The marquee was lit: Frankie Cosmos was performing at the Great American Music Hall. The hall was gently lit with hues of blue and red; the ceilings were embellished with elaborate molding. It was all so wonderfully kitschy.
Arriving early, my friend and KALX photographer Abby and I grabbed seats at the bistro tables along the edge of the venue. Greta Kline, the lead singer of Frankie Cosmos, has been putting out music since the early 2010s. As I sat on the sidelines, I watched people slowly trickle in—some as groups of teenagers, others appearing to be in their mid-thirties. I wondered when all of them met Frankie Cosmo in their life. Was it through her early Bandcamp releases, or when the band recorded a track for last year’s Margo Guryan tribute album Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan?
Frankie Cosmos was a piece in the mosaic of my senior year of high school. Their music takes me back to the drives to and from school, and to a letter Abby once sent me, listing songs she loved — among them, Frankie Cosmos’ “Moonsea,” and Eiko Ishibashi’s “Drive My Car.”
The evening began at 8pm with Long Beach based indie-pop artist, Emily Yacina. She was on stage along with her backing guitarist, both lit with an opaque magenta light. Yacina’s delicate and airy soprano vocals filled the venue as she performed her older songs as well her recently released album Veilfall. As she performed, the room slowly populated with audience members who gently swayed to her melodies.
For the second act, Chris Cohen, the night was a small homecoming as he told the crowd he’s currently living in Richmond. Cohen expressed that he is introverted but playing music has allowed him to express himself better to crowds. His music blended into one mixture; the songs had a similar tempo and same assurance that purveyed the entire indie-rock set. Cohen’s music was that of a typical rock band, though the crowd did not seem to have struck a chord with his music, as they did not seem to be especially engaged with his music.
It was past nine o’clock when Frankie Cosmos came on stage. At this point, I had migrated from the bistro seats to the front of the stage alongside our Abby. With no barricade, the platform was so close it filled my whole peripheral vision. The set list was just a torn notebook page; its simplicity stark against the guitarist’s colorful array of pedals at my feet. The concert hall was more packed now and I heard the whispers of anticipation for the band’s entrance.
Frankie Cosmos’ latest release Different Talking came out this past summer in June. It was a self-produced album created by the band over the span of around a month in upstate New York. They lived together in a house, writing and producing the record in a shared environment. Unlike Kline’s earlier demos, when Frankie Cosmo was a solo project, this collaboration allowed everyone to contribute, creating a sense of ensemble that resonates throughout the music.
It certainly felt that way during their performance, as all their musical parts seemed deeply personal: Alex Bailey’s catchy guitar melodies on “Porcelain,” Hugo Stanley hitting the cymbal with a tambourine instead of a drumstick, and Kline casually waltzing over to the keyboard to play a cheeky tune. Kline’s soft vocals balanced out the rock rhythms and instrumentals, creating such a wonderful juxtaposition. The balance and mixing between the different voicing and instruments were better in person than through my headphones: the music melted into my ears and every instrument shined so brightly. The crowd was like a gentle wave, swaying with the tempos of the songs.
Her newest album feels like a coming-of-age journey, oscillating between her naivety in the song “Porcelain” and the self-assuredness she expresses in “Wonderland,” where she sings she is “older than before,” “more solid than before,” and knows herself more deeply. In their songs, it feels like we never stop coming of age; we’re on a continuous journey of learning, living, and realizing how much we don’t know. Kline’s gentle vocals continue to charm me, just as her previous works—though this time, dealing with a different set of struggles.
Through Frankie Cosmos’ aural wonderland, the crowd and I swayed in their wonderfully short and delightful musical treats. Mixing in her new album with the timeless crowd-favorites from the past, it couldn’t have been a better night at the Great American Music Hall.
Review by Shannon Cheng, photography by Abby Wang
