L.A. RECORD review

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Thank god for the Lemon Sun for they certainly made the most redeeming experience offered by this utter turd of a venue—abused bartenders, unbelievable bathroom lines (free Bud Lite will do that) and thickly populated by flocks of ACTORS (”You should totally come see my play..”). The small performance space quickly became a complete clusterfuck when Northridge-based Dawes hit the stage like a poor man’s Lee Michaels. And by hit the stage I mean the awkward lip-biting, shoulder-clinching and organ-abusing acts seemingly mandatory for all caucasian jam bands. The crowd loved it. They probably really like Dave Matthews, too. Then came Lemon Sun. Girls were hot for the band (and secretly so are the boys). But really, why the hell not? Their deliciously syncopated ‘Hot Rocks’ style compositions are easy to love. While such on-stage guitarmageddon could have been deadly in different hands, each sweet, soul-inspired confection was rhythmically unwrapped and devoured with the most perfect grace. Having risen from the ashes of The Colour some years ago, Lemon Sun have been busy building a solid roster of polished rock gems and, unsurprisingly, a large and varied fan base. Lead singer Rob Kolar rightfully belongs in the brave new generation of blue-eyed soul singers; his frequent comparisons to a young Eric Burdon (or a male Chris Clark) are not without merit. Like P.P. Arnold says in the Marriott/Lane penned song “(If You Think) You’re Groovy”: “Now I know what its all about.”

— Zelda Zap