Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros engage their tribe at 10-year anniversary show
Kevin Bronson on
4
More than anything, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros’ show on Friday night at the Greek Theatre reminded the Los Angeles faithful of the big hole they have in their hearts for the period between 2008 and 2010. Everywhere, it seemed, there sprang up bands who, beyond their thoroughly likeable music, engendered a certain communal spirit. Dawes, Local Natives, Fitz & the Tantrums, Warpaint, No Age — they didn’t have fans, they had tribes.
Called gypsy folk, neo-hippie and (by the unbelievers) assorted pejoratives, the Magnetic Zeros were the most tribalistic. Ten, 11, sometimes 12 strong, they were a motley crew with mismatched styles and unmistakable musical chops. They were led by the messianic Alex Ebert and named for a character he imagined in his youth. For Ebert, the entire persona was a 180-degree turn from his time in the dance-rock band Ima Robot — a period, he has said, when the party life got the best of him.
The gathering of the flock at the Greek was ostensibly a celebration of last month’s 10-year anniversary of the release of the Magnetic Zeros’ debut album “Up From Below.” It felt more like a family reunion — albeit one crashed by the likes of Elon Musk, Tobey Maguire and (we think) assorted creatives from mid- to late-Aughts arts collective The Masses, launched by the late Heath Ledger.
There were more stories than songs during the Magnetic Zeros’ 100-minute set on Friday night. To describe the show as loose would be generous — even by their standards, it was ragged, saved by a few jams and some virtuosic moments by singer-guitarists Christian Letts and Crash Richard, each of whom was afforded his moment to shine. Well, those and anytime Nico Aglietti’s brass came to the fore.
While the Greek’s big screens faded from live footage to archival band videos, Ebert stopped and started the music to reminisce.
He allowed as how he was wearing the same white trousers, which dated back to his days in Ima Robot, and which he wore during the band’s underground shows in 2008 at the Regent Theater (pre-renovation). He wondered what ever happened to Cornfed, who drove the bus carrying the band and members of The Masses to Marfa, Texas, back in 2008. He smiled impishly when the Magnetic Zeros played “Janglin,” a song that’s just a key change away from John Lennon’s “Instant Karma” (they spliced in some of it). He kidded about a new album (there isn’t one, but there is Ebert solo material). He warmly remembered the young man suffering from leukemia whom the band brought onstage at Bonnaroo 2011.
But most endearing of all was how he engaged the audience — far beyond the usual call-and-response sing-alongs. Time after time, he went into the pit to ask folks to share their memories. They did, sometimes almost tearfully. The bond between band and fans was clearly strong.
By the time the Greek’s curfew approached and it was evident that the setlist taped to the stage [see below] was just a pipe dream, Ebert had the crowd in his full embrace, even if the singer’s voice was worse for the wear. They rushed through “Home” (Ebert’s duet partner Jade Castrinos did not participate in this reunion) and finally bade everyone farewell, sending them home with a story to tell.
Photos by Matt Cowan
Nicely written.
How many of the songs on the setlist did the band actually play?
This review must have missed the fact that Sharpe was super-messed up. Unless this is normally how they do shows. He was pale, rambling, couldn’t remember lyrics, walked off stage at numerous times. Get this guy some help. It was sad watching him breakdown. Also sad, when the one fan said she had been sober for 2 years and was crying and he didn’t acknowledge it. How this reviewer missed this is crazy. Edward Sharpe needs some help, hopefully he gets it.
Dear “P”, Sharpe does not exist. The person you are referring to is Alex/Alexander Ebert.