EPSTEIN’S MOTHER

 I rarely like to go out on a weeknight to see bands. Especially bands from Las Vegas. Especially bands from Las Vegas on a weeknight at the Viper Room. The Viper Room is located on the Sunset Strip and gained most of its notoriety when a famous celebrity died on the sidewalk in front of the club. I don’t like it because the door people have an over inflated sense of entitlement and I have to take out a loan to buy a beer there. So this was my mood when I arrived at 10:30 on a Thursday night.
I must say that the band was a pleasant surprise. EPSTEIN’S MOTHER launched into their set like seasoned professionals. I’m sure performing on the Las Vegas strip makes the Sunset Strip seem tame so EM’s laid back, crowd friendly style shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. The pack of fans that had followed them from Las Vegas and the fact that their New York PR team was also there probably didn’t hurt their feeling of well being either. EPSTEIN’S MOTHER is a band on the rise.
Their music, initially, seems to be somewhere between John Mellencamp (early please) and the Gin Blossoms, but in the in the end they have a style uniquely their own. The lyrics, what I could hear of them over the sadly buzzing speakers of the Viper Room, were the stuff of middle class working man rock, but with a precision and depth that is lacking from most music today. “My Favorite Song” has the singer bemoaning his horrible day that includes a truck breakdown, and how he finds a momentary oasis from the world when his favorite song comes on the radio. Corny, true, but who can’t identify? MY favorite song, and the one I wearing out on their CD titled SUBTLE, was “Gone” a haunting tale of abuse with a faint ray of hope.
Overall, I say if you get the chance to see these boys, just do it. They play regularly in Vegas and their shows are listed on their web site
On a personal note, after the band quit and the lights came up, my 40 year old computer nerd husband, who must have stuck out as especially dangerous in his plaid shirt and math professor sweater, got kicked out of the club for pointing a laser pointer at the ballroom light. No warning, no polite “could you put that away, please?” Just get out. If I hadn’t noticed the large bouncer walking him out the door I would have thought he was in the bathroom. I love L.A.

Carlye Archibeque