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The Brian Jonestown Massacre in L.A.: Music Snobs & Fentanyl Lollipops
This past Saturday night, I gave it another go when Anton Newcombe and The Brian Jonestown Massacre took the stage at The Fonda Theater in the land of Fentanyl Lollipops and sickly sweet sizzurp. Thoughts were rushing through my head while frequent Brian Jonestown contributor Miranda Lee Richards opened the show in support of the iconic, occult-ish and earliest figures in the current psych rock insurgence taking place in the global underground. But much like Jerry Garcia himself, the imagery of BJM’s early work summoned acid flashbacks while the hustle was about “getting well” behind closed doors. Here comes a tangent. I’m reliably and uncharacteristically tribal when it comes to my loyalty to regional pride in any form. West Coast Rap, West Coast weed, (obviously). Echo Park music (don’t say ‘scene’) over Williamsburg and, of course- The East Coast girls ARE hip and I dig those styles they wear…but the West Coast has the sunshine and half naked well tanned women in the winter- even if I do dig a pale complexion with jet black, bangs cut as high as the depth of character. related content: The Brian Jonestown Massacre Play 3 1/2 Hour Set at Teragram But when it came

Meet Moon Duo At The Crossroads: Rock Rebranded At The Echo
The moment I first saw the imagery and themes from the new Moon Duo album, Occult Architecture vol. 1 released on Sacred Bones Records, I knew that Ripley Johnson and Sanae Yamada were communicating in a language I could understand. That’s why I peeled myself out of exhausted comfort this past Friday to attend their gig at The Echo, even though I was burning out quicker than Crowley, strung out in London. Apologies to the opening bands. Moon Duo has been on line-ups of shows and festivals I’ve attended in the past but sometimes, a shiny object is required to draw your attention in a time when there is more new music and less strict guidelines in adhering to people’s pre conceived notions on what kind of music they pledge their allegiance to. It would be easy for rock purists to overlook the magickal, mystical incantations and spells Moon Duo cast on their new album, Occult Architecture, Vol 1. But I’m more curious if there are any rock purists left under the age of 25 and what is the measuring stick of “pure rock”? The Rolling Stones? Robert Johnson? The Sonics? Zeppelin? How about GunsNRoses or even, Ty Segall?

UNIFORM & Black Marble at Union: The Mongrelization of Music Continues…
Tucked away amongst a row of small businesses and street vendors, the massive, multiple roomed venue called UNION is actually pretty easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. Even the marquee is unassuming amidst the flashing lights of the Pico-Union storefronts along the boulevard. Bright neon signs indicate that the Jewel Room awaits just past the side entrance and patio, still wet from the last few days of rain- a more perfectly planned setting for Black Marble and UNIFORM seemed impossible to imagine. Janky Smooth listed UNIFORM as a top 25 band to watch in 2017 so I believe it was the reason my request to cover this show was approved but I was most excited to cover Black Marble, a band that couldn’t sound ANY more different than UNIFORM. This should be interesting! Inside UNION, the stage is illuminated in light teal as the first act takes the stage. Anzano is a one-man act consisting of heavily distorted vocals, pre-recorded or triggered synth tracks and a giant flying-V shaped guitar that goes relatively ignored, save for a few sparse riffs. To compensate for the seeming limited musicality, Anzano is dressed in a sequin cape, chain mail cap

Celebrating Cheetah Chrome’s Birthday with Sex, Drugs, and Rock N Roll at Alex’s Bar
The hand-picked line-up of locals supporting Cheetah Chrome and his band at Alex’s Bar was about as solid as it gets. So, cheers to the insane minds that made Cheetah Chrome’s Birthday Bash an unforgettable evening of beauty, brutality, and bruises. related content: Opening Bands Shine as OFF! Play Alex’s Bar 16 Year Anniversary Prologue For those of us in the trenches, going out night after night to document the music scene, each show is a dice roll. We painstakingly wade through mediocrity. Furthermore, we pay for overpriced drinks and parking and suffer from lack of sleep. So what pulls us away from the comfort of our home vinyl collection? For me, I seek those nights where everything comes together. Nights when parking is a breeze, the opening band rocks, the atmosphere is 100% party, the crowd is full of beautiful people, and the beer is reasonably priced. Every show serves as part of a never-ending quest to relive that first real high. That space in time where the music entered my soul like a needle piercing a vein, transporting me to another level of consciousness. Thankfully, this ended up being one of those nights that makes this music junky’s struggle worthwhile. The

