From studio hermits to space-rock lifers
Failure are a Los Angeles trio who blend heavy guitars, roomy bass, and drifting melodies into patient, spacey rock. After a breakup in the late 90s and a long quiet stretch, they returned in the 2010s and kept building on
Fantastic Planet with new work like
The Heart Is A Monster and
Wild Type Droid. The show tends to move from slow-bloom openers into big, singable hooks without rushing. A likely set pivots on staples such as
Stuck On You,
Another Space Song, and
The Nurse Who Loved Me, with a modern edge from
Counterfeit Sky. Expect a mixed crowd: long-time fans in well-worn album tees, newer listeners who found them through playlists, and younger faces drawn by
Quannnic. You may notice heads down during the quiet segues and a shared grin when the fuzz pedals kick in. Trivia worth spotting: Greg Edwards often plays a Fender Bass VI on tunes that blur bass and guitar roles, and Ken Andrews' day job as a mixer shapes their dialed-in live balances. For clarity, the songs and staging ideas mentioned here are informed guesses and could shift from show to show.
What you might hear and who shows up
The Failure Constellation Around the Stage
Quiet focus, shared nerdom
The room leans dark denim and black tees, with a lot of
Fantastic Planet artwork and clean, unfussy jackets. Phones come out for the choruses, but many pockets of the floor just close their eyes and ride the low end. When
Another Space Song drifts into the bridge, you hear soft shouts of thanks more than chants, then a respectful hush before the drop. The hook of
Stuck On You turns into a tidy group sing, not loud, just sure of the words. Fans of
Quannnic tend to pack the rail early, swapping set notes and making room when the changeover hits. Posters lean toward stark lines and planets, vinyl reissues move fast, and small items like enamel pins and picks trade hands between friends. It feels like a scene that prizes craft and memory, with
Failure as the steady center rather than a nostalgia act.
Signals from the merch table
The Failure Engine, Live and Loud
Slow burn, big payoffs
Ken Andrews' voice sits clean and steady, often double-tracked just enough to feel wide without getting hazy. Guitars stack in layers, with one line dry and cutting while a second runs through long delays to paint the edges of the chords. Greg Edwards swaps between bass, baritone tones, and a Bass VI to glue the low end to the riffs, so the songs feel heavy but not muddy. Kelli Scott keeps the pocket deep, pushing choruses with tom rolls that rise like a wave rather than a crash. Many tunes start sparse and add pieces each verse, which makes the payoffs in hooks like
Stuck On You feel earned. A lesser-seen touch: they often keep a wet/dry split on guitars, so big effects never swallow the core riff, and transitions use noise beds that echo the album interludes. Visuals tend to be cool and dim with abstract starfield clips, serving the sound instead of stealing the scene.
Little choices, big impact
If You Like Failure, You Might Like These Too
Kindred orbiters
If you like the thick yet skyward pull of
Failure,
Hum hit a similar lane with big guitars, patient tempos, and a calm vocal focus.
Quicksand brings a tighter, post-hardcore snap, yet their live low-end punch and melodic grit speak to the same crowd that craves weight and clarity. Fans of texture and precision often cross over with
A Perfect Circle, who share moody dynamics and carefully paced builds. For those drawn to sci-fi shimmer and rhythmic swerves,
Autolux connects through tone experiments and hushed vocals that bloom under volume. The overlap comes from how these bands value melody without losing heft. They also favor shows that breathe, letting feedback and delay hang before the next hit. That patience is the common thread, and it is why the rooms feel focused rather than frantic.
Why these fits make sense
