First show of 2016, people! And boy, if this is sign of what’s to come this year, we’re in for another fantastic 12 months of live music. This was my second time seeing Ty Segall and my first time at the new Teragram Ballroom, and I was just blown away by both.

This venue (by the same folks who crafted the Bowery Ballroom in NYC) was literally the most perfect space. It took into consideration everything you would want in a modern venue. Two real bars, another one in the performance space, stylish as all hell, great lighting, amazing sound, and though a smallish space, it wasn’t completely stuffed with people. Everyone stood politely, swaying to the grungy, glammy licks, all it in it together. It was just a perfect live music viewing experience.

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So basically it was the exact opposite of the first time I saw Ty Segall perform. That was in London at this mildly grimy club in Islington (who knows if it’s even still there). It was also my first time observing a mosh pit. I felt like an old-school anthropologist watching from the sidelines, looking at people thrash into each other but then help someone up if they fell. I went into Saturday night’s show expecting that same trashing, but as it turns out, LA crowds are milder than London ones. How’s that for smashin’ stereotypes?

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Ty was bloody fantastic when I saw him in 2013, head banging and tearing it up, so I was excited to see what he would bring to the table this time (especially because I think he’s released 150 albums since I last saw him. I can’t keep up. I love the guy but, hot damn — he’s giving Lin Manuel Miranda a run for his money). What the LA crowd got this time around was less rock and roll smash fest and more performance art.

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Ty Segall came out on stage wearing the creepiest baby mask, crying and screaming at the audience, spitting on the stage and asking where his mommy was. At one point he even brought out what I thought was a rubber snake before realizing, oh no, that’s a rubber umbilical cord. Because of course it would be. Then he talked about being a father, saying he had four kids, and then talking in a high squeal about how he remembers being an infant child and how he possibly is still an infant child.

The dude be fuckin’ nuts. And I loved every minute of it.

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Ty Segall’s stage presence is so electric and weird. He’d switch from being completely still, staring menacingly at the audience, to jumping and banging and leaning out into the crowd and sometimes jumping out to them. I found myself thinking through the weirdness, “I wonder if he just goes home after shows and watches The Bachelor?”

Segall and The Muggers played mostly his newer stuff off the fantastic Emotional Mugger. The album is less of the garage-rock grunge I first fell in love with and more dirty glam rock. To be honest, it was sort of perfect at this particular moment considering Bowie died a week ago and I can’t seem to shake this feeling of sadness.

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If you haven’t had the chance to see Ty Segall perform live, do it. Next time he’s playin’ LA, just do it. Stop what you’re doing and go. It’s so worth it. He’s such a fantastic performer. No matter who he is playing with, everyone is at the top of their game. It’s always a great night and experience. Both times now I’ve left feeling that high of great music and showmanship.

To see Ty Segall is not just another gig; it’s an immersive experience. It’s part rock show, part performance art, and all parts genius.

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Learn more about Ty Segall and the Muggers.