for a silly string attack.

Despite the angelic word in their name, Saint Motel put on one of the most horrifying but electrifying shows to wrap up a month-long residency. Soaring vocals, shimmering guitars, slick bass lines, and marching beats transformed a Monday night show into a Friday night after party. These guys did not disappoint.

Sound like a good time? Check back tomorrow for an interview with Saint Motel as part of our Know Your LA Bands series!