Adam Green at The Chapel by Joshua Huver 6
Adam Green (photo: Joshua Huver)

The last time I saw Adam Green was the first time I ever set foot in The Chapel. It was 2013, the first time I was ever going to review a show, and Adam Green and Binki Shapiro had just released their album together, I went with my best friend at the time, who would pass away that same year. It was a sentimental show for me, to say the least.

To say the most, the show on October 4 at The Chapel was everything and so much more than I could have expected. His film rendition of “Aladdin” grabs on to his anti-folk story telling, and creates a new modern life out of a classic tale. The fact that all of the props and sets were handmade was apparent in solidifying it as a cult classic, especially with all the satirical commentary on modern America. If you’re a fan of subtle-but-not-subtle penis jokes, reality TV, musicals that make fun of themselves, and intelligent humor, go stream Adam Green’s Aladdin.

When the movie ended, we all clapped, we all screamed, we all gave our chairs to the staff and ran to the bathroom. The concert proceeded shortly after we had all emptied our bladders — Adam Green by nature is a little loony, and incredibly charming. He came out to the crowd high-fiving everyone he could, and continued to do that throughout the show. No one left without a high five. I personally got high-fived twice. I am very proud of my two high fives.

He sang all the classics, all while ensuring his Aladdin hat was safe. From “Friends of Mine,” to “Buddy Bradley,” to “Give Them A Token,” to “Tropical Island,” to “Dance With Me.” A song from every release, even the movie soundtrack and even The Moldy Peaches classic “Who’s Got The Crack,” which every single one of us sang loudly along to. He asked the crowd for song suggestions and just kept going until it was past midnight and we had to leave.

I made my friend from LA come up to see him with me, because of the main reasons we were ever so close, other than our crippling anxiety and depression, was our love for Adam Green and Kimya Dawson. The crowd all felt like they were on the same mental path as us. Well, maybe not the three possibly-poly people near us, who were dressed as though they came straight of The Doom Generation. One of them looked distinctly like the actor who played Charles Manson in the TV show Aquarius. That specific group of people really made me feel like I was in a cult meeting, but the rest of the crowd’s reaction to Green made it feel even more so like that. There was something about how all of us sang along, reacted to every comment Green made, made sure we high-fived him, and a small amount of us kept him safe the three times he crowdsurfed, made me feel close to everyone. The way he performs leaves you feeling the same a way a good cup of needed coffee does. He’s juvenile, alive, loud, proud, dances like a dog trying to get a treat, does not give a damn, and rubs that confidence off on all his cult following.

I left feeling happy that I got this chance and felt at home in my strangeness — even after my friend lost her car keys and we had to retrace our steps all over Valencia to find them. Don’t worry, she found them on the Uber back my house, in a very discreet pocket.