By Brandon Bussolini
To borrow from writer Jessica Hopper, the nature of the Internet is to refer. Before I encountered San Francisco’s Lazarus as a Web entity, I’d seen them open for Beach House at the Swedish American Hall and had met the band’s vocalist-personality, Trevor Montgomery, a couple of times.
He’s super-tall, not a giant but approximately when dressed in a too-small trenchcoat buttoned up all the way to the top as he was when I first met him through my friend Yoni. A long face with attenuated features, he’s like a half-remembered Æon Flux character. The music I later heard Lazarus perform – the band started as a collab with Marty Anderson, but the lineup live and in the studio now includes Sacto natives Kelly Nyland and Kathryn Sechrist – was harrowing and gooey. Spacemen 3 can make opiate addiction sound like a religious experience. Lazarus, on the other hand, makes music where using, being broken down and waiting for redemption isn’t any more attractive or transcendent than, like, a John Ford rewrite of Waiting for Godot.