
Tag: featured

Youth Brigade: Bedlam at Punk Rock Bowling Warm Up Gig at The Echo
It’s that time of the year again. That time where all the old punks dust off their denim vests, while the new punks make sure they have all their new patches sewn on by their mom’s before they take off for Punk Rock Bowling. As condescending as that just sounded, Punk Rock Bowling was my favorite festival all of last year. I’ve never seen such unity amongst one scene. As Punk Rock Bowling approaches, as with any other out of town festival, a ton of related shows pop up in LA before the festival. One of those shows, which I was lucky enough to attend, was Youth Brigade at the Echo. Youth Brigade is made up of BYO (Better Youth Organization) and Punk Rock Bowling Founders and brothers, Mark and Shawn Stern as well as Johnny and Joey. The band originates in LA, so the sold out show at The Echo was of no surprise. Generation Suicida opened up the show. Generation Suicida is an all Latino Punk band from South LA. One great thing about this band is that the majority of their songs were sung in Spanish. I don’t know if you have paid attention in recent years,

Family, Friends, FIDLAR: A Punk Rock Love Fest at The Observatory
I was finally going to see FIDLAR at The Observatory for a non-festival type show and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Disclaimer: I’m totally one of those fans with FIDLAR tattooed above my knee. I entered the Observatory in the middle of No Parents’ set surprised to see frontman, Zoe Reign with every piece of clothing still on. I think his crop-top made up for it. In past shows it was a norm for Zoe to take off a variety of clothing which was encouraged by fans. I got to say, I would totally dance with this guy. He’s got moves. This band has a great amount of minute long songs and they’ve got catchy stuff. They shouldn’t be a punk band you can just listen to in your room, they must be seen live! San Diego-surf punk band, The Frights were up next and their fan base has grown immensely since the last time I’ve saw them live. My first time seeing them was when they opened for FIDLAR at the Regent in January. There was a small crowd that knew their lyrics but now, everyone in the venue can be heard singing along. A “Fuck Trump” chant

Holding Our Breath: The Misfits Riot Fest Reunion
It’s been 33 years since Glenn Danzig and Jerry Only shared a stage as The Misfits and now in a reunion that no one saw coming, the original horror punks will headline Riot Fest’s Denver and Chicago festivals this September. When I say no one saw this coming, I’m not trying to be cliché. “Will there ever be a Misfits reunion?” was standard line of questioning in any Danzig or Jerry Only interview and it was always answered with a very sure no. The Misfits have been the center of countless legal dramas between Danzig and Only, Jerry even accused Danzig of spreading satanic values, while Danzig announced he was retired from touring. Yet in the year that Lemmy, Bowie, and Prince have left us and Axl and Slash have been able to set aside their differences, it appears that anything is possible. Since their last show on October 29th 1983, Jerry Only has led the Misfits through various lineup changes that included Michael Graves, Marky Ramone, and Dez Cadena of Black Flag, until finally Only assumed the position of the band’s singer in their current incarnation. Meanwhile, Glenn kept innovating in both punk and metal with Samhain in the

New Album Review: Death Grips- Bottomless Pit
It seems that Death Grips have finally made it through the other side of their artistic adolescence. They have spent their entire careers rejecting and rebelling against “basic bitch-dom” in their relationship with fans, labels and music critics and up to this point, they’ve been as erratic as a pubescent teenager. Not unlike an adolescent Jesus in the lost books of the bible, Death Grips are using their power and influence to blind the bullies, even as their artistic output is as regular as a sensible diet that is high in fiber. While Death Grips toyed with unorthodox styles of music and career choices, there was no drop off in output. Their latest release, “Bottomless Pit” is their 5th, full length studio album and 9th release altogether and between the release of JennyDeath and BP, Death Grips have been showing up for every show as well as maintaining a regular tour schedule. Are Death Grips assimilating into a more traditional career path? That remains to be seen but being a Death Grips fan continues to be an interactive scavenger hunt for sound and imagery, as fans are always an integral part of their artistic output. In the past, they have

Rooney Rocks L.A. For The First Time in 5 Years At Teragram Ballroom
The prodigal son returns. In this case, it’s Robert Schwartzman. Rooney’s comeback has gotten lots of people swooning, and the sold out album release party for Washed Away (their first album since 2010) at the Teragram Ballroom was the perfect homecoming. I arrived in the middle of Wild Wild Horses, the British foursome who made me do a double-take to make sure I wasn’t in the middle of an Axe Body Spray ad. I kid. But seriously, is boy band rock a thing? If not, these stallions are paving the way for a potentially treacherous path. Go for it, ladies, they’re there for the taking! The guitar and bassist had a pretty rad dynamic; riffs gave off electro effects, which I thought was interesting. They had me looking around the stage for any traces of digi-programmed tracks, but nothing. I don’t care who you are, making a guitar sound like anything but a guitar is never not awesome. Don’t let their squeaky clean stage persona fool you, either. They curse in cockney accents and can drink with the best of them. Deep Sea Diver from Seattle was up next, and they gave a hell of a set. Orchestrator and mastermind

New Album Review: NOTHING- Tired of Tomorrow
“And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.” – Albert Camus This is a review of Tired of Tomorrow by Philadelphia band, NOTHING being released on May 13th on Relapse Records. I like any band described as lush, an adjective commonly attached to Shoegaze, a style of rock that uses copious amounts of distortion to make melodic walls of ethereal sound. The name Shoegaze was attached to these artists because one reporter noticed they stared down at the stage rather than at the audience. Nothing, with their blending of ambient and punk, is a band that doesn’t make me want to gaze at my shoes but rather gaze up at the night sky as if it’s the fourth of July and I just broke up with my girlfriend and I’m watching fireworks with tear glazed eyes, smiling because I’m still alive. Nothing, made up of Domenic Palermo (guitar/vocals), Brandon Setta (guitar/vocals), Kyle Kimball (drums), Nick Bassett (bass), brings elements of punk, hardcore, and alternative to Shoegaze that line its wall of sound with razor wire. I listen to them and think of bands like Husker

