Contributing writer: Louis Elfman

Hollywood, California — Those familiar with Los Angeles know that Silverlake is one of the hippest parts of town, and their annual Sunset Junction Festival is a reflection of that. The line-up this year was just about the most varied, genre-wise, that I have experienced. The performers at each of the three stages was handled by a different person, and it was like listening to three different mix tapes, created with the utmost care, wrapped up and handed to the audience.

While my tastes would normally tend towards everything playing on the “Bates Stage”: Cold War Kids, !!! (Chk-Chk-Chk), and Broken Social Scene, after my initial wandering of the fair, I was stuck at the other end of Sunset at the “Sanborn Stage,” enjoying Rock en Español and some of the more worldly music.

After two days of strong sunshine and perfectly chilled evenings flooded with sound and the potpourri of food stalls, I take away these distinct memories: More ’80s style than was ever seen in the ’80s, the best tacos al pastor I have had since driving down to Ensenada last month, and the exceptional performances of Menomena, Antibalas, J Davey, and her royal highness Sister Nancy.

Menomena is hard to describe. The Portland trio differs wildly from your average indie trio. Combining uniquely somber harmonies with driving beats and baritone saxophone riffs, they overlay striking vocals that deliver incredibly intelligent lyrics. A song can start slightly discordant, then is backed by percussion that sends it almost into a march, and can transcend to an otherworldly choir sound and reduce itself to a delicate piano melody.

Each of the band members are strikingly talented and instrumentally flexible, and all contribute vocally. They played almost every tune from their most recent album, Friend and Foe, and tossed a couple new ones to the crowd. I invariably experience a live band whose album I have liked and decide I am just as happy listening to them via stereo. Menomena is not that band. I was blown away by the strength of their live sound.

Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra was introduced as following in the tradition of Fela Kuti, and the description certainly is apt. The 11-member band has it all: strings, keys, a horn section, and several percussionists. While it was initially off-putting to see the band was mostly scrawny white men from New York, they are so effective in capturing the spirit and energy of the late great Fela that you rapidly forget such a minor detail as you’re swept up in the raw rhythm they produce, almost magically transported to Lagos in the early ’70s.

That’s not to say they’re strictly a tribute band. While Amayo, the conga player, served as singer for some of the songs, guitarist Marcos Garcia took the mic for one song, seamlessly transitioning from rhythm guitar to the limelight of the center stage.

In fact, an additional element that seems to put Antibalas apart from other groups, especially as large as they are, was that no single person dominated the performance. Each member of the brass section got his solo, Marcos had his song, and when Amayo wasn’t singing and dancing, saxophonist and band leader Martin Perna served as a discreet conductor.

J Davey was a group we just chanced upon during a slot we had nothing planned for. Jack Davey is a slim, mohawked lady — think Annabella Lwin from Bow Wow Wow — with silky skin and a voice to match, fronting the six-piece band. Two drummers played in tandem behind her, along with a guitarist, a bassist, and the “mastermind behind the sound” on synth — Brook D’Leau. Their sound ranges from ’70s soul to ’80s pop, flavored with electronica, punk rock, and often bordering on hip-hop.

They were astonishingly good at drawing from so many influences to create something unique, and the singer has not only the vocal range but is absolutely elastic in her stage presence, as she dances between stylistic strains. Their sound is hard to define, fitting in at times with half a dozen different genres but never settling on a single one. Danceable at moments, they never fully give in to the obvious pop roots that spawned them, choosing instead to pursue the wild and chaotic vein that permeates their music (one of the tracks played was a cover of Sonic Youth’s “Freezer Burn” — the influence is undeniable).

Finally, after waiting nearly an hour and a half for reggae legend Sister Nancy, we were rewarded with a painfully truncated performance, yet it would have made an entire day of waiting worthwhile. Despite being 30 minutes late for her set, she was a real delight to watch. She was regal in every line on her face, graceful in every swaying movement, and she brought cheering with every flash of her gold-toothed smile.

Her set was less of a defined series of songs and more of a free-form jam. The DJ jumped (sometimes skittishly) between tracks, and Nancy eased effortlessly from one song to another, pulling sections and segments together to form a narrative of her experience. It felt personal and intimate; she was sharing her story with us, even when going into a brief rendition of “Pass the Dutchie.”

She started with “Ain’t No Stopping Sister Nancy,” exclaiming her right to be where she was, having paid her dues “since she was 15 years old.” It is a claim that someone younger would have made at their first glimpse of success, still feeling their recent struggle to the top. Coming from the mouth of a female musician, the meaning seemed to broaden, expanding to include the song itself. There is a reason her songs are some of the most popular Reggae songs ever written. Coming from a very male-centric musical culture, you have to give props to someone whose songs are almost as well known as Bob Marley’s. Sister Nancy sang with pride and conviction, and I was more than moved — I was convinced.

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