Secondhand Setlists

Wearing your own merch while you perform? Groundbreaking!

How to Dress Well, the alias of musician Tom Krell, may be one of the most engaging and simultaneously unassuming acts I’ve ever seen before. Rather than orchestrate a grand appearance, Krell merely moseyed up to the stage and climbed onto it, the only fanfare being the electroclash provided by BATHS.

Watching Krell basically involves joining him within his creative process. Wielding two microphones and two synthesizers, Krell constructed his Anteroom within the Lodge Room. The screens behind him, created by Justin Duushaar Hopkins, alternated between amoeba-like shapes, glossy skulls, crystalline designs, and some of YouTube’s weirder deep cuts. Though seemingly random, the images made sense, particularly the hazy clouds that appeared during “Words I Can’t Remember”.

Vocally, Krell sounds lovely, never reaching for notes outside his range, though that’s not to say his range is limited. “Ceiling in the Sky” showed off his soft but soothing falsetto, though he just as easily snarls and screams into his mic at other moments. Blending R&B with dance elements from house to drum and bass, Krell crafts a bizarre but compelling dancefloor, one I would have utilized more had my camera not been in my hands.

Also unusual were Krell’s bits between songs, moments that felt part-stand-up routine, part-confessional. After a bit of research, I see he does this quite often, though I had no idea. His topics ranged from LA’s homeless crisis to his Aunt Joan saying he should DJ their relative’s wedding. “Low-key I didn’t bring a lot of non-downer stuff to do,” Krell admits, ironically producing laughter from the audience.

True to his fashion, Keller ended his set by walking into the center of the Lodge Room, where he launched into an a cappella version of Iris Dement’s “My Life”. Intimate and emotional, Krell’s rendition silenced the whole room, which eagerly awaited each word. He finished with a brief thanks and strolled off the floor, just as unembellished as his initial entrance. Certainly unconventional, Krell presents new ways that the concept of performance can be defined and appreciated. As the crowd cleared, I heard more than one person remark on the “amazing” and/or “awesome” show they just witnessed, one that Krell conversely downplayed at every turn.

He never made the show out to be more than what it was, him and his music, and for those of us listening, it was more than enough.