Man, Some of Those Rilo Kiley Fans Are Bad News
We'd always thought of Rilo Kiley as a band hazy with L.A. cool, and it's true, they aren't into between-song soliloquies--Lewis, in her spangly dress, was short on banter, saving that for lyrics that gained a second meaning at a live show. When she sang about out-reaching arms, arms shot up all over. Rilo Kiley songs often feature yearning women making "bad choices" and ending up not quite sure what happened there. Frog-kissed, there's still no prince. (They're also conflicted about money and sex appeal; "Dreamworld" had us wondering what Lindsay Buckingham has been up to lately.)
In front us were a quartet of 30-something women with office-bob hair, clutching purses, who were not hazy with L.A. cool. They clasped their dimpled fingers as a favorite song began, or turned and mouthed the words to each other, or, not wanting to take their eyes off the stage, simply batted each other's shoulders. They clapped above their heads and shouted, "Oooh, it feels good to be free!" We felt blessed to be in their presence.
Next to us, a pair of hobbit-sized teenage girls were metabolizing alcohol in radically different ways; one was going off like a boozy rocket, bouncing off the people packed in around her and screaming bits of lyrics, her arms flying up in punctuation, while the other stood glassy-eyed and acted as a buoy for the other to cling to when she lost her balance or needed to text. When our friend got tired of being run into and asked Juno to calm down, the moppet yelled, "YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" and jumped up and popped him in the face.
Later, Juno and her pal bounced into the women in front of us one too many times, and one straight-armed her. Juno came back at her like Lily Allen, but the woman just swept her aside. Women who work in administrative capacities are not to be trifled with. Rilo Kiley saved "Portions for Foxes" for the encore.
