“A little punk, a little party band, a lot of fun. That’s how they describe themselves – “fun rock”. Mission accomplished.
[… ] Baby Baby (I do NOT get the name) opened strong with a heavy arena rock intro. Thick drums and guitar rhythmically smacking you in the face for no apparent reason other than to let you know they’re there. Super high energy. Drums and percussion laying down thick beats counterbalanced by an overlay of more psychedelic riffs from the keyboards. Head banging apery with the chaotic coherence of an H.B. Halicki car chase.
The music stands more or less on its own merits but I think it’s fair to say that Baby Baby as a live experience is all about front man Fontez Brooks. The brash young turk has some stones and a solid knack for pageantry. Whether it’s ego, talent, raw enthusiasm, not giving a fuck, or a healthy combination of all of the above, his commitment to engaging the crowd is unimpeachable – even if it means ripping them a new a-hole.
The real obstacle for Baby Baby is that the crowd in attendance on this particular night wasn’t at the Mayan for Baby Baby. A couple of “Bro Hymn”-esque choruses played well to the many Pennywise fans, and in the end I think they managed to win over the haters but nobody seemed all that amped on them. That’s LA though. A dance floor full of music aficionados keeping vigil with a subtle head nod and arms folded in a self-embracing bro-cross. […] Can’t blame that on Baby Baby though. The dudes brought it hard and I’d love to see them on their home turf and playing to their own crowd. They throw a lot of good energy out there and any audience that gives a little more back would be sure to go home hot and bothered, in a good way.”