Sunday 15th February 2026

Brudenell Social Club, Leeds, England

“… to see them shining,

I do not want

to see their lightning

locked in a cage;

I want to see them live.”

PABLO NERUDA, ELEMENTAL ODES (1954)

The concert reviews I am in the habit of writing usually retreat into the safety of narrative. The night begins, I describe the venue and the atmosphere, the music progresses and reaches a crescendo. Perhaps there is an encore. If there are any standout moments, whether small or grand, I remark upon them. If there are any particularly special songs, I praise them. If there are any remarks or stories from the musicians on the stage, I try to recall them faithfully.

This was true of the last review I wrote of LA LOM, in the Jazz Café in London back in August. But in the days after returning from Leeds for this latest gig, I find myself struggling to do so again. It is not that the night has been lacking in special songs, or standout moments, or vibrant atmosphere. Even the venue, which looked unpromising – a repurposed 1950s social club in a frighteningly run-down part of town – was faultless, its drab, throwback exterior revealing a surprisingly revitalised interior of musical energy and communal strength.

No – instead, the reason why the attempt to write a narrative of the night runs like sand through my fingers is because LA LOM themselves are better described elementally, as one might a lightning strike or breach of sunlight through a dark canopy. Their power cannot be communicated narratively, by describing the cheers as they arrive on stage, the songs they burst into, or the roars for an encore as they leave – roars that are answered with a thunderous, pulsing coda of ‘El Sonido de Los Mirlos’, somehow outdoing the ferocious ‘La Danza Del Petrolero’ and ‘El Cascabel’ which ended their main set. One could describe the dancing throb of the audience, the enthusiastic trills of some of the women in the crowd, or try to evoke the heavy feel of body heat as a mass of hundreds give themselves over to the music.

One could describe the band themselves. An instrumental band; a singular, intoxicating mix of Latin sounds – cumbia, chicha, bolero – with touches of Americana soul and rock and roll. I could describe, on my side of the stage, Zac Sokolow grinning in an open red shirt, his black-and-copper Kay electric guitar barking and singing with the dexterity of a lead singer, close enough for me to see its veneer beginning to wear. Behind him, Nick Baker seated behind a hybrid drum kit of his own configuration: classic drums matched with congas and a cowbell, played with drumsticks and with his bare hands, sometimes with one drumstick while his hand plays a beat on the conga, and sometimes with maracas as drumsticks for an impossibly cool blend of percussive sounds. And, at the far end of the stage, Jake Faulkner all in black, sometimes silhouetted in the stagelights. Alternating between electric and stand-up bass, he is also the band’s cheerleader, jumping and whipping the crowd into heightened motion and howling wild aullidos at cathartic moments of the songs.

And one could certainly collate moments, if only a narrative could be found to hold them. Some are moments common to any LA LOM gig, all part of the passionate show this trio are capable of performing. The familiar live riffs of ‘El Paso Del Gigante’ and ‘Dane Dane Benleri Var’. The similarly recognisable ones of ‘Santee Alley’ and ‘Danza de LA LOM’ pulled straight from their records. The swaying of Zac as he manipulates his guitar into singing, and standing broad-legged as he deploys the heavy Led Zeppelin-esque riff of ‘Alacrán’. The effortless shifts in tempo that allow Nick to run free on his drums. The theatricality of Jake spinning his stand-up bass during ‘Alacrán’, and holding that same massive bass over his head like a colossus at the end of the set.

Other moments are ones that would add flavour to a narrative of this particular night. ‘Angels Point’, the band’s signature song, being played surprisingly early, just three songs into the set; a series of unreleased originals also making the setlist and suggesting their best is yet to come. ‘Alvarado’, introduced by Zac as the first song they wrote together, being one of three songs they play tonight from their first self-titled EP. The moment when Zac opens a metal tin on his pedalboard and takes out a toothpick that he chews on in between riffs; the moment when Nick drops his maracas quickly at his feet as Zac’s guitar launches straight into another song, or when Jake is wrongfooted because of the same – but only for a moment, mind, for all three members of the band can play off one another with ease. And Zac’s other guitar, a distinctive red 1960s National Val-Pro, being placed on its stand by a roadie shortly before the band take the stage, and yet remaining there, completely untouched, throughout the night, as though the worn black-and-copper Kay that Zac carries out instead refuses to be put down.

I can mention all this, but not place it into a simple narrative. LA LOM provide ninety minutes on the stage tonight that is of a power you cannot parse, except in recognising their music as something elemental, that would be better understood by something like the free poetic allusions of Pablo Neruda’s Elemental Odes than by any humble review composed by a man stood in the audience to the right of the Brudenell stage. Elemental then, or perhaps quantum; something that is everywhere all at once, impossible to measure or to grasp except where light shines on it. And how to measure when that selfsame band are the ones bringing the light?

Such is a night witnessing the music of LA LOM.

Setlist:

(all songs from the album The Los Angeles League of Musicians and written by Zac Sokolow, Jake Faulkner and Nick Baker, unless noted)

  1. Café Tropical (from LA LOM EP)
  2. Lucia
  3. Angels Point
  4. Santa Ana Serenade (unreleased)
  5. Los Sabanales (Calixto Ochoa) (unreleased)
  6. El Paso Del Gigante (Albert Tlahuetl) (from Live at Thalia Hall)
  7. Alvarado (from LA LOM EP)
  8. Delta 88 (unreleased)
  9. Cumbia Sampuesana (José Joaquín Bettin Martínez) (from Live at Thalia Hall)
  10. Rosecrans (unreleased)
  11. Santee Alley (from LA LOM EP)
  12. Alacrán (single)
  13. Wilshire Western (unreleased)
  14. Dane Dane Benleri Var (Neşet Ertaş) (unreleased)
  15. Danza de LA LOM
  16. Lorena
  17. La Subienda (Senén Palacios) (unreleased)
  18. Magnolia (unreleased)
  19. 6th St. (unreleased)
  20. Astro Cumbia (unreleased)
  21. Figueroa
  22. La Danza Del Petrolero (Emerson Casanova Sanchez) (unreleased)
  23. El Cascabel (Lorenzo Barcelata) (unreleased)
  24. Encore: El Sonido de Los Mirlos (Gilberto Reátegui) (unreleased)

My other concert reviews can be found here.

My fiction writing can be found here.