As I make my way into the GA pit, I catch a glimpse of DJ Crenshaw, who sits on a ledge above the ballroom. While sitting at the bar, I can hear the thumping of punk music coming from the ballroom. Behind the bar sits pictures of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, Debbie Harry, The Smiths, and The Ramones, which makes the venue feel reminiscent of the 70s legendary punk club, CBGB’s New York punk scene. Its wallpaper was black with metallic bits poking through. I have a feeling it’s going to be a good show. We stand in line and wait for the doors to open. But, this venue feels truer to the sound of the band, which is a perfect mix of extremely loud noise-rock and psychedelic rock.
I’ve seen Ty Segall once before at the Lobero Theater in Santa Barbara. I feel a warm breeze, smell the scent of the taco truck which awaits for hungry concert-goers, and see the reflection of a slowly dimming golden light on the shiny skyscraper across the street.
My friends and I arrive at the venue as the sun is going down. Some of the women wear baggy, high waisted light-washed jeans, cropped tank tops, and boots, others wear vests and bright colors in their hair. Most of the men wear black or dark blue jeans and vintage t-shirts with faded logos and small holes around the shoulders. They are, for the most part, dressed in dark clothes. It’s Thursday, July 7th 2022, and there is a line of young people waiting outside. Tall buildings with intricate scaffolding designs tower over this modest venue, which is just a 10 minute drive away from the heart of Downtown Los Angeles. The skronk is fabulously full-on, but Segall’s Beatles fixation comes to the fore on sweeter-natured swirls like When I Met My Parents (Part 3) or Ice Plant, lightening the assault but not sparing the senses.The Teragram Ballroom sits between a convenience store called Rosa Mini’s Market and a dry cleaners. Tracks such as I Worship the Dog (dogs are a recurrent theme in Segall’s work) simultaneously peddle protean sludge, ticklish percussiveness and heady drones. The double-drummers are key, too: Segall’s in the left-hand channel, while frequent collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Charles Moothart is in the right. Magnificently, songs like Taste or The Fall are only energised by these diverse sonic signatures. First Taste – which might be Ty Segall’s 12th solo studio album (it depends how you’re counting) – adds a music shop’s worth of exotic instrumentation and double drummers to this Californian’s driving, sprawling oeuvre. G arage rock made with saxophone, mandolin, Japanese koto and bouzouki? Most garage-inclined albums, even those of the psychedelic persuasion, don’t often leave the traditional band configuration.
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