Detroit Bar – Costa Mesa, CA
Live Review: 3/22/11

One year ago, Toro y Moi was a lonely one-man band. Typical of the suppressive “chillwave” label into which he was unwittingly lumped during his debut album and tour, he would station himself behind his DIY laptop setup and methodically pace through karaoke renditions of the electronic synth-based, reality-blurred songs that defined his record Causers of This. It was an admirable gesture to take his solo bedroom musician act to the stage – there’s no doubt that this genre of music is difficult to translate into a live performance – but it made for an altogether forgettable act and was more evidence that lo-fi homemade music had too many limitations. At the time when he first erupted onto the scene, Toro y Moi seemed to be doomed as nothing more than an opening act buzz band that would be pigeonholed into the come-and-go tide of the chillwave genre.

Tuesday’s sold-out performance at the Detroit Bar in Costa Mesa tore away almost all of these misconceptions, thanks to the addition of a backing band and a set list that largely favored tracks from his accomplished sophomore release, Underneath the Pine. Toro y Moi, the moniker of 23-year-old Chaz Bundick, has finally stolen the spotlight as a headliner of his own tour after finishing a set only a few days ago at the illustrious SXSW.

The night started off impatiently with Cloud Nothings, who are currently on tour with Toro post-SXSW because they share his Carpark record label. The foursome from Cleveland cranked out muddied power-chords and hurried through a mish-mash of bratty songs that felt as if they had been put on fast-forward. This wasn’t surprising considering that the fresh-faced teenagers played 10 shows in the span of three days at last week’s festival and might be feeling the after-effects, but it made for a repetitive and rushed listen that at times felt a little battle of the bands-ish. Cloud Nothings is fronted by Dylan Baldi, who sang through nasal-tinged vocals and who looked and sounded as young as he really was. At only 19 years old, Baldi would not have been able to set foot inside of Detroit Bar if he wasn’t performing. His admittedly catchy hooks and jerky guitar riffs were well-intentioned but started to exhaust by the end of the set.

Detroit Bar’s website boasted that there would be a “special guest” opening in addition to Cloud Nothings, but it was widely known in the crowd that Montreal-based band Braids would be playing. Before they took the stage, Braids gathered together in an endearing group hug turned even more syrupy-sweet by the fact that the band started out as best friends from high school and consider each other as family. Lead singer Raphaelle Standell-Preston stood at the front of the stage, affectionately wearing an over-sized grey T-shirt with the words, “Toro y Moi” scrawled in hot pink.

The first song, “Lemonade,” combined layers of soft, pulsating beats with spirited, hypnotic vocals to create a soothing atmosphere of stunning experimental music. Trilling out hauntingly sweet songs that levitated above the listless crowd chatter and the occasional cheering from Lakers fans watching the game at the bar, Standell-Preston seemed completely immersed and enveloped in the cadence and flow of her voice. Then, as soon as it began, it was over. “We are Braids and we are done.” Standell-Preston smiled before gracefully stepping off of the stage. Being suddenly released from Braids’ spellbinding set felt like being abruptly woken from an otherworldly dream.

And then there was Toro y Moi. Clad in a simple white T-shirt and his recognizable pair of clear coke-bottle glasses, Bundick calmly walked on stage with his band mates and without any context, burst into the first new song of the night, “New Beat” – a song that could tie in seamlessly with the old album but had a new tinge of organic ‘70s psychedelia and disco-pop that makes songs on Underneath the Pine so great. Rather than treading back into heavy, slurred synths with hazy vocals that were prominent on Causers of This, Toro took a more raw and expanded approach to making clearer, groovier music. The results rise above the chillwave genre but still maintain traces of the nostalgic ambiance of his respective style. Not to mention, it makes for a more captivating live performance. Toro y Moi continued to play a set peppered with crowd favorites including “Talamak” and “Low Shoulder” to an audience that mainly consisted of contemplative head-bobbing rather than outright dancing, although a few people up front had their hands thrown in the air.

At times the songs felt distant, as if there was a wall separating artist from audience, but there was always a sort of charming and unassuming anonymity to Bundick’s low-profile character. It is exactly his shy and unpretentious nature that makes his voice sound honest, which is important when he starts to reminisce about his personal life to the audience, as in “Still Sound” when he sang, “There was a finer life when I was with my friends/ And I could always see my family/ That’s what I still want now / Even if I’m here and I know they won’t be waiting.”

Toro y Moi ended his set quietly and without playing one of his most popular songs,“Blessa.” The audience, unfulfilled, clamored for an encore; people kept stealing hopeful glances at the side door through which Bundick had left. Maybe it was because he was winding down from the recent exploits of SXSW or maybe it was because the crowd did not show enough adulation, but it became apparent that there would be no encore and no “Blessa” when the venue lights came on and the audience started dispersing. Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile show full of beautiful soundscapes on an otherwise ordinary Tuesday night in Orange County.

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http://www.myspace.com/cloudnothings

http://braidsmusic.com/

http://www.toroymoi.blogspot.com/