Yes, it’s the Birdman of Westwood! A strange visitor from another planet, with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men! Birdman! Who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel with his bare hands, and who, disguised as Jason Finley, mild-mannered cognitive psychology researcher at UCLA, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American Robin!

We caught up with the Birdman of Westwood and chatted over black-oil sunflower seeds on a wooden porch railing.

What sort of childhood catastrophe sparked your interest in birdwatching?

When I was a kid I used to draw this giant bird that walked around upright with a top hat on and I called it the Squawkamole Bird. I also made up a video game I called “Bird’s Quest” in which you were a bird who had to dethrone the three evil parrot kings: Polly-Gon, Polly-Ester, and Polly-Unsaturated.

And how did this trauma impact you as an adult?

After I graduated from UCLA and found myself still there, working and not worrying about classes but still kind of in a rat race, it basically came down to: “screw this, I’m gonna start looking at birds.” I figured I’d learn about the four or five types of birds I thought we’d have on the UCLA campus, and maybe post their info on the web. Little did I know that not only was I wrong about how many types of birds were around, but I would also soon be hooked: a bird junkie.

Sounds like a horrible addiction. How do bird junkies get their fix on?

There’s a sort of Pokemon aspect to birdwatching or “birding” as “birders” call it: you gotta see ‘em all. That and it’s awesome on an existential level to discover something new that had been hiding in plain sight. And let me tell you, the bird race beats the rat race.

But Los Angeles can’t be a great place to watch birds.

Yeah, you wouldn’t think so. I sure as hell didn’t. I thought there’d be only a handful of birds at UCLA, and now I’m up to something like fifty on the Birds of Westwood. But get this, there used to be wild land around here, like back before Columbus I guess. Rivers and everything. Some of it’s actually still around too, if you can believe it. Mostly up in the hills and mountains, but also in some few places that have been preserved, like the Sepulveda Basin at the 405 and 101, the Ballona Wetlands in Marina Del Rey, and the Kenneth Hahn State Recreation Area in Culver City. We also have a bunch of parks, which really help. If you start surfing around LA in satellite view on Google Maps you’ll see some of these places as big patches of green or brown that you probably never knew about. So these fragmented bits of habitat still help support a surprising variety of feathered dudes, and they can even act as oases in the concrete desert, resulting in a higher concentration of birds in a small area.

The only birds I’ve spotted in L.A. are pigeons, sparrows and once I had dinner at Gladstones and the waiter wrapped my leftovers in the shape of a swan. What am I doing wrong?
»continue reading Losanjealous Interviews The Birdman of Westwood

Sat. Apr. 29

Depeche Mode, Daft Punk, Franz Ferdinand, Sigur Ros, Damian “Jr. Gong” Marley, Common, Atmosphere, Carl Cox, My Morning Jacket, TV on the Radio, Ladytron, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Tosca, Cat Power, Animal Collective, HARD-Fi, Derrick Carter, Devendra Banhart, She Wants Revenge, The Walkmen, The Juan Maclean, Imogen Heap, Audio Bullys, Lady Sovereign, Deerhoof, The Duke Spirit, Eagles of Death Metal, Lyrics Born, Matt Costa, The New Amsterdams, The Zutons, Platinum Pied Pipers, White Rose Movement, Chris Liberator, Colette, Joey Beltram, Hybrid, Living Things, Wolfmother, The Like, Nine Black Alps, Celebration, The Section Quartet, Shy FX & T Power, Infusion.

Sun. Apr. 30

Tool, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Bloc Party, Paul Oakenfold, Scissor Sisters, Matisyahu, James Blunt, Sleater-Kinney, Mogwai, Coheed and Cambria, Wolf Parade, Coldcut, Phoenix, Digable Planets, Amadou & Mariam, Little Louie Vega, Mylo (DJ Set), Seu Jorge, Gnarls Barkley, The Go! Team, Kaskade, Metric, Editors, Art Brut, Dungen, The Dears, Jamie Lidell, The Magic Numbers, Los Amigos Invisibles, Jazzanova, stellastarr*, Michael Mayer, Murs featuring 9th Wonder, Mates of State, Gilles Peterson, Infadels, Gabriel & Dresden, The Subways, Minus the Bear, One Republic, Be Your Own Pet, Youth Group, Giant Drag, Kristina Sky, The Octopus Project.

This may or may not be the full line-up. Check this space frequently for updates and insightful commentary.

Updated 02/01/06

So amazingly I find myself heading to the bar and ordering a Corona. Between zero and zero I had to round up and arrived at “Ending B.” I personally think my make-up looks lousy but that’s the internet for you. Not lousy, just non-committal. Nah, lousy. Not the internet, my make-up. Wait.

