The small stage that fits the three members of Sweden's premier electro-industrial band is bathed in red light as the band prepare themselves for the coming spectacle. They don't need pyrotechnics, or dancers. They are simply practiced and pure in honest energetic performance. The great width and depth of the room, crowded with black draped mohawked industrial fans wedged shoulder to shoulder, managing to stay quiet; speaks to the anticipation.
Eskil Simonsson could have started a religion. Looking like the electronic world's answer to David Bowie in a sharp fitted suit, tie, and side swept short blonde hair, he steps on stage a first seeming frail, hand on a cane, but as the show begins, energy pours forth from him.
"Can you dig it?" He asks us in his bassy Swedish accent, his hand held high. His whole persona exudes irresistible charisma and charm, like a preacher before his flock. Simonsson has one thing up his sleeve I've never seen any other performer do so well on stage, and that is inspiring his audience. His confidence seems to cover no ego, and everything he does in his performance is aimed at sharing the energy and the strength with his crowd. He seems to draw energy into himself and feed it back out.
The beats lash out over the crowd as he asks us "Who are you? Who do you want to be? What's stopping you?"
He is endearing, and constantly making the crowd smile. Even returning to the stage at one point armed with a handful of water bottles, barking "Sharing is caring!" and tossing them into the front row. One moment in the set that gave me a swell of admiration for the front-man was quite unscripted- halfway through the band's hour and a half set, a fan scrambles up stage left and attempts to embrace Eskil. The kid is snatched by security barely a step onto the stage, and roughly tugged away. Without missing a note, Eskil taps the security guard on the shoulder and motions with his hand: 'Go easy'. Good man, there.
For those who are fans, which is pretty much everyone in the electronic or industrial scene, you will notice that Covenant sound very different live. Eskil's voice dominates the set. This is so conductive to his center stage antics that no-one will be put off by the change. Indeed, the crowd is practically mesmerized. The response to his calls and supplication that 'We are playing for you!' is resounding agreement from the whole room. The place falls into a deep rhythm as the practiced showmen go about their set, and gives off a mighty cheer at the beginning of fan favorite 'Call The Ships To Port'. Dipping into their latest release for the finale, the show swells to a climax. Eskil slowly retreats from the lights, reclaims his cane, and is gone into the darkness.
Every industrial fan in Los Angeles crawled out from under their respective rocks for this show. The wave of people leaving the venue onto Pico Boulevard at 2AM looks like a lunatic convention. We spot a tall old rivethead with an Einstürzende Neubauten shirt that has probably been worn since before I was born. All is energetic on this layer tonight..
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