Cosmic L.A. Cosmic L.A.


From left: Wilson, Griffith and Juliano


me—after a flurry of cards depicting justice scales, she told me that I’m in a place of true balance. (I sure don’t feel like it.) At other times she was spot-on, such as when the Eight of Wands revealed that I have an overarching anxiety about making decisions (yup). Afterward, I sorted a bowl of polished stones based on how their energies felt in my hand, gravitating toward those that supposedly communicate feminine strength and new beginnings. “You have to meet the jewelry halfway,” Holm said when I picked up my stunning necklace a few days later, a slender silver chain that includes, among other stones, a rainbow moonstone (protects individuality) and labradorite (activates innate powers). I asked if anything peculiar has happened after clients wear her jewelry. “Three women have gotten pregnant,” she told me. I ran my hand over my necklace and just hoped it would make me mellower. ■Erin Kuschner à melindaleeholm.com


Time Out Los Angeles January–March 2017


FINDING MICHAEL’S MUSICAL ZEN WITH ELECTRIC SOUND BATH


The sonic assault of My Bloody Valentine’s live reunion tour is the closest I’ve come to feeling like I could reach out and touch sound. It’s the type of attention-grabbing, body-reverberating experience I wanted from my first sound bath—minus the whole eardrum-punishment part. Brian Griffith and Ang Wilson, better known as Electric Sound Bath, put on an amplified version of the aural ritual; crystal singing bowls and Koshi bells play a role in the duo’s performance, but so do modular synth and electric bass. They perform droning, meditative sets for comfort-seeking crowds across the city, but I was treated to a private performance in their personal space. Reclined only inches away from Griffith and Wilson, I felt myself sink into their couch as chimes danced around my head- space and eased me into an escape from


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my suburban L.A. surroundings. I focused on the persistent oscillating tones and synth pulses to try to clear my thoughts; in the process, I kept waiting for some sort of crescendo that never came. It made the following half hour deeply relaxing, without being transcendent; I discovered that my idea of sonic relaxation isn’t in lockstep with being lulled by soft tones. My sound- bath experience made for a refreshing morning—and a tight performance—but by the afternoon my thoughts were again drowning in white noise. I may have been immune to any postperformance curative qualities, but at least in the moment— whether as part of an ambient installation at Union Station or the closing ceremony of the Griffith Park Teahouse—Electric Sound Bath excels at persuading you to slow down and let the music wash over you. And for others, it may well do more. ■Michael Juliano à electricsoundbath.com


PHOTOGRAPH: ROZETTE RAGO


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