I’ve distracted myself dangerously from my own androgynous boredom. Gotta get back on track. Lawyers Who Use to Be In Rock Bands take the stage. They do ‘80’s covers. The Kajagoogoo sounds relevant, Dire Straits sexy. I’m waiting for my mark. I order another Corona and doodle script ideas on a napkin: eight sexy twenty-somethings plan to have the “ultimate weekend” on a party boat when they’re attacked by a genetically engineered shark that can read minds. The shark turns them against each other, they hallucinate, don’t believe the shark exists, jump into the water, shark eats them. But there’s a twist: The military wants the shark back.

Plot complications start crowding my napkin when I realize The Cups of Coffee are already playing. I sweep my hair out of my eyes and try to listen objectively. It takes about two seconds. Casagrande, Casagrande. This is your great product tie-in? They’re not even bad. They’re just. . . everybody. Everybody is them. Same clothes, same hair, same white loafers. Chapter and worse. On the periodic table of rock clichés they are hydrogen. And they look like they’re off balance. Like they’re going to trip or fall over or slip. When did that become fashionable? I don’t get it. They’re singing this song, it goes like “drop a dime drop a dime drop a dime. . .” Two-fifths of the crowd is singing along and jumping around. They start falling over, the band, exactly as if they were off balance, or say standing on bowling pins. They play like three songs and finish. I roll up my tote bags and think of what bullshit I’m going to say.

I almost intercept them on the way backstage. It’s three guys and a girl. “Hey you guys rocked” I say loudly. No one looks at me. Plus Minus Equals roadies are setting up mikes. “Hey you guys rocked” I say loudly again. In my peripheral vision I see the whites of rolling eyes. One of the guys in the band makes a “rock and roll” hand symbol over his head without turning around. I’m pretty sure he’s being an asshole. It pains me but I need their attention, in the way you need a dog to stop biting your crotch. If I don’t get Casagrande those autographed tote bags my credibility’s shot. Think DeMarco. I get an idea. “Hey, Cups of Coffee, you guys rocked”. There are half a dozen bodies between me and them. Someone either in the band or out of it says “Awesome dude buy some CDs.” A guy and a girl laugh. This doesn’t sit well with me. I’m sitting on a pair of deuces but decide now’s the time to go all in.

“You guys are fuckin’faggots,” I say, my trapezius muscles tightening into thick knots. . . .

If you think Bill gets in a fight, text or e-mail “Continuation A”

If you think The Cups of Coffee defuse the situation with a light-hearted joke and invite Bill into their dressing room to exchange pleasantries and sign tote bags, text or e-mail “Continuation B”

If you think nothing happens and Bill orders another Corona, text or e-mail “Continuation C”

Visit our concert calendar for a full show list, links to buy tickets and our picks.

***Recommended Show of the Week***
She Wants Revenge @ Amoeba
Two former b-boys from the Valley join forces to form a goth rock band? Is this a joke? Gloom rockers are supposed to be mysterious, wear lots of mascara and live in caves. I feel like I could run into these dudes at the Sherman Oaks Galleria Fuddruckers. No really, are these guys fucking with us? Find out Tuesday when they play a free show at Amoeba.

Get tickets now: 4/21, 4/22 Dinosaur Jr. @ Troubadour; 3/29 National @ Troubadour; 4/1 We Are Scientists @ El Rey

MONDAY
East Village Opera Company @ Knitting Factory

TUESDAY
She Wants Revenge @ Amoeba (free)
Akron/Family @ Echo
Cake, Tegan and Sara, Gogol Bordello @ Wiltern
Daniel Lanois @ Spaceland
The Like, Army Navy @ Cinespace

WEDNESDAY
Violent Femmes @ House of Blues
Wanda Jackson @ Amoeba (free)
Ariwa Electronic Dub Show @ Echo
Peanut Butter Wolf, J. Rocc, Melo D @ Knitting Factory

THURSDAY
Jenny Lewis @ Vista Theater
KT Tunstall @ Troubadour
DJ Quik @ House of Blues
Tijuana Indie Pop @ Echo

FRIDAY
DJ Quik @ House of Blues
Dead Meadow @ Troubadour
East L.A. Days/Fellini Nights @ Getty (free rsvp)
88 @ Spaceland
Los Abandoned Winter Formal @ Echo
Black Wire @ Tempest

SATURDAY
Of Montreal, Irving @ Echo
King Britt Experience @ Temple Bar
Greyboy Allstars @ El Rey
Anna Moura @ Getty (free rsvp)
Coldplay @ Forum

SUNDAY
Anna Moura @ Getty (free rsvp)
Army Navy @ Echo
Eleni Mandell @ Tangier

Thanks to Black Wire for the Black Wire tip

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I am the Burbank Booby Genius. Attend my genius, and learn.

I go to the Hooters of Burbank with my SAG card wielding Ombudsman every Friday. It is without a doubt that we have a scheme to pick up one of the waitresses — usually as a producer or actor of some invisible and unproven merit — but this time, this time I achieved something like anaphylactic shock to think of something so criminally fun and irresistible to these meat nymphs.

There, at the table, we sat sipping our drinks and making suggestive eye contact with the staff when I noticed my partner making clumsy conversation with a disinterested party. I don’t know where I get my ideas, but it was time to call in a surreal cerebral air strike and straighten this out. With booming, stentorian aplomb, I said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about you. I want to dress you up in a piranha outfit for a commercial I want to shoot at house in front of a green screen.”

She heard the word piranha and leaned in. I believe most piranhas have freckles on their bosoms, so I was almost there. Ah, the crew grimaced. I’m out on a limb. Will I jump? No. She’ll jump. She’ll jump into my arms. The word piranha made her molecules get all funny.

“You want to see me in a piranha outfit?”

Yes. Your face in piranha makeup, no clothes over the shoulders. We hear Hall and Oates’s “Man Eater”, whoa here she comes… tum tum tum, tum tum tadum… I want you to be swimming in front of the green screen, minding your own piranha business, when something dangles over the far left side of the hypothetical fish tank. You see it! It’s a man! A man made out of Slim Jims!”

Laughter. I said to my partner with my eyebrows raising and lowering in code, “Watch this. I’ll have them all over hear petitioning for our phone numbers.”

“Oh. My . Gawd! That’s so funny! Oh. My Gawd.”

The Oh My Gawd First Alert signal pulls all Hooters waitresses to our table to the scowls of local firemen. Player, play on!

“You become incensed with hunger! You perniciously bite and chomp your way over to him and start lashing out at it and biting at him — gnakk! gnakk! — until you have him like a pinch of Skoal’s Bandits between your lip and gum. Then tear him asunder. Cut to graphic. OUT. Thirty seconds. It can’t miss. What do you think. Wanna do it?”

Oh. My. Gawd. Where did you get this idea? Did you just think of it here? Are you serious? You want me to do this? Oh my Gawd. That’s so nuts! You’re serious? When did you want to do this?”

I think, perhaps, some of my claims resonate as fiction in the ears of my colleagues. This couldn’t be further from fact. I rarely, if ever, deviate one micrometer’s measurement from titful truthfuls of the Hooterotic. I don’t have to.

You’ve read the top thirty fact about Chuck Norris. But did you know these facts about Channel 4 News anchorman, Chuck Henry?

1. Chuck Henry is 60 years old.
2. Middle name: Mathers
3. Chuck was a news anchor in both non-continental states.
4. Chuck Henry hosted and produced “Eye on L.A.” which ran from 1984 to 1991.
5. Eye on L.A. once aired a 3-D Hawaiian Swimsuit Spectacular.
6. chuckhenrydesigns.com is not Chuck Henry’s boutique design shop. It is the web site for Atlanta’s premiere floral designer.
7. Two third-grade teachers added Chuck Henry to their curriculum.
8. Chuck Henry has won 12 regional Emmy Awards
9. A 2003 regional Emmy Award was awarded for spot coverage of a dump truck chase.
10. Chuck Henry starred in The North Avenue Regulars, Wisdom and The Tommyknockers.
11. The average user rating of movies starring Chuck Henry is 5.1 out of 10.
12. Chuck hosted a pilot in 1975 for the gameshow Beat the Odds
13. On Beat the Odds players stopped a spinning wheel by yelling “stop” while trying to avoid Whammies–a full eight years before Press Your Luck.
14. 14 years later, Chuck Henry tried his hand at another game show, Now You See It.
15. Now You See it was cancelled after 15 weeks.
16. chuckhenry.com is owned by a truck and trailer shop in Kansas.
17. On chuckhenry.com you can buy a 24′ long Fruehauf dump trailer with 66″ sides, full frame, Budds, 50% tires & brakes, 1974 Frame, 1985 Tub, roll tarp, asphalt liner and top hinge gate for $13,850.
18. This is what the Chuck Henry of chuckhenry.com looks like:
    
