Sand City West End Celebration, 8.22.09

Every city in California (that I know of) has something like this every summer. All the art farts get together and sell their dumb art, some of which is actually not dumb at all. There is music and half-good, half-fried food and many people wearing crocs and walking their dogs and buying unflattering post-hippie outerwear.

I happened upon this celebration with my dad a few weeks ago, and it was actually quite enjoyable. He got me a few mini-posters from the 60s to add to my ever-burgeoning collection from the Fillmore. After an hour or so of wandering and encountering unwashed heathens and an AARP blues-rock band with age-appropriate groupies, we finally settled at the main stage where Champagne Sunday was about to swing for the fences.

When I saw that the band had a day of the week in their name, I basically dismissed them in my head. Taking Back Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday—they’re all taken and they all sorta suck. It’s unbelievably contrived to try to match your name to the name of a forgotten band.

From our spot in the back row I saw an unassuming drummer, an equally unassuming bassist, a scraggly lead guitarist with a 30-year-old face and 17-year-old hair, and then there was the frontwoman. She was like Kelly Osbourne, except she clearly didn’t have enough money to make the wack clothes at least fit her properly. This girl was wearing one of those awkward string shirts that simultaneously falls apart and holds itself together. Kind of inappropriate for a family gathering, I thought. To match that, she had ill-fitting black skinny jeans, a studded belt that she had to have purchased at Hot Topic like 4 years ago and decided earlier this summer that it was cool again, and blonde/pink hair. In all fairness, I expected some dim-witted No Doubt imitation that turned into a screamo-fest with lots of jumping.

What I got, however, was a pleasant surprise. This band was so far from punk, emo, and goth that it would make Ashlee Simpson-Wentz jealous. The band was incredibly tight, considering their ages, and the two lead singers (the most ill-clothed of the bunch) blended perfectly when they sang together. Jessi, the girl, had just the right amount of humor and confidence for a frontwoman, and her voice was absolutely stunning. Not once did she sound like she was trying to channel Grace Slick or do her best Barbra Streisand. She sang all those twangy, country-rock-style (yep!) songs in her own voice, and it was damn refreshing.

My dad and I walked away in the middle of their set because we were starving, but we were also blown away. We got to brainstorming about them and, because we are related, thought about ways to help them, considering our clear expertise in the field. Though I jest with that wording, I’m sort of not kidding. My dad is in marketing and, well, someday I’d like to try my hand at promoting musicians, if I ever got the chance and did it right. So Champagne Sunday, if you’re out there, take this advice not personally but to heart, because we really thought you were great. And we think you could be even greater if you just changed a few aesthetic things.

1. The name has to go. “Champagne Sunday” sounds like the name of a song by a resentful Catholic schoolgirl. Maybe you were her once, Jessi, but your band name needs to be short and sweet. A plural noun, a last name, whatever. “The Kinks” or “The Smiths” or something like that. Let people judge the music after they listen to it.

2. Jessi: Let’s compromise. You’re not a punk band, so don’t dress the part. You can still express yourself without wearing a studded belt. Opt for heels—you’re the star, and you should stand out. Wear a color. It doesn’t have to be lavender with bunnies on it. Try forest green. Maroon. Anything to make you look older. A dress might not be so bad, either. You’re in an earth tone band. Stick to those. But you can totally keep the hair. It’s you.

3. Jared: Cut your hair. And get rid of the peace-sign shirt. I watched a video on your website and you were wearing it there, too.

4. All: You clearly care about your music, so why not care about your presentation? Matching is a very mod thing to do, and I wouldn’t recommend it. But would it kill you to wear a button-down instead of a tee? Your instruments are all color coordinated. Why can’t your wardrobe be, too?