»continue reading Arcade Fire & LCD Soundsystem @ Hollywood Bowl, 9/20/07

It’s 10:15 p.m. inside Spaceland’s back bar, a cool 45 minutes after we arrived and about an hour until Great Northern will rock this crowd. Four beers, three cigarettes, and two celebrity sightings in the books, we look around and think that this might be the best bar in Los Angeles.

Celebrity sightings aside (Kirk, from Gilmore Girls and that white, Abercrombie-looking dude who dated the white, Barbie-looking chick on Scrubs), we think about the elements you need for a perfect bar:

1) Alcohol. Check. They have both PBR and Chimay on tap, not to mention a slosherific variety of hard liquor which the bartendress surely has been sampling.

2) Freedom. Check. When asked about the smoking policy, the dashing, intoxicated [allegedly--Ed.] bartendress said, “Eh, I don’t care.” When used cigarette was placed on the bar, on a napkin, said bartendress took it and tossed it on the floor. No ashtrays? No problem!

3) Great music. Check, and check. Well insulated from Spaceland proper, a sampling of the back bar’s beat box features Velvet Underground, Johnny Cash, and Band of Horses. Not happy with that? Trek down five steps and listen to the reason you showed up.

4) An assortment of people. Check. Surrounded by old dudes looking for young ass, celebrities that never had their prime, half of Great Northern, hipsters, locals, local hipsters, whites, blacks, Hispanics, and Asians, the back bar had a great collection of eye candy and just the right amount of color to make things interesting and pleasant.

5) Entertainment. Check. Not content to plow yourself with liquor and cigarettes? Don’t feel like talking? Try the pool table and video games.

Lest this review focus on the bar and not the band (though both are an integral part of the Spaceland experience), we made our way down to the show, where Great Northern was slowly making their way on stage. »continue reading Great Northern @ Spaceland, 8/10/07

»continue reading Great Northern @ Hammer Museum, 7/5/07

Jeremy

Prime Nocte: June 10

I was tired as hell. It was a Sunday night and the El Rey was full and becoming more full as the time got closer. But, I barely noticed the throngs as I was tired as hell. After just three hours of sleep Saturday night, my eyelids felt heavier than a Kundera novel. Still, I was excited. LCD Soundsystem, I know from experience, put on a great show and Sounds of Silver is bound to make it on a few top-10 lists. Out of the gates, James Murphy and his System stated their intention to tear the El Rey a new one with Us. vs Them. From there they followed with Daft Punk and Time to Get Away. However, the party really got started with North American Scum. The heaviness started to fade in my lids and I started to feel a lightness you can only get from great, live shows.

As a capacity crowd jumped, yelled and clapped to the rhythm, LCD’s set turned from good to unforgettable. Dudes delivered an all out blistering set that challenged the very tenets of what a rock show should be and how music should be played. It was an auditory experienced aided by the ADD lights that never got tired of showing off, that indelible disco ball and, of course, Murphy, whose low-key personality seems to work like a puzzle piece with the high strung tenor of LCD’s sound.

They finished with New York, I Love You. Though the song lasts a mere 5:35 on the album, it seemed to go on longer than a Joanna Newsome album. It was 12:30 a.m. and a buzzed crowed spilled onto Wilshire. Fuck you Murphy for fucking up my Monday. But, shit, come back any time.

»continue reading 3 Brief Notes x 3 LCD Soundsystem Shows

If Jesus had a band, it would be called Vietnam. If Jesus played guitar, he would have been at the Troubadour Fri. night, opening up for the Black Angels. It’s not that Vietnam played to any bible thumpers that might be in the audience Nay. Lead sing J(esus)oshua Grubb and his band of disciples fit the physical description of God’s homeboy to a “T”. It was kind of eerie. I mean, I’m Jewish and it was kind of eerie. In fact, I was so distracted by the likeness that I didn’t even internalize any of the music. I’m sure it was inspiring.

On to the Black Angels, though. They certainly know how to throw down, whether you were on ’shrooms (see dialogue below) or you were actually from the 60’s, (as some in the audience surely were), it was hard not to appreciate the driving, pulsating rock that them Austin-based Angels manage to achieve.

»continue reading Black Angels & Vietnam @ Troubadour, 6/1/07

»continue reading Art Brut @ Troubadour, 4/21/07

Below are some of the conversations that may or may not have happened during the Carina Round show @ Hotel Cafe last Friday.

Me: Have you guys heard of Carina Round?
Girl 1: No. Who is She?
Girl 2: Ha Ha! She’s who we’re here to see. Carina is the greatest! Like, so the greatest.
Me: How greatest is she?
Girl 2: Like, I want to be reborn as Carina Round.
Me: Wow! So, you’re excited to see her tonight?
Girl 2: Um, yeah.
Me: How long have you been listening to her music?
Girl 2: Um, for, at least a year.
Girl 1: Oh, wait, I know who she is. She’s on that CD I got from [redacted] like six months ago. Hey, that’s when you heard of her too.
Girl 2: Oh, yeah.

Me: So, how do you like the show so far?
Guy 1: Oh, she’s really doing a great job up there.
Me: How would you define ‘great’?
Guy 1: Strong singing, great guitar, and she looks just fabulous.
Me: Do you have any qualms about a Brit singing on an American stage?
Guy 1: What? No, of course not.
Me: Do you have any concerns about terrorism? 15 British sailors were recently kidnapped by Iranian forces. Some are reporting chants of “Death to UK” all over Iran. Are you concerned about Iranian violence at the Hotel Café tonight?
Guy 1: I’m gonna get back to the show.
»continue reading The Carina Round Conversations

»continue reading Peter Bjorn and John @ Roxy, 2/1/07

»continue reading Secret Machines @ Union Station, 10/24/06

It’s Thursday night. Time for a quick stop at Benito’s Taco Shop, “L.A’s original taco shop.” My preferred locale sits menacingly across the street from a prostitute motel right there on La Cienega Blvd.

MMMM, I can taste the hand rolled tacos. It’s always been a question in the back of my mind why they insist on referring to these fried cylinders, filled with shredded beef and smothered in cheese and guacamole as tacos when they clearly should be called taquitos. Perhaps it’s the brown man trying to make the white man feel better for his serious denunciation of Spanish (Yeah, Im calling you out Steve Lyons).

It matters not.

I continue to peruse the menu I have so diligently committed to memory. While others were busy with all sorts of tables, be they multiplication or periodic, I was gettin down with my man Benito and his crazy Californian concoctions.
»continue reading The Day The Rolled Taco Died

»continue reading Cold War Kids @ The Troubadour, 9/8/2006