19. Chuck Henry is the Executive Producer and host of “Travel Cafe”.
20. 2001 L.A. sports schedules are conveniently listed on the Travel Cafe Web Site
21. Chuck Henry always signs off by saying “I’m Chuck Henry, so long everybody.”
22. Chuck has never once signed off by saying “I, Chuck Henry, am so long, everybody.”
23. IMDB notes Chuck Henry’s other trademark is driving a black Beemer.
24. Chuck Henry has been married for more than 30 years…presumably to the same woman
25. Chuck and his wife have four children.
26. Before taking off to work each day in his Black BMW, Chuck Henry would tell his wife and kids, “I’m Chuck Henry, so long everybody” (unverified)
27. While covering a story on wildfires in 2003, Chuck Henry and his cameraman were rescued by a firefighter as his news van was engulfed in flames.
28. Chuck and his cameraman were sitting inside the vehicle when the wind whipped flames around them and the thick smoke caused the ignition to malfunction.
29. Moments after the incident, Chuck cried on camera as he credited the firefighter who saved his life.
30. Chuck Henry served as Grand Marshall of the 2005 Monrovia Days Parade

Jesus Christ. Look at it. I just had quadruple bypass while ftp’ing the image. Let’s all take a small break from our daily activities to stare at a holy gigantic mound of fluffed butter.

I really don’t have much to say, other than Holy Fucking Shit Would You Look At That Giant Tower Of Butter Creaming Out The Top Of That Bowl Akin To An Ice Cream Sundae If Ice Cream Were Yellowish And Considerably More Detrimental. Brings up an interesting question. Which is more dangerous to eat, a bowl of ice cream or a bowl of fluffed butter? I’ll try both over the weekend and report back my findings. One step further, what’s the most dangerous food a person could possibly eat? Don’t say blowfish.

Sitton’s is ok in my book. I’d originally come to NoHo to check out a different diner which has apparently disappeared. Fortunately for yours truly, Sitton’s stepped up and sated my need for bacon and coffee. BACON! I said it. I’ll eat it. Hell, give me yours. Sitton’s embodies everything you’d expect from a diner in NoHo: Great diner coffee, stools, a few grungy actors, snappy service. Lower your expectations, lower your health, order up a plate of biscuits and gravy and don’t bitch if it’s cold. This is what diners are made of: Butter.

Sitton’s Diner
11329 Magnolia
818.761.3341
24 hours

Bonus Photos:
Signage, Dineage

Related: Were you aware the subject of the very first posting on losanjealous was a flying tub of margarine?

I fought long and hard over this one, my blogger’s ethics (???-Ed.) wrestling over whether it was right to give still more publicity to what is essentially desperate cry for publicity. But then, I glanced up from my Moleskine and I saw a laughing young child, gay and innocent, features illluminated in a slim shaft of late afternoon sunlight on the Coffee Bean terrace. I thought, if I can convince just one young boy (just one) out there with a DV cam, an iBook, a rip of Final Cut and a DSL hookup, to not make that parody video he has been thinking about making, well, then our (and the Lord’s, really) work is done here.

But wouldn’t you know it, I am too late to stop these youngins from already going down that dark path. Damn it. Still, we will fight. Because we must.

You see, this “Lazy Monday” clip that’s making the the in-box rounds is a harbinger of bad things to come. This soi-disant West Coast (Santa Monica & Bev Hills mostly) response to the infamous SNL clip nudges us further down a slippery slope of diminishing comedic returns. The video is amusing, probably not as funny as you and your group of friends though. It displays the competency of someone who’s taken an extension DV editing class or two plus a Groundlings class or two. The references–Coffee Bean, 405, NPR–will make locals chuckle, while reinforcing the worst L.A. stereotypes to East Coasters. Thanks, dudes.

And so, ultimately, friends, this “Lazy Monday,” is just some more useless web video detritis, a genre that needs no more entrants. The original (?) “Lazy Sunday” Narnia rap clip was like an unexpected corpse fart from that comedic morgue that is SNL ‘06. They’ve already shown themselves unable to bottle lightning again with a terrible follow-up in “Young Chuck Norris.” Let’s zip up this body bag now.

Parodies are one thing. Parodies of parodies are another. Please let the East Coast/West Coast parody video shorts end here. It’s only a matter of time before someone ends up with a shitty NBC sitcom. And none of us wants that.

The Coachella ticket pre-sale is now live through 1/27. Still no official line-up announcement, so this early action is for the true festival faithful.

[In a throaty whisper:]

The password is… SEVEN

2-Day passes price out at an all-time high $190.20 after the advance purchase discount. This includes a baffling $6 ‘building facility charge’ for the open field festival. Tack on $25 if you want to bundle in the Coachella movie DVD. Tack $35 on top of that if you want to camp it up. Tack on 120 Hail Marys if you want to save your soul.

Tuesday, 9pm. Last minute. Friends have an extra ticket, Josh Rouse, Troubadour. He’s on our hotly-contested weekly concert mailer for those not paying attention. What the hell, I’ve got a free evening. I’m in.

Rouse recently played a sold-out show at the El Rey with a full band. Although tonight’s show was a solo set, the Troub was packed [photo]. Easily 50 to 100 more people squeezed into the joint than the ‘Sold out via KROQ contest‘ Strokes show I had the ridiculous luck of attending two weeks prior. Lucky for me, said friends finagled VIP loft access this eve. Upstairs to the easy access bar we go cat go.

What to say. I don’t usually review concerts. The man can sing. The man can play. The man can sing and play and pull your heart strings. If you’re going through a phase. A phase like heartbreak. Or not…The man can touch you. With my current mood, he struck just the right chord. I wasn’t alone. In a bizarre set of synchronized actions, the show started just as I was firing up the camera. A photo of one of my friends appeared on the viewfinder. Some random girl walked by while this was happening. She looked down and noticed my friend (also a girl) on the viewfinder. Instinctively she said “She’s not going to help. She won’t help. Not tonight.” It made no difference that the girl in the camera had no relevance to me. I caught the meaning just the same.

Disclaimer: I’m no Audree. Most of my concert photos look like they were taken while riding a bicycle at 27mph. I got to meet Josh Rouse after the show, though, and that photo turned out a-ok . Arguably High School Senior Photo ok. [photo]

For those who were wondering, he currently lives in Valencia. Spain, not California.

This clown Andrew Jones and his misleadingly-named “Bruin Alumni Association” (oddly enough, not affiliated with the university nor its alumni association) have been in the news for his McCarthyist hitlist of “radical” professors and, more recently, his subsequent backpedaling from his cash-for-tipoffs offer.

What your more respectable publications (e.g., not us) Say what?!–Ed. have not wasted their time on is the content of his college newspaper stuff. A look at Jones’s writings during tenure as a Daily Bruin columnist from 2000-2003, reveal an agenda some might construe as racist, sexist and possibly just plain kooky, to say the least. Once you get past the UCLA paper’s ill-advised decision to give him a platform to reiterate Neo-Con talking points (liberal media bias, hello?), you will find the angry polemics of a budding Sean Hannity-type, diligently hitting all the right hot buttons: anti-PC, anti-affirmative action, anti-feminist, anti-Hollywood, anti-drug legalization, anti-Social Security, and so on and so on.

To give you an idea of the mind behind all this “radical” professor hoopla, sample some of his more stupefying statements, handily stripped of any annoying context in order to maximize their absurdity:

»continue reading “Radical” Prof. Evaluator Was Neo-Con Hack at UCLA

Fancy, fancy Mondays. Back in the game I go cat go. Back with the commute. Back with the cubicles. Back with the big boy clothes. Back with the requisite Good Time at the end of the day.

For The Good Time. Just around the corner from Nandarang, yet largely smoke-free and delightfully less crowded. If you’ve ever. Ever driven by and not stopped, it is blatantly obvious that you sir are not For the Good Time. Me, I’m For The Good Time. The ritual goes something like this:

Bartender: (peers at me, disinterested) . . .
Me: God Damn it. Gimme Hite, amigo. Pronto. I just escaped cube city.
Bartender (opening Hite) . . .

In my mind it went just that way. In real life it began with the valet man at the joint next door.

Me: Is it ok to park For The Good Time?
Valet: Yehh?
Me:For The Good Time. Is there a place to park, here or in back, For The Good Time?
Valet: Yeh you can park right there, free.
Me: Thanks, man.

I park it. Walk inside. A mini-grand piano and microphone stand greet me inside the door. Excepting two guys on the patio, I’m the sole customer. Posters of Frank, Trane, De La Hoya adorn the walls. Decor is a combination of cozy and strange. Straight out of 1989. Looks like one of those live jazz supper club joints. You know the ones. You see somebody mind-bogglingly amazing like McCoy Tyner, Pharoah, Jimmy Smith (RIP)…all the while you’re distracted because the decor is so freaking goddamstrange. Flowers. Lots of maroon, chrome, black. Faux art deco. Is it old people decor? Where the hell can you buy chairs like this? Do jazz legends like the decor, or simply put up with it?

We’re back For The Good Time now. I wonder briefly if the place is a hostess bar. Speaking of bars I’m making my way to that one, pronto. I get intercepted by the bartender, halfway. I head him off by speaking first.

Me: I’ll sit at the bar.
Him (pointing to bottles): We don’t have mixed drinks, man.
Me: You got beer?
Him: Sure!
Me: I’ll have a beer. Hite.

Everything’s For The Good Time after that. I scope the menu. He’s right: The place has no mixed drinks. You can buy beer or soju by the bottle and then it jumps to a “half bottle” of booze (beginning at $60) up to a full bottle of booze (topping at $325). Basically For The Good Time you need to come prepared with eight guys who like drinking straight whiskey. That, or wait until you’re pushing 70, retired, crabby and more than able to polish off a liter of Crown Royal without blinking.

Me: (motioning to the piano crowding the door) You guys have live music?
Him: We…used to. Not anymore.
Me: Hm.

I really can’t tell which of us is more bored with this conversation. Regardless, both parties are very amiable.

Here I sit For The Good Time in pants a’fancy. I take a drink from my tiny Hite glass. I loosen the tie. Take off my shoes. Call my attorney. Get comfy. Some guy who may or may not be the owner comes in with three women in tow, barking orders to the waiter. I down my booze and munch a few peanuts. Later, I will discover this place has one of the highest health ratings in all of Koreatown. 95. Not just “A”… Big “A”. Cleanest beer I’ve ever had. No hipsters in sight. No whiteys in sight but me. Frankly, nobody in sight. Not bad for a Monday.

For The Good Time
610 S Serrano
Free (sparse) parking

Visit our concert calendar for a full show list, links to buy tickets and our picks.

***Recommended Show of the Week***
Morningwood @ Roxy
Who doesn’t like waking up to a little Morningwood? Actually there’s lotsa Morningwood haters out there. Screw em–this is going to be a fun show. If you can’t make it to the Roxy on Friday, they’re playing a few other gigs in the area.

Get tickets now: 6/3 Liars @ Troubadour

MONDAY
Neil Hamburger @ Largo
Brandi Carlisle @ Troubadour
Vetiver @ Echo

TUESDAY
Imogen Heap @ El Rey
Josh Rouse @ Troubadour
Daniel Lanois @ Spaceland
Film School w/ Sound Team @ Cinespace
Greg Proops, John C. Reilly @ Largo
Josh Rouse @ Troubadour
Vetiver @ UCLA

WEDNESDAY
Film School w/ Sound Team @ Troubadour

THURSDAY
Calexico @ Barnsdall Gallery Theatre
Rebirth Brass Band @ 14 Below

FRIDAY
Of Montreal @ Echo
Morningwood @ Roxy
Lake Trout, Benzos @ Spaceland
Blixa Belgard @ Echo

SATURDAY
Dead Kennedys @ House of Blues
Gossip @ Echo
Soundlessons w/J-Rocc @ Echo

SUNDAY
Nous Non Plus @ Tangier

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The guy that’s making these is fast becoming a hero of mine. His dogged devotion to pointless speculation and uncompensated graphics work in the name of “pure fun” is admirable. I particularly envy that lack of personal inner censor that says things like “Why the fuck am I am doing this?” or “What do I get out of this? or, simply, “Who cares?”

So for v. 3.0, he’s slapped on a disclaimer watermark and corrected the typos in previous version. There is some reshuffling in the smaller font acts. At the top, the most notable re-pixeling is the removal of both Portishead and Gorillaz and the addition of the rumored My Bloody Valentine reunion. Maybe he’s heard something.

Would this bill get you to fork out 175 clams, drive 4 hours, hang in 100 degree heat and sleep in your car or a $400 Motel 6 box?

UPDATE 02/01/06: The real thing is here.

LOS ANGELES CITY HALL SIDEWALK, 1959

Blue jean clad second and third grade Glassell Park Elementary School students board a big yellow school bus in front of City Hall. They’re on a Field Trip. How fun! In the background on the left is the Los Angeles Times building. It still stands. The Sunkist Building is on the right. It was bulldozed about 1969. Chances are the school bus is still in service.

Did it ever occur to you that school buses and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese are the same color? Did it ever occur to you that downtown Los Angeles is just like Disneyland? The Freeway is Autopia; the Gold Line between Union Station and Chinatown is like riding the Monorail to Adventureland. Olvera Street is a Main Street USA-Adventurland-Frontierland combo; Clifton’s Cafeteria, the most atmospheric eatery in town is Frontierland with a little Bear Country mixed in; The Bob Baker Marionettes, downtown since 1961, is more than Fantasyland; The Music Center is Tomorrowland and the Walt Disney Concert Hall is the Castle, the Castle of the future.

That is just the tip of the iceberg of the places that make the heart and soul of Los Angeles just like a theme park. Come along and join the tour and you too will never see the city the same way again! It’s the other “Happiest Place on Earth.”

Here’s to you and to Downtown Los Angeles

Charles Phoenix

Visit Charles’ site, God Bless Americana, or join his Slide of the Week Mailing List.

If the Most E-mailed Story ranking on nytimes.com is any kind of indicator, news is travelling fast that Trader Joe’s is soon to cut ribbons on its first ever markets in Manhattan. TJ’s culty reputation–quirky inventory, good prices, irreverant mail ads w/ 19th C. line art that wouldn’t be out of place on a Decemberists e.p, etc.– has no doubt preceded its arrival. As a service to our NYC friends and an invitation to readers to chime in, below is a cursory list of a few points on shopping the much-beloved grocer. Our readers will surely provide their own sage counsel on getting the most out of your brand-spankin’-new TJ’s.

Getting in, getting out. First off, as a largely peripatetic city, you are not going to have to deal with the infamous TJ parking lot clusterfuck-by-design we do. And that train experience will come in handy when jockeying through the narrower than usual aisles. So right off the bat, you’re ahead of the game. Grab a basket and let’s go.

Selection. Once inside, the temptation to buy everything in sight is strong; after all, the shit is cheap. If you are on foot, this actually makes it easier, limiting your take from the get-go. You really should only be coming out of TJ’s with a bag or two per visit. It generally takes a few visits’ worth of trial and error to arrive at your core TJ’s list and then you’ll work from that, adding on an experimental seasonal selection here and there.

Wine. TJ’s has this rep for decent wines at decent prices. I don’t know how variations in regional exporting will affect the labels they will stock for you there, but if you see this $2 bottle called “Charles Shaw,” (yes, that infamous ‘Two Buck Chuck’) resist the temptation. It is some serious gutter swill. Stick with the California wines, maybe $8 and up. They have some kind of deal with the lower-end Coppola Rosso wines, so those are a safe bet for a daily wine. Once in a while they get an assload of some Argentinian or Australian off-label and pass the savings on to you. I’d steer clear of these for the most part. Oenophiles can chime in on this.

Fresh Fruits and Vegetables. A lot of their produce is imported, often from exotic locales and the day-to-day selection is dicey. Turkish apricots are currently in season, for example. I’ve always thought most of their selection in this dept. is a bit dull in flavor. Functional stuff for recipes, but not the greatest. If you have a local farmer’s market you like, do that instead.

Empty shelves. A curious phenomenon for a thriving retail establishment, but regularly TJ’s shelves will go bare. As in area-natural-disaster-emergency-evacuation wiped-out. They often will sell through their stock before the next batch arrives. Probably has everything to do with keeping prices down. Still, can be annoying as hell when you want to dash in for some pita chips.

Frozen Foods. Here is where they separate themselves from the pack with unique offerings. You won’t find any Swansons crap here. Frozen soy chorizo and potato flautas or chicken lasagne, for example. Lots of Mexican, Asian, vegetarian and ice cream offerings. Mochi ice cream is stocked regularly. Vegetable side dishes galore. Just get your slabs of protein from a butcher or a plain old supermarket to go with.

Party Foods. This catch-all category is arguably what made Trader J’s rep. Along with the aforementioned wine, here you have all manner of sparkling beverage, imported artisan cheeses, those hummi variants, passable sushi, unsalted chips, salsas, dips, even quiches. This is where you go nuts and load up.

Final Words. As a rough comparision, think of Trader Joe’s as the IKEA of markets: A few funky items throughout the apartment is OK, but you probably don’t want the whole damn house full of their stuff. Something as basic as eggs or milk under the TJ’s label is a risky proposition. But you don’t go there for milk and eggs. You go there for Trader Joe’s Sparkling Blueberry Juice and Fire-roasted peppers. Butter? No. Three Layer Hummus though? Sure. White bread? Nah. Jalepeno Blue Cornbread? Absolutely. Catching on? In summary, you cannot fully stock a working kitchen if you are a halfway serious amateur chef on the mostly-readimade TJ’s catalog. You will still have to suffer Whole Foods if you need, say, a stalk of lemongrass to make that green curry. You can however fill in the snacking gaps on your list–finger foods, chips, booze, novel frozen goods. Basically, you can set up one hell of a party spread with their gear.

Gridskipper kicked off a series of interviews with the winners of the 2005 Urban Blogging Awards. A highly scientific formula painstakingly developed over the last twelve years by scientists in Helsinki calculated losanjealous to be the Best Los Angeles Blog.

