The Chapin Sisters played the Bordello last night. I got there, but too late to see them.
I literally stumbled into a show of these sisters a year or so ago, when my friend Maya invited me to come along to the Echo after a bunch of us had been drinking at El Cid. Walking into their set was like walking into a group of angels singing–their harmonies were so pure, and yet they plucked banjos and guitars like pros. That’s what they were, real professionals, who put the rest of the hipsters on stage that night to shame (and for the record, I adore hipster bands who dabble in folk, even when their reach exceeds their grasp. Yes, I’m kind of talking about Winter Flowers).
Anyways, the Chapin Sisters have an album coming out soon and a residency at the Echo in March, and I’ll definitely be there for both. I’ve already been listening to their six song EP for a year or so now, and the cover of Britney Spears’ “Toxic” is not even the best song of the bunch. For a trio of women in their thirties, they sure do know how to capture the wonder and pain that comes with young love. Maybe they get their joie de vivre because two of ‘em have a dad who makes his money playing concerts for kindergarteners.
Last night I did get to see the follow-up act, Kind Hearts & Coronets. I’m a little biased (okay, way biased–I used to be in the band) but these songs are incredible, and really need a more fleshed-out band to give them their due. Specifically, they need drums and trumpets. Last night Asa and his acoustic were accompanied only by Eric on lead guitar, flanging away with weird sound effects, and Darren “my Myspace photo is a picture of me pointing a gun at you” doing percussion with just a wooden box thing from Pier 1 and a ring on his finger. It was pretty cool, but it needed more punctuation than an imported foot stool could provide. The album “Rampart Castle” (which I didn’t play on) is still one of the most amazing things to come out of L.A. in the last five years though.
While I was trying to watch the band, I accidentally sat in this guy’s chair: