Klaxons, Mystery Jets at Henry Fonda

Parents today just aren't as strict as they used to be. Case in point: Wednesday night's

Klaxons show at the Henry Fonda Theater in Hollywood. Tons of kids showed up in braces and tight pants to hear the band's oh-so-novel "nu-rave" sound. Apparently nobody's parents really cared that it was a Wednesday night (a school night), and apparently nobody's parents cared that the venue's speakers were blasting out sounds at eardrum-shattering decibels. Ah, parenting in LA.

Klaxon's Simon Taylor | Photo: Elisa Jacobs

Before the aural rapture of the main act took control, British exports

Mystery Jets warmed up the crowd. This lot are more than worthy of honorable mention—especially since the band is confident enough in their youthful bad-assery to have one of their Dads as a guitarist and bonafide member. A lighter, goofier version of the Arctic Monkeys, the Jets' happy-go-lucky piano pop should hardly be relinquished to opening act status. But judging from the success of 20-something Brit rockers, these boys should probably start placing their merch orders now.

Despite it being mid-week and the unstable sound, the kids didn't seem to mind the noise—or their ears had become comfortably numbed—because the crowd jumped and danced like a singular, sweaty, American Apparel-clad mass when Klaxons burst onstage. Opening the show with "Atlantis to Interzone," the young-faced Brits quickly had everyone going berserk, despite the fact that their vocals were near drowned out by too-loud instruments, making keyboardist James Righton's falsetto stylings pretty much inaudible due to the din.

Klaxon's Jamie Reynolds | Klaxon's James Righton | Photos: Elisa Jacobs

The band breezed through "Two Receivers" and "As Above So Below," but thanks to the poor sound quality the Klaxons paeans to the future hardly sounded like Mercury Prize-winning material; the audio component on Disneyland’s Space Mountain would have sounded superior in comparison. Even the absurdly catchy "Golden Skans" was a disappointment. But the crowd didn't seem to care. They got the Fonda's floorboards shaking and even continued to sing the "Golden Skans" "Oooooo, aaaaaah" chorus after the band had finished the song.

While the 20-something Klaxons looked a tad silly in fashions that predated them (choices included a tee-shirt emblazoned with a "Like a Virgin"-era Madonna and a sparkly Studio 54-esque striped tunic) and most of the audience looked like they belonged at a Bar-Mitzvah, the Fonda was a noisy, bundle of energy that pulsated like a wriggling amoeba.

—Elisa Jacobs
09.27.07