Here’s an excerpt of our conversation:

losanjealous: And as far as the Brooke Shields thing is, look. You gotta understand, I really care about Brooke Shields. I– I think here’s a– a– a wonderful and talented woman. And– I wanna see her do well. And I know that– psychiatry is– is a pseudo science.

Read the full interview.

P.S. We’re not this sleazy in person.
P.S.S. Seriously.

Shortly after moving to the Mid-Wilshire neighborhood of Longwood Highlands (“A Neighborhood Of Pride”) in September, I expressed sorrow over the lack of efficient, inexpensive taco stands dispensing Mexican food within walking distance of my apartment. Most of my friends saw that I was feeling down, and would often attempt to console me, but I usually just pushed them away. It was having a real impact on my relationships with loved ones and casual acquaintances. So you can imagine my relief when, on a brisk November night, I drove past a new taco truck setting up shop on the corner of Olympic and La Brea. But after a brief delicious fling with the place, it vanished. Read about that sad tale here.

The taco truck did return to its spot in a car repair shop parking lot (FYI: Microsoft Word spell check thinks “car repair shop parking lot” is too many nouns in a row, but I’m gonna stick with it), and I’ve eaten there many times over the past few months. The truck is called El Pecas #2. It is owned and operated by Gerardo Navarro and Amado Giron. Navarro and Giron serve tacos and burritos cooked in the Jalisco style.

Saunter (or mosey) up to the window of the truck on any given night and you’ll see pork roasting on a spit and both Giron and Navarro dishing out buche (yes kids, that’s pig stomach!) tacos or a lengua burrito. The excellent salsas are based on Navarro-family recipes, which go back generations to the city of Arandas, Mexico, where some of the Navarro family still lives. The green and red salsas are some of the best I’ve ever tasted — both incredibly complex and challenging (as in they challenge me to be a better man, or think about world peace). I bet you don’t care to know what I order at El Pecas #2. Well, at first I was an al pastor man, but now I think that the carne asada is the meat-de-resistance at El Pecas #2. Try a few tacos, or order a burrito, I think you’ll be impressed. This is one of the best spots in town for quick, tasty Mexican food.

El Pecas #2 can be found at the southwest corner of Olympic and La Brea 7 days a week from 6 p.m. until about midnight. Tacos, $1; burritos, $3. Giron said that El Pecas #2 is available for catering. He can be reached at 323-353-0874. I think they are going to cater my cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. Who wants buche? Next week, I’m going to try to figure out what the deal is with El Pecas #1.

My editor calls me into his office. I’m unfazed.

“Reynaldo Casagrande, as I live and breathe.”

“That’s not my name and you have a new assignment.”

“Don’t tell me, I’m getting too close again? Too personal? Too involved?”

“Wrong. You’re not getting close enough.” He hands me a post-it. “We’ve got a great product tie-in and it involves you reviewing these bands next Wednesday night:”

Plus Minus Equals

The Cups of Coffee

Lawyers Who Used to Be in Rock Bands

“OK. What’s my angle.”

“You will see these bands at the Avalon and you will give them glowing reviews and then you will go backstage and interview The Cups of Coffee. You will tell them how much you liked their set, who are their musical influences, and will they sign some shirts and tote bags.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Are you still here?”

I don’t usually cotton to impudence but chief give running brave fine sachem so I do what the man says.

AVALON THEATER
Wednesday, January 18th
9:11 pm

I’m not old enough to be getting too old for this shit. Then it hits me. The Cups of Coffee. I get it. What better guy to interview a band called The Cups of Coffee. Casagrande you jerkoff… How tantalizingly simple-minded. Okay. Okay. I’ll play your game bigshot. I go into the bathroom and rock myself out: tear off the sleeves, cut the tie in half, turn my socks into forearm gauntlets, ring my eyes with eyeliner I steal from this guy’s purse, flip my windbreaker inside out. I am rockness. I make my way to the auditorium. . . .

If you think Bill is actually able to find The Cups and interview them,
text or e-mail “Ending A”

If you think Bill is dissatisfied with his look and goes back to the bathroom to apply New Wave-style war paint, text or e-mail “Ending C“

Can we debunk this?

If this is a fake, someone A) has a lot of time on their hands and B) is pretty damn handy with the Photoshop.

UPDATE: Spotted some typos. Did you see them? I would guess this is close to what we might see and might have been put together by someone with an inside link or is an actual Goldenvoice draft.

NME confirms a reunited Pumpkins headlining.

UPDATE #2: Eagle-eyed reader Bort sends a link that debunks this poster. Apparently it was photoshopped by someone on that damned Coachella message board. We can still speculate as to how accurate their guesses might eventually turn out to be. Certainly a few interesting names on there.