Growlin' with the BLK JKS

It seemed fitting that two weeks before Halloween, I am seeing Costa Mesa band The Growlers at Spaceland alongside their South African tourmates- and current progged-out wavemakers- BLK JKS. If I had had a chance last Thursday night to ask members of the nostalgia-oozing band what they were going to be for the holiday, it’s a strong possibility that you’d get some great answers.

Functioning in a sort of collective manner, out of a place-of-legend-type large, cluttered Southern California space (full of found-art galore no less) is where the group has shows, rehearses, lives and throws parties. Consisting of four to six members, The Growlers make songs that take a rubbery, lounged-out romp through the garage, surfpop and psych-rock of yesteryear.

Sure, the easiest thing to do might just be to compare them to the Doors and move on, but live, the band has something more that envelops the listener in this sort of fuzzy, grunged-out sense that sure, The Growlers might be a throw-back, but hell, who cares? It’s endearing, at times even strange, wallflower music that doesn’t at all beg exaggeration or showmanship.

When you have a singer like foot-jittering Brooks Nielsen, sounding something like Julian Casablancas with a Bobby Darin croon, onstage singing songs about acid rain atop a jangly, hypnotic guitar strum “last night I dreamed it rained, and nobody complained, and when it quit, no one was ever the same…” there really just seems to be nothing wrong with any of it.

Their fine Spaceland set which included having their records for sale stacked on a box while they played, an added percussionist head-swaying while seated in a beach poncho-decorated chair, surpassed all expectations and left me wanting even more of the growl. Keep an eye on these guys.

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With South Africa headliners BLK JKS playing next I grew eager considering that their debut, After Robots is slowly making it’s way into my best of lists. After meeting singer Lindani Buthelezi and chatting for a while about long days spent recording their debut with Brandon Curtis (Secret Machines) in the snowy fields of Bloomington, Indiana and converting their songs to DJ-friendly club versions, the band took the stage, leaving it oddly empty, amidst a slow build of drum builds and guitar swirls. “Good evening LA, we are the BLK JKS from South Africa,” guitarist Mpumi Mcata said.

After Robots in my book is one of the best albums of the year. Mixing everything and more you could have wanted from a Johannesburg band; afro pop, jazz futurisms, township gang-vocaled blues, dubby drives and a prog-rock undertone, in a live setting, though, the set seemed to slump a bit turning the joyous just-on-the-edge aggression of the on-record playback value (see “Lakeside”) into a heaping swirl of guitar solos, all-to-patient builds and delicate endings.

The show wasn’t bad in the least, just far different from what I had expected. With some of the studio tweaks that help in making Robots such a solid and lush debut; horns, strings or keys, being absent from the mix, the sound overall became more akin to just a chilled-out guitar-heavy prog band soloing it out to each other. In that realm, drummer Tshepang Ramoba put up one hell of a fierce fight towards the end that included a frantic drum solo round-robin that only seemed to be missing a Tommy Lee styled rotating riser setup to have the full effect.

--Matt Draper