The sound systems in Los Angeles usually have a tweeter out or some other such ear jerking clamor rattle out from their speakers. I have never in my life heard a sound so clear, so full and so ranging than from British folk singer’s Teddy Thompson’s acoustic guitar and honeyed voice, as I did at the Largo.

I drove past the Largo three times, even with my GPS suggesting its coordinates were not far, at which point I’d pass it. One sign flashes vertically, blinking “Theater” and another small sign without lights, “Largo,” is some ways beneath. This place rules.

Red velvet everywhere with burgundy walls and no bar, the Largo is fundamentally one of the last traces of class leeched from the old jazz theater days we can find here in Los Angeles. And for British folk/blues singer-songwriter Thompson, all seats were occupied. The house filled up absolutely with people that came to hear the music, which can be a pretty novel purpose these days on a Saturday night in the city.

Thompson’s voice resounded with a rhythm that only comes from a practiced musician devoted to his addiction – to melody, to harmony and sound. His voice is comparable to that of Jackson Browne, or notably, Chris Isaak or Buddy Holly.

But this night it was Thompson alone with his guitar, belting it out with lights in his eyes to a pitch black room of a hundred people or so, with chills that could hail a storm.