I had been waiting to see LA-based garage band Rumspringa for a looooooong time. I finally caught their show last weekend, which I unregretfully chose to attend over the array of other tantilizing last-night-of-CMJ showcases, and it damn well lived up to the hype.

Rumspringa tore through a set of high-octane, dance inducing tunes that can only be described as sweaty, dirty, rock and fucking roll. The band enchanted the crowd of seemingly already-loyal fans who had probably seen Rumspringa play a million times already, and always came back for more. Not a single patron in Club Love stood stagnant during their set…though, half of them were on E.

Next up were Violens, who dazzled with delicate, almost trance-like pop songs. I was enjoying the set until we all got a little irritated with their singer, who…well…I don’t know if he was having a bad day, or what, but acted a little ridiculous. In this city, the only shit that’s gone down whilst shooting has been between overly-zealous photographers yelling at other people to move out of their way and the kind-hearted photographers like myself who are all there to do our jobs and don’t take ourselves too seriously. This time, I was shooting up front with a tiny camera and NO flash, in front of the singer, and he asked me to move, or something. In between songs. He was like “come on, you can’t stand here.” So let’s get this straight.

I can’t stand below the stage, in front of you, taking pictures of your band, who I was about to write an awesome review about, who I payed to see because your PR people messed up and didn’t put me on the
list for, even though I am REALLY broke? Okay.

(Note: during Rumspringa’s set, kids came on stage to dance, and about six photographers including myself were crawling all over the stage shooting, and the guys loved it.)

Then, to top things off, staff at the club came over the loudspeaker after Violens had played just a few songs, and told them to stop playing. While the rest of the band seemed eager to march on, the singer cut them off. I walked over to my annoyed friend, surrounded by other annoyed patrons, who didn’t even notice the singer asking me to move, and the first thing out of her mouth was “That singer’s a
douche!”

I understand that people have bad days and screw up. But when your full time job is to be a performer, and people have paid money and written off their time to come see you play, you put aside whatever
else is going on in your life and extract joy from the people standing in front of you, eager to see you play.

Some things just really irritate me and then I whine about them.

So, conclusively, and if you are keeping some sort of checklist, or
perhaps a scorecard…
Rumspringa: F’n great.
Violens: Really good music, but douchey, or having a bad day, singer.