Backyard Party, a new all-ages venue, lets young people hang out


Audrey Simone stares intently into the dark room, through a curtain of dark hair. 16 year old high school band singer The theory of chem “Laughing Poems”Growing pains“Their song about teenage angst.

Why can’t things just be the same?

The question hangs in the air as the voice fades during the sound checkGuitars soared, drums pounded. That has two meanings here at Backyard Party, an all-ages music venue in an idyllic business park on the border of Pasadena and Altadena.

The band, the venue team and the audience share an inextricable bond of connection. All were affected in different ways by the Eaton and Palisades fires. Some saw their houses burnt to the ground. Others live as outsiders from their communities because their homes in the burned areas are still uninhabitable. And some simply testify to the grief that is still bubbling almost a year later.

Before that rainy November night, the all-female band described themselves as Corruption Grill– Held at many house parties and small-town LA venues nearby. To celebrate the release of this EP, “Nomad scene“Kim Theory chose the backyard party.

“It’s a big deal,” says 16-year-old Lola Seifert, a guitarist, watching the line snake through the door. “It’s a wonderful place.”

When Simone, dressed in a costume made from a trash bag, and Seifert later take the stage with drummer Zoey Sue and bassist Lucy Fraser, the sold-out room vibrates with energy. Young people gather around the stage. The mosquito net came out. Bodies collide in a flurry of knees and flying boots.

Attendees dance in the crowd during Kim Theory's EP release party at the Backyard Party on November 15.

Attendees dance in the crowd during Kim Theory’s EP release party at the Backyard Party on November 15.

The back of the room – populated by parents, guardians and monitors – is very quiet. Linda Wong, 45, a drama mom, loves the all-ages venue because it provides a safe place for young people to experience live music. Nearby, a father loudly shakes his head. Hugs are exchanged between members of the community torn apart by the wildfires of January.

at the Back partywhere live music happens every weekend, the vibes are good, the guest list is family-friendly and the house rules are straightforward. Between the band’s sets, Brandon Jay, a fellow Backyard Party, popped on stage to remind the crowd that the venue was a drug-free zone. For those who do not obey, “you must go,” he declared.

And Kim’s theory is that at night, the residual heaviness caused by the fire remains at the door.

“Music is a very powerful thing,” says Malina Wisbitt, 14, who helped sell tickets for the show. “It moves your emotions. I think that’s really the way to get away from it all.”

Kim Theory Band perform on stage during their EP release party at the Backyard Party.

Kim Theory Band perform on stage during their EP release party at the Backyard Party.

Music creates a second life

The Backyard Party, run by Jay & Partners Sandra Denver and Matt Chet, is inspired by Pasadena’s daughter-in-law The backyard shows that helped launch Van Halen. The next round of Pasadena parties begins in this 1,500 square foot space.

But it’s become more than just a lifetime venue and event space since hosting its first show in September. If you’ve lost your record collection in a fire, you can buy free vinyls from their library. If you’ve lost an instrument, fill a room next to the stage to pick up free guitars, amps and pianos.

Jay, and his wife, Gwendolyn Sanford, who worked together as a composing team, lost their Altadena home, music studio and more than 150 instruments and recording gear in the Eaton fire.

“Everybody’s lost something special,” says Jay, 53. “It’s so hard to deal with”

Backyard Party founder Brandon Jay helps set up the drum set during Kim Theory's EP release party.

Backyard Party founder Brandon Jay helps set up the drum set during Kim Theory’s EP release party.

After the fire, friends began pushing music gear into his hands — small acts of generosity that helped him pull it together. All over Los Angeles, musical instruments sit idle in garages and closets. What if Jay could help match these lonely instruments to musicians in need?

After a week of firefighting, Jay established Altadena Musiciansand friend Instrumentation The app followed in April to connect essential musicians with donors. Jay, with his bouffant curly hair and natural ability to remember the smallest details, became a de facto musical matchmaker.

For the record:

1:33 pm December 1, 2025An earlier version of this article stated that Altadena Music has helped more than 850 people. It has helped nearly 1,200 people.

The process often begins with a personal story of loss and ends with an unexpected human connection made with the need for something small, like a harmonica. Altadena Music has helped about 1,200 people, Jay says. The flow of precious wealth and an extraordinary sense of kindness can be life-changing.

When the Pacific Palisades caught fire, 39-year-old Michelle Bellamy named her Martin acoustic guitar for her beloved Gretchen, before leaving, but then changed her mind. Something told him he would be back.

But the fire took her home — and the guitar she used to learn to write songs. The grief replayed in her mind until Jay found a match: Abby Sher, 80, whose Pacific Palisades home survived. Sher was given a Martin acoustic guitar by her brother at 16. He was never able to part with her until she heard about Jay’s efforts. Then he knew exactly where he needed to go.

In April, Sher arrives at the Santa Monica real estate office where Bellamy works to give her a guitar, renamed Gretchen III.

Attendees listen to the band Kim Theory during their EP release party.

Attendees listen to the band Kim Theory during their EP release party.

Bellamy says, “This guitar gave me a new lease on life in my music. She was inspired to write a song about Palisades Fire about Gretchen III. Of course, she sent Sher a video of her performance.

“I had tears in my eyes when I heard her play and sing that song,” Sher says. “I drive by her apartment, not infrequently, and I think about her all the time.”

Like normal. Just for one night.

No one on the Kim Theory show really wanted to talk about fire. Especially the kids, says Jay. They just want to feel normal.

Some young people prefer actions to words. Ticket sales go toward paying off bonds and funding Backyard Party and Altadena Musicians’ venue and programming.

“Helping can make everyone feel a little bit better about the state of our world,” says 16-year-old Kim Theory bassist Fraser.

Attendees wear various outfits during the band Cam Theory's EP release party.

Attendees wear various outfits during the band Cam Theory’s EP release party.

Vesbit agrees. She helped found the Alta Pasa Project, an organization that helps youth affected by the fires. He and his family are still displaced from their Altadena home.

During the party, Wisbat took a break from working the door to watch the show. She danced and joined the mosh pit. She saw a lot of teenagers hugging each other, even if they didn’t know each other, Wisbeth says. This was her favorite part.

This was the Morrow family’s first time attending a backyard party. They came from their long-term temporary location in Highland Park to perform Kim’s theory. Their Altadena home is standing, but they cannot return because of the lingering smoke and ash from the fire.

Max Morrow, 15, is tired of talking about the fire and the house they still can’t go back to. His younger sister, Stella Morrow, 13, still feels uneasy about grieving something that is still tangible but out of reach.

“It’s a time capsule,” their mother, Mel Morrow, 52, says of their home.

Friends arrive, and he hurries to greet them.

“I mean, we’ll reveal everything,” he says. “Because we didn’t just lose our homes, we lost our community.”

Attendees play in the rain after Kim Theory's EP release party.

Attendees play in the rain after Kim Theory’s EP release party.

Kim Theory’s EP closer “Growing Pains” is a song about a stage in life when you’re not sure if the person you are is proud of your current self, says Simone.

“I feel like it’s something a lot of teenagers can relate to,” he adds.

Tomorrow will be more disbelief, but after the show, teenagers start dancing in the rain in the parking lot.





https://www.latimes.com/

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