Bourgeois Blues: The Last Internationale @ Sayer’s Club, 3/4/14

The velvet rope, sniffling doorman with a clipboard club scene has never been my thing; that said, I have randomly ended up at the Sayer’s Club on a few occasions and recognize that it is a top notch lounge for seeing new, hot acts.  So on a day where I had time to pour through all of the press releases in my inbox, this one regarding The Last Internationale caught my eye.  Normally I am not invited out to classy establishments like Sayer’s; but it probably does not often host acts featuring members of metal royalty.

“We’ve been waiting for you all night” the bouncer smirks as I glide inside; clearly looking a mismatch to the wobbling stiletto contingency.  You now enter the club through a restaurant, furthering the speakeasy vibe of the place.  The room is in rapt attention of a stoic female under the spotlight, bellowing the blues.  It is no other than Rumer Willis, spawn of Bruce and Demi.  I watch her very focused songstress performance from behind a couch full of suits pouring vodka from their bottle service and taking selfies.  Hollywood…what’s your dream?

It’s midnight, and I’m watching Brad Wilk, drummer for Rage Against the Machine and the recent, GRAMMY-winning Black Sabbath album, set up his own drums.  I saw RATM in 1997 and it was one of the craziest shows I don’t remember.  I was excited to see this band based on what I had heard on Spotify and the few exuberant statements out there comparing the band to The Dead Weather, whom I love.  I was trying to envision what the vibe of The Dead Weather would be with the drummer from RATM rather than the drummer from The White Stripes, and it was a bit of a head scratcher.  I heard someone discussing the band next to me, saying that since their last show, they had kicked out the keyboardist and bassist…which gave the night the vibe of a comedian’s ‘working on material’.  They still seem like they are trying to get the formula just right…

The Mardi Gras beads and libations decorated the room at the end of Fat Tuesday as vocalist Delila Paz began to work everyone into the palm of her hand.  Sexy, soulful words emerged, backed by a smokey guitar and the tight rhythm section that included special guest Brendan O’Brien on bass, who’s pretty much had his hands on every ’90s album that meant something to me, from Stone Temple Pilots to Soundgarden to The Black Crowes.   Wilk oscillated from letting loose to restrained perfection.  Within the 20 minute and 6 song set, I was dazzled.  The vibe was there, and most of the songs were there; of the less infectious and more mood-enducing variety.

As the final notes played, it was the perfect, bite-sized blues rock evening.  As I immediately bounced outside the velvet roped scene, I had no idea I had been sharing space with the sole spawn of my favorite rock star. Hollywood…off to dream…