Beach Slang Bring Their Noughties Revival to the Troubadour
Smack dab in the middle of their USA Spring Tour, Beach Slang packed the Troubadour and brought their revived noughties sound that’s got people buzzing from coast to coast. What’s that sound, you ask? Emo revival? So soon? Well, you be the judge. It’s not FIDLAR, but it’s not exactly Fallout Boy either (sigh of relief). Lead singer James Alex is another shining, sweaty example of how it’s never too late to punk—even for dads. Like imagine if Jason Bateman’s character in Juno hit it big instead of creeping on a pregnant teenager. What I was really stoked on were the opening acts: California, Dyke Drama, and Potty Mouth. It’s always nice to get to know some non-local talent up close and personal, and Beach Slang was bringing new noise from all over the map. The night kicked off with newly-formed, SF-based California, fronted by touring-guitarist-turned-official-member of Green Day, Jason White, Jawbreaker drummer, Adam Phaler and Dustin Clark of The Insides. As White graciously introduced each song—tracks like “Bad Direction,” “Cut & Paste,” and “No Hoodoo”—a few circa-2000 punks showed up out of the woodwork, witnessing a 3-piece of alt-rock vets riding the new west coast garage wave, diving in

Bleached Bring Catchy Hooks, 818 Pride & Friends to Teragram Ballroom
There are certain taboos in modern day, independent music journalism which you don’t breach, for any reason, lest you be nailed to the cross of insignificance. You don’t speak ill of Ty Segall, John Dwyer or Mac DeMarco, never say anything negative of Low End Theory and never play cards with a guy who’s named after a city. Then again, if classic day journalists from Rolling Stone were able to trash Black Sabbath and Zeppelin and continue to increase their circulation despite saying Jimmy Page was “a very limited producer and a writer of weak, unimaginative songs.” I have very little fear of being judged for “getting it wrong” and most of the time, I’m willing to go out on a limb if I believe in what I’m saying. I think I was the only person who reviewed Tame Impala’s “Currents” that didn’t put Kevin Parker’s musical pee pee in my mouth. And now that I’ve had more time with that album, I stand by every statement, even though 3 or 4 songs on that album have grown on me since the time I reviewed it. That being said, saying that I’ve always thought the band Bleached and their live

Close Encounters with Kim and the Created At The Echoplex
I get stoked whenever I know that Kim and the Created are going to play. Not just because I’m a lifetime punk that’s interested in how new talent is pushing the envelope but because I got a hunch big enough to disturb Quasimodo that someday they’re gonna be famous. The first time I saw Kim and the Created live was her December 12th 2015 L.A. homecoming to Bootleg Bar after a European tour that sent them to France the day after the Paris Massacre. About twenty people were present at the Bootleg show, just enough to let her prowl between us and shock us awake. Her antics included pouring beer over her head, hurling bottles into the audience, crawling around on all fours, toppling over stools and tables, and getting atop the bar and kicking over the display beers until the bartender signaled the sound guy to cut the show, thankfully it this was the last song anyway. Needless to say, her May 2nd 2016 homecoming after an East Coast tour supporting the Kills had more people, both old and new fans and a new Kim. Wu-Wu a.k.a. Ashley Rose Calhoun opened the night with a poppy, electronic call to

Deap Vally & Le Butcherettes’ Double Assault on the Regent Theater
Rock N’ Roll Dance Party at the Regent this past Saturday, presented by Dance in a Panic and featuring Deap Vally and Le Butcherettes, served as a perfect microcosm for a new reality in rock. The recent Tidal wave (see what I did there?) of Beyoncé’s Lemonade is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to women’s dominance in rock. Yes, rock. Even Queen Bey is wising up and digging into her rock and roll roots (note “Don’t Hurt Yourself” featuring Jack White), some of which no doubt, lie with unsung female blues singers like Big Mama Thornton and Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Alabama Shakes’ “Don’t Wanna Fight” winning for Best Rock Song at the Grammys was a victory for more than just Brittany Howard (the first black woman to win in the rock genre since Tracy Chapman in ’97). Pay attention and the beacons for the recent shift away from a predominantly male-dominated arena are there. The good news is that it only gets better—much better—the deeper down into that iceberg you go. I’ve never seen KAV live before—the event’s resident band, but they sounded a bit flat. I wasn’t sure if that was a regular thing, or

Dab Hits and The Damned on 420 at The Glass House
4/20, a holiday I have been somewhat celebrating since sophomore year when I first discovered pot. I’m not the kind of guy who makes a big deal out of smoking pot, let alone celebrating a holiday based on smoking pot, which ironically falls on one of the worst days ever (Columbine’s anniversary and Hitler’s birthday). But I’m also not going to not smoke pot. Who am I kidding? Pot to me today is like what my mom made Adderall for me throughout my school years. It gets me through the day and helps me tolerate the majority of the idiots out in the real world. That, along with The Damned at The Glass House in Pomona made for a very festive 4/20. I met up with my good friend Westin, bought a shit ton of pot, then picked up Pedro (of Them Howling Bones) and our dear friend Vera and headed to Pomona for The Damned. The Damned were introduced to me while I was in middle school. I was given the CD Machine Gun Etiquette in a box full of CD’s put together by my uncle’s, one of which was the drummer of DI so you know the box

2016 Is The Year That Coachella Jumped The Shark
On a yearly basis, I sacrifice my already sus street cred to attend Coachella; a festival so widely loathed by the discerning hipster that it insures a sell out within moments of tickets going on sale. