The name Bikini Drone evokes two recent interests: music that only makes sense in tropical climates, and music that sounds like washing machines wrote it. In the context of a patio with loud overlapping conversations, Martin and Yahn’s vocals sounded like more instruments in the ensemble, which included saxophone player Owen Evans. The timbre of their voices conveyed less lyrical stories and more added a tenor section that helped punctuate their bandmates’ funk-disco jams. The band’s tempo and energy waxed and waned with the audience, with the same symbiotic exchange DJs process on a dance floor in real time. People got up to dance at the two-hour set’s height, but six to eight of the two dozen patio guests stood rotating watch, swaying or at least nodding to the beat.
