Photo by David Greenwald
And here I thought Fleet Foxes weren’t a rock band. Dudes were obviously lying on their MySpace page: Their plugged-in set both rocked with CSN&Y-at-Woodstockian force and reminded the packed house that live sound-a-likes Grizzly Bear played Spaceland just two years ago and are now opening for Radiohead. The shape of things to come? Perhaps. There was a line around the block for this sold-out show even after it was clear people weren’t going to get in, which I initially blamed on that show-ruining Pitchfork Best New Music (New Yorkers and Angelenos: A BNM basically guarantees a sell-out and a horrendous crowd, right?), but once inside, watching the audience dance and mouth the words, it became stunningly obviously that people actually love this band. It kind of made me proud of Los Angeles. Until I found out my car’d been towed. But hey, Fleet Foxes! See them in small venues while you can — if I were a betting man, I’d wager they’ll be at the El Rey or beyond the next time around.