Mediocre oh-so trendy pop punk dreck by three L.A. musicians, who, five years ago, would’ve been a lipstick and spandex faux metal scam called Wyld Hairdeux.
La Gritona are one of Boston’s few good bands, easily levitating over the usual indie swill and three-chord power-pop pablum. Too bad this was their last show.
Sirensong wasn’t my thing. I could hear that the singer hit all her notes. Yes, they had a solid drummer. But it sounded like the same song three times.
Klover played first. Nobody paid attention, they were too busy getting free stuff from the Polygram table. They sounded good though, just like on the album.