Kevin Bronson on November 10th, 2008

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A few songs into his headlining set Sunday night, Beck thanked the near-capacity crowd at the new Club Nokia for venturing to downtown Los Angeles. “Although,” he deadpanned, “if you grew up here, you wouldn’t recognize it.”

“No kidding,” a native standing nearby me said, underlining the general consensus I heard on the venue’s opening night: Nice place … kinda reminds me of Las Vegas … sounds fantastic … look at all this room … too bad it’s in a mall … can you believe what’s become of downtown L.A.?

On a night the Lakers were trouncing the Houston Rockets across the street at Staples Center, and the Who were resurrecting their past across the plaza at the Nokia Theatre, Club Nokia — the 2,300-capacity venue nestled on the corner of Figueroa and Olympic — was baptized with performances from two of Silver Lake’s finest. Jenny Lewis and her estimable sextet (that included Farmer Dave Scher on lap steel) kicked things off serenely before giving way to Beck’s 75-minute, hit-loaded set that reaffirmed his genius as a musical changeling.

Beck will reprise his performance tonight at Club Nokia with a very different opener — Memphis garage-rocker Jay Reatard. That show is sold out.

On Sunday, the star of the show was the venue as much as Beck. A two-hour VIP soiree preceded the show in Club Nokia’s upper lounge, a swank, glowing room on the fourth floor of the four-level venue (it resides on levels 2 through 5 in the building it will eventually share with a ground-floor Lucky Strike bowling center). The paint was barely dry in the new club, and the staff was understandably still in dark about a few of its eccentricities, but problems seemed to be minimal outside of a couple of unruly patrons and the occasional sound-system hiccup.

The main space itself is not unlike the House of Blues, minus the hilariously fake decor. A gently tiered main floor, with a wood surface, affords decent sightlines for the standing-room crowd (and four flat-screen TVs more than compensate for any obstructions). A long bar traverses the back of the room, lit by soft neon that changes colors every so often. It somehow stops short of being garish.

Like the Knitting Factory or Key Club on steroids, Club Nokia has a mezzanine level, except this one features stadium seating — all the way up to the fifth level, where another color-turning bar backs the room. Thankfully, you know how good your tickets are up there; the first few rows have leather seats, but you’ll rest your fanny on cloth farther up.

You’d never know you were in downtown L.A. — except that near the back of the room, and on the smoking patio, you catch a whiff of something familiar. Yes … that’s it … let’s go have a bite at the Pantry.

Here are a few more snaps from Sunday night:

The VIP lounge on the fourth level.

The upper bar, in blue.

I told you it changed colors.

The view from the mezzanine.

Olympic and Fig, from the smoking patio.