How This Coverage of Adam Ant Made ME King of the Wild Frontier
Ever since I moved to Hollywood, getting me to go to a show anywhere outside of the city takes a real effort. The other night, I not only left Hollywood, but left during the worst storm of the year. What crazy artist got me to drive all the way to The Observatory in Santa Ana? Mother Fuckin’ Adam Ant, that’s who. The Trip Adam Ant had played the Fonda Theater the previous week. Unfortunately, due to a late request and strict press approval regulations, I was unable to attend that show. What should have been an easy walk down my street to the Fonda, turned into a Harold and Kumar-style adventure through the street-rivers of Long Beach (to pick up a pre paid purchase of Girl Scout Cookies) to Santa Ana. The drive from Hollywood to the OC Observatory took me a total of about 2 and a half hours (including my cookie stop). As I watched cars hydroplane down the freeway in choreographed disaster, I kept reminding myself: “It’s fucking Adam Ant, and all the reviews of his other shows have been phenomenal.” Although the show was spectacular, I am still debating if any concert is ever worth dying

TSOL Gig New Material, Movie, Support Tiger Army, Headline The Dwarves
The importance and relevance of T.S.O.L. hasn’t diminished one bit after 39 years of music through thick and thin, break ups and reunions. On February 4th, liberty’s true sons held their record release show for The Trigger Complex at the Observatory with support from Dwarves. This was a big night for Jack Grisham because he was also screening his short film Code Blue which he co-directed with Susan Dynner and was financed by fans through a kickstarter campaign. Code Blue is about a high school misfit who scores with the high school hottie only to prematurely ejaculate his way into becoming an even bigger outcast after she shames him on social media. A few days later, the hottie dies and our hero is threatened by his mother with enrollment into military school. So, he runs away to the morgue and finds the girl he never satisfied. He makes love to her corpse, imagining that she’s enjoying him, only to be interrupted by cock-blocking cops. The film ends with our hero in a mental institution. His cellmate says “fuck the police” and our hero replies “only if they’re dead.” Kim Fowley once aptly described punk music as B-movies on record. Well,

The Murder City Devils Cast Voodoo Spells at Teragram Ballroom
Some bands wow audiences with epic light shows and costumes and confetti and dancing bears. Some bands wow audiences with tits and ass and more tits but other, more rarified artists bring nothing but their gear and raw talent. No filler. No fat. No stage banter. No politics. No masturbatory instrumentation. Just sweat and pure passion. The Murder City Devils do just that. Their show is a collaborative effort between band and audience that hits the perfect pitch of what rock and roll once was and is showing signs of becoming once again. Raining, the night was a stripped-down affair with 2 minimalist supporting acts before Murder City Devils. Seattle’s Corey J Brewer took the stage first. Just him and a briefcase of electronics that he used to tap into our psyche’s and pull and knead them like taffy. His music can be many things like a trippy mix of war and jungle drums, sampled wolf howls, and reverbing shamanic vocals all spewing from a scrawny North-Western-white-boy. The first thing that went through my mind as I meandered between the early comers during Corey’s set was figuring out what kind of people were into Murder City Devils. Baseball/Trucker caps abound,

Method Man & Redman: Observations in the Key of 90’s Nostalgia
Southern California was blessed with a flurry of great Hip-Hop shows last week! With acts such as Run The Jewels, Warren G, Method Man & Redman, we were exposed to some of the best of what hip-hop has to offer. Redman and Method Man want you to know that they are still all about that 90’s shit. It seems to be their mantra. Talk about keeping it old school, legendary DJ Dice of Das EFX joined them on turntables along with DJ Allah Mathematics, the designer of the OG Wu-Tang logo. Inspectah Deck was once quoted saying “The logo shows how the group is now bigger than any of the individual members.” That sentiment seems to still run true as they paid homage to their loved ones passed and dropped some ODB in honorarium. The loyalty these guys show for their friends is part of what I love about them, they never forget where they’ve come from. Considering how dynamic the pair are as a unit, it would have been nice to see them more in the zone as the “Funk Doc and Mef Tical” duo rather than one part of Wu-Tang. As expected, they busted out plenty of Wu-Tang

