Words and Photos by Kae Cox
The lights don’t cut out all at once. Instead, they dim slowly over Pacific Electric’s somewhat industrial interior, settling into a warm, amber glow that spills across the stage and out into the crowd. The space feels new. You can tell it hasn’t fully settled into itself yet. Tucked into an alleyway, it still carries that just-opened energy. People are figuring out where to stand, how the room moves, what it feels like when it fills up. There’s something especially fitting about that. This brand new venue is hosting a band playing their first real album in nearly two decades. Voxtrot hasn’t released a full-length record since 2007, and now they’re back, stepping onto a stage that’s just as new as the music they’re playing.
When they walk on, it’s casual, like they’re stepping back into a familiar routine. They pick up their instruments, exchange a few glances, and after a couple words to the crowd, they ease into “Another Fire.” It’s a new track. The guitars are still distinctly Voxtrot, but it’s slower and more reflective, less urgent than their earlier songs, but not in a way that loses you. They follow it with another new one, keeping that same tone. The crowd sways more than it jumps. Heads nod instead of hands shooting up. It’s a different kind of energy, but it works.
Then a shift happens. They move into “Raised by Wolves.”
Before it starts, Ramesh pauses for a second and says, almost offhandedly, “This is an old one.” The reaction is immediate. The room lights up. The opening riff barely has time to settle before the crowd is already shouting the lyrics back at the stage. My favorite moment of the night comes right before the outro of the song. Ramesh sings into the title of the song, “We are young and stupid and raised by wolves,” and the audience howls at him. It seemed like a tradition, the band smiling back at the crowd after. They continue with older material, people singing along, cheers erupting during the beginnings of most songs as they’re recognized.
“Dreamers in Exile” comes in with a burst of energy that feels different from the earlier new songs. It’s the title track of the new album, but it doesn’t feel separate from the rest of the set. If anything, it sounds the closest to their older work. They follow it with “Babylone,” another newer track, this time, returning to that slow, soft sound.
At some point, I step away from the floor and head up to the balcony.
From below, everything is close. There’s no barricade between the performance and the crowd, so it feels extremely intimate. But from above, the perspective shifts. When Voxtrot begins “The Start of Something,” their most popular song, the entire room comes together. From the balcony, you can see everyone dancing and singing along. It feels like you’re watching the audience as much as the band.
From there, they close with three more older songs. Each one lands harder than the last. The crowd sings just as loudly, if not louder, than before. It’s that moment in a concert where people know the show is close to wrapping up, and they want to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. When the show eventually does end, no one moves.
Then the room slowly starts to break apart. People turn to each other, talking, replaying parts of the set. Some linger near the stage, others head toward the exit, but no one seems in a hurry to leave. It’s hard not to think about how much of the night depended on contrast. A band returning after nearly a decade, balancing new songs with ones that people have held onto for years. A brand-new venue, hosting one of its first shows. There’s something about that overlap that makes the night feel special. Voxtrot may have taken a break, but it seems the connection their music creates hasn’t gone anywhere. Just as their most famous song is titled, it really feels like the start of something new for them!
Loudspeaker Collective 