Live Review: The Internet, Jaala

Adapting the bedroom vibes of their recorded output to the live arena has obviously been a considered effort for Los Angeleno neo-soul crew The Internet and what they lose in subtlety, through the presence of live instrumentation, they make up for in chops this evening. Chops galore. Chops on display right from the jump as they launch into opener Get Away with surgical precision and a flurry of paradiddles. Vocalist Syd Tha Kyd (Sydney Bennett to her folks) is the epitome of laidback cool as she floats around in her own merch (points deducted, no exceptions) and uses her Aaliyah-esque tone to lead partner-in-crime Matt Martians and their white-hot band in three straight cuts from last year's fantastic breakthrough Ego Death. Tunes from this record are met with redoubled cheers all night and it becomes clear early on that there is as much cautious curiosity flowing through The Corner tonight as there is genuine fandom. Hands do go up early, though, as the crowd — an interesting mix of backpack-toting late teens, discerning community radio types and cautiously cool middle-agers — begin to loosen up.

Something goes down side of stage that catches Bennett's attention (as well as a few suddenly engaged security guys), but it's all smiles when it transpires to be nothing more than an overly exuberant dancer. The guards go back to handing out water to the sweaty front-rowers who waited patiently through an accomplished set by local buzz band Jaala. The Internet's particular brand of accessible jazz virtuosity has been gaining popular momentum for quite a while now, led by the likes of Kendrick Lamar, Kamasi Washington and Frank Ocean. As a fellow member of the OFWGKTA massive, the latter's work can be traced back to the night's most memorable tune Girl — a one love torch song just as affecting as Ocean's Thinkin Bout You, which touches on Bennett's orientation — but, much like everything else she achieves tonight, never overplays the point. As a result, by the time we've reached late highlight Penthouse Cloud, a "black lives matter" ballad during which we're encouraged to raise our lighters or torches (the irony of a band so cheekily named asking us to raise our smartphones while preaching the death of personal ego gets a little lost in the moment), the majority of casual observers have been effortlessly converted.