By Owen Tindall

Slogging through Los Angeles traffic after work on Friday, I arrived at the Moroccan Lounge a few minutes before showtime. Just as I stepped into the restroom, the piano line from Kinji’s track “windburn” began. I turned around to see the band, and never looked back. 

Cooper Kinjiro Sifert, who records music as Kinji, quit school back home in Iowa in 2024 to make music full time. I’m glad he did. Drawing comparisons to Quadeca with his frenetic production, what separates an artist like Kinji’s songcrafting is his patience. 

Shrouded in a fog of mystery, Kinji broke through with his second EP “Thunderhead” last November, the quick followup to his debut EP “Kinjiro” from June. Few would know it by listening to him, but Friday marked his first ever live performance. Kinji’s unprecedented rise through the indie scene, just like the symphonic expansion in his music, comes unexpectedly. Like a gentle breeze foreboding a coming storm, his songs start tempered and restrained, before exploding into dazzling brilliance. 

Kinji takes his time to create worlds of sound, slowly building calculated instrumentals and lush vocals, keeping us in the eye of the storm, the calm and serene, before pulling us back through. Eventually, the storm lets up, the sky opens, and a rainbow appears. But it’s been there the whole time, hidden behind the Thunderhead. 

Swapping between keys and guitar during his debut live performance, Kinji’s balanced vocals and soft presence allowed him to effortlessly draw the audience in for an intimate 40 minutes. His bandmates, drummer Oliver Cooper and guitarist Dan Harris, doubled as support for Derby, easily playing two sets of distinctly different music back to back — nothing to scoff at. 

Last year, Derby had what felt like a breakthrough moment at this very venue opening for dream pop phenom Love Spells. A sold out Moroccan Lounge for his first ever show in LA, watching Kinji felt like history repeating itself. This show had that same powder keg energy; it’s rare catching lightning in a bottle — rarer still for it to happen twice.

Almost a year since I saw him last, Derby made his long awaited Los Angeles return this past Friday, this time as the headliner. After a handful of shows in New York, and two singles dropping a week earlier, it’s clear that Craig Caldwell has been ramping up to something big. Expectations were high, and Derby didn’t disappoint. 

For someone with “Slugger” in heavy rotation all of last year, Derby’s set felt like a greatest hits compilation. He bounced from song to song, never letting off the gas. His strained vocals combined with a pitched-up backtrack provided a glistening dissonance that reverberated throughout the room. Working mainly off the album, Derby paused to perform “I Wasn’t There” from Kevin Abstract’s “Blush” and his two new solo efforts, “Ambrosia” and “Stepping Stone.” He capped the night with an unreleased song, prefacing that it would be out on the new album. Playing it four times, he worked it again and again until he found perfection.

All throughout the evening, I kept trying to pin down what felt different from his performance last August. It was Derby, sure, but he was more confident. Attempting new vocal slides, he gave himself more room to play around. That self-assured, boyish charm was on full display, easily forming a connection with the crowd from the get-go. 

With the Moroccan Lounge being such a small venue, the show’s atmosphere was heartfelt and intimate. And that was it, the secret ingredient that made this show stand out: friendship. The elusive difference was the crowd. They were the fourth member of the band, singing along from the first track to the last. Derby fed off the crowd’s energy too, constantly asking the audience to sing along to every word. When you include your fans in your music, it’s hard to ever lose them. Whatever Derby has in store, his fans are already on board.