Space Between Words' Laser Light Show at Bardot

To some, laser light shows are like watching a Windows 95 screensaver on repeat for an hour. Those people are, clearly, not high. The tokers and tab-droppers of the world, meanwhile, know that laser shows are awesome and come second only to peanut butter-marshmallow-banana sandwiches. But at garage-y local band...

By Gabriela Garcia

April 18, 2011

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To some, laser light shows are like watching a Windows 95 screensaver on repeat for an hour. Those people are, clearly, not high.

The tokers and tab-droppers of the world, meanwhile, know that laser shows are awesome and come second only to peanut butter-marshmallow-banana sandwiches.

But at garage-y local band Space Between Word's Laser Light Show, the two factions seemed equally entranced.

Half the crowd was a hyped, sweaty mass that responded to chants ("Fuck Fox News!") and danced. The other half seemed mostly affixed to a shiny rotating laser lamp that projected concentric circles of dots that looked like colorful space-ants doing a mad rush all over the ceiling. Well, that second half responded to some chants, too. But it was mostly to front man Steve N.W.'s periodic check-ins: "Who's fucking high out there?!"

The show opened with a premiere of the group's music video for "Red and Yellow," which will be uploaded to YouTube on Tuesday. It was visual porn of a more literal type, featuring two people, covered by a sheet, artfully getting it on while the camera pans over them and the lyrics "together they made orange..." drift in the background. "We basically convinced our friends to have sex in front of us," Steve explained after the show.

Following the video, the lights dimmed, the lasers went crazy, and the four bandmates eased into a frenzy of spinning and jumping to "Crazy As a Fox," "Overcomplicated Mind," "The Beast," and other tracks off And We All Follow the Sun, chosen as a runner-up in Crossfade's list of best local albums of 2010.

Just coming off sets in L.A. and SXSW, the group seemed more polished than ever, playing off the crowd and riding a crescendo of panicky mayhem before winding down to mellow grooves in which lead singer Steve leaned in close to the microphone and Verdi killed it on the guitar.

Then, with no advance warning, the lights beamed onto the 300-person crowd, people rushed the performance area, and a psychedelic dance party took off beneath twinkling lasers and clouds of smoke. "Oh shit, my equipment," Steve exclaimed, as two wobbling girls with drinks in their hands spun circles around the pedal boards and a speaker. He shrugged, picked up the gadgets, and kept on dancing.

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