For this reason, trading in her guitar for a synthesizer was probably the best decision Harper could have possibly made. And after seeing Class Actress perform on L.A.’s The Echo, this belief was solidified. The Brooklyn-based electro-pop trio released its debut album, Rapprocher, last year to acclaim (it made my “Top 5 Albums of 2011” list), and each infectiously catchy dance track translated flawlessly from record to performance. As soon as Harper stepped foot on stage, adorned in leggings, heeled ankle boots, an over-sized blouse, blazer and trench coat, every person in the audience had his or her eyes fixated on her. Although the band is still relatively new, here, she was an icon.
The band began its set with “All The Saints,” a buoyant ‘80s pop revival track. As soon as the music started, the venue turned into a dance party. Backed by bandmates Mark Richardson and Scott Rosenthal, Harper flaunted across the small stage, trailed by a fog-machine induced shadow, with sex appeal oozing out of her pores. Microphone in hand, she danced and clapped and urged the audience to do the same, which it did without hesitation.
As the set progressed, Harper began peeling off her wardrobe, layer by layer, conducting a peculiar indie goddess strip tease of sorts, until her coat and blazer were crumpled on the ground. She teased the audience by tugging on her button-up blouse, toying with the idea of discarding that garment as the threesome propelled through the majority of its freshman record.During the last song of the set, Harper went primal, swinging her small keyboard off its stand and collapsing onto the ground, pounding the keys ferociously, causing uproar of applause and screams as the band exited the stage. “Class Actress,” everyone chanted in hopes that the three-piece would return. “Seriously, it’s a mess up here,” Harper groaned as she climbed back up, kicking away the clothing strewn across the stage. “We’re going to play one more song.” The crowd burst into applause as the band began playing the sex-drenched track, “Limousine,” to end the night and keep The Echo begging for more.