This event is 21 and over.
$110.00 – General Admission
*plus applicable service fees
Open bar included in the price of admission.
All doors & show times subject to change.
Poolside began as a recording project in a converted Los Angeles backyard pool house in early 2011, producing sunny tracks of subaquatic indie dance music in this makeshift recording studio. Surfacing first in the form of a YouTube video for the catchy track “Do You Believe?” Poolside were soon gaining local and national attention, with DJs like James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem, techno legend Derrick May, and disco don Todd Terje spinning these tracks at events and a growing online following. Throughout 2011 Poolside continued making waves with a sound called “daytime disco” through tracks like their cover of Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” and original tunes. In 2012 Poolside worked on a remix for longtime disco punks The Rapture and held fans over with a new single and video for a song called “Slow Down” as they prepared to release their debut album. That album, Pacific Standard Time, was self-released in July of 2012.
After the album’s release, remixes for artists like Matthew Dear, Little Dragon and Fool’s Gold soon followed, as well as rehearsing and touring with a live band and doing DJ sets around the world. As thoughts turned to a second album, Poolside went on ice for a year to regroup, beginning to work in earnest on another album in the Fall of 2016. While still revolving around the sunny, laid-back disco sound of PST, these sessions yielded the additions of up-tempo dance songs and more guitars, and generally more fleshed-out arrangements. Poolside surprise released their second album Heat in 2017.
Why must mysticism be considered such a solitary practice — a spiritual union gained only through a single person’s transcendence? Why can’t mysticism happen en masse — some Big, Pop-Mysticism? Only with music has humankind been able to achieve this sort of communion. From the festival to the club to the drum circle, it’s the only place where a modern person can shed the human skin — all our worries, differences and debts give in to the beat, to the moment. It’s almost as if the music of Los Angeles’ Amo Amo’s sole intent is to GET US THERE. Their instantly gratifying, euphoric compositions seem laser-focused on bringing a mess of humans into a space and getting them to move together like a single, pulsating organism.
The human fingerprint of funk swirls within Icy, Balearic synths that melt under South American rhythms while West African guitars wander the desert to find Burning Man in full effect. Then, there are the timeless vocal melodies shared here by vocalists Omar and Love. The writer whose simple, but unforgettable melodies come to mind is none other than Robert Nesta Marley. A bold statement, maybe, but you’ll see. Look no further than the instructive, immediate “Antidote” for proof of Amo Amo’s undeniable power to get the party started. “Move. Love. Dance More” goes the chorus call to action over the song’s pulsing space-funk. The inspired choice to lock the male and female vocals lends a non-binary quality, something more universal and inviting — the way the Grateful Dead (see also: the song’s Garcia- esque solo) left room enough for everyone.
Amo Amo formed in June 2017 when a group of dear friends – the aforementioned Omar and Love, along with Justin, Shane and Alex – got together for an impromptu session in Los Angeles with Jim James (My Morning Jacket). There had been a premonition that the five of them shared a sort of psychic bond that would lead to a revelation in sound. James proved the right ferryman to take them across the creative river to where the revelatory, mystic moment awaited. And now, they too invite us to the other side of The River.
The ferry is a party yacht. Into the mystic.
/////
Amo Amo’s songs are written collectively by all members of the band. Their debut album, recorded in an old house in Santa Barbara county, nestled amongst vineyards and out of range of cell phone service, is set to be released later this year.