Sloppy Jane at The Smell: When Being A Mean Whore Became A Compliment
There isn’t much in the way of diverse options for those looking to loiter in Downtown L.A. alleyways. Well, unless you’re a crack head or an all ages indie music enthusiast, of course. You best believe that the alley that nestles the entrance of The Smell is the cleanest alley east of Figueroa, though. Amidst a turbulent and emotional month for essentially everyone and a year of uncertainty since the demolition notice first darkened it’s doorway, it was the front of the building’s street-facing facade that gave street lurkers and fledgling music journalists the eye candy they were looking for- a fresh coat of paint that was used to paint a mural depicting happy cartoon protesters supporting a litany of issues that weigh heavy on the minds of those that frequent and volunteer at The Smell. Above the door in bold black letters is the rallying cry “NOT OUR PRESIDENT”. I believe it’s the first time I’ve seen The Smell with any distinguishable markings on the street side of the building. A lot of change in the air. Related Article : The Rally To Save The Smell And The Horrid History Of DIY Venues In L.A. This particular block in the heart

Jesse Malin And All Star Rockers Raise Money For A Friend At The Roxy
It was raw and windy outside the world-famous Roxy Theatre in Los Angeles…a perfect night to be fed a big ol’ loving cup of Goats Head Soup from NYC rock n roller and D Generation lead singer, Jesse Malin and his seemingly endless array of optimally talented friends. Not only was this show serving as Jesse’s 50th birthday party, but also as a benefit for dear friend and road crew member Natty B who was diagnosed with Leukemia in 2006 and has since become paralyzed. What better way to raise money for a new wheelchair than to put together an all-star lineup and play some Stones songs. Genius. Due to a little shower snafu at home (we don’t need to get into that), I arrived a little later than expected, sadly missing the opening sets from both David Bason/Joe Sib and D-Generation guitarist Richard Bacchus. Apologies boy. I did, however, catch the closing portion of 20- something Wisconsin born songwriter, Trapper Schoep’s set, with a goodtime sing-a-long of Merle Haggard’s classic “Mama Tried”. Always a crowd pleaser. related content: Best Coast, HEALTH, No Age, Bleached, Ty Segall Play Show to Save The Smell The Roxy steadily began to fill up as it

Gene Loves Jezebel Play Immigrant in Entirety at Part Time Punks Gig
There was a time in pre-smells-like-teen-spirit Los Angeles when the goth music scene was second only to glam rock. New romantics, death rockers or whatever you want to call them, made their presence known on the Sunset Strip and beyond. Teasing their hair, wearing dark eye makeup and clad in lace and silk, these creatures of the night chiseled out an undeniable chink in the old concrete understanding of gender roles and Gene Loves Jezebel were one of those bands. It wasn’t that these guys wanted to be women or were in any sort of gender crisis. They just had a different idea of what it meant to look good and in manifesting this, received an onslaught of attention from chicks offering to share makeup and hair products with the tortured souls of this music scene. Yes, I often think I might’ve joined them had I been alive in goth’s heyday. I would’ve pierced my ear with an Egyptian Ankh and worn rose-colored shades at night, seen Christian Death play the Roxy while Rozz Williams made out with strangers on stage. Gene Loves Jezebel, still very much alive and still singing songs about love and death, announced their participation in KXLU’s

Smashing More Teeth With Youth Code Orange at Union Los Angeles
On January 28th in the year of our lord, 2017, I was initiated into the Youth Code and Code Orange live shows when the front of my bottom row of teeth were smashed through the space between my bottom lip and my chin in a live show that literally left an ounce of my blood on the floor of Union nightclub in Los Angeles when the heavy industrial tech duo, Youth Code opened for Code Orange this past Saturday night. Moments before my injury was sustained, I was lamenting the sad reality of a stagnant audience standing still as they witnessed the heaviest band in electronic music since Front 242 and before Ministry went full metal on the masses of the New World Order. Singer, Sara Taylor handled the sad reality well until about 5 songs in when me and a couple of other kids took matters into our own hands and gently convinced the audience standing directly in front of the stage to dance. Shortly thereafter, I experienced a momentary blackness and disorientation and a mysterious numbness in my mouth and aching in my jaw. A bit confused, I put my hand to my mouth and it was instantly

