“Do you know what you want to be for Halloween?” Prince Rama’s singer/guitarist asks early on in their set, before adding, “I think I wanna be a mirrorball.” Looking at her, you’d think that was her costume since her dress was a silver sequin number, along with a sparkly headband holding back her heavy bangs. Prince Rama’s intentions are great: blending Native American tribal drumming, Eastern Indian mantras and cathartic howls, fantastical synth bits and a dose of pixie dust to make a cacophony of a melting pot played by the likes of two sisters, Taraka and Nimai Larson, and one guy, Michael Collins. It’s all a little bit Kate Bush meets Bat For Lashes, a little bit Gang Gang Dance, but sadly, the voices constantly seemed off pitch so any attempt at musical grandness became kitsch, at least tonight. During one point in their set, the other sister, drummer of Prince Rama, thanks Apache Beat for opening the show (we missed them, sadly), and mentions that her band missed the boat on the Native American themed name. Perhaps yes. But Prince Rama is certainly an improvement from their original mouthful, Prince Rama of Ayodhya.

The true cosmic dance party only began when Neon Indian took the stage. At this point, Brooklyn Bowl was packed and filled with half Halloween revelers, half frat types looking to pick up gals in itty bitty costumes. The night improved the more we focused on the stage and sound and let Alan Palomo’s theremin as well as his pulsating beats, dreamer croon and the band’s spacey pop take over.–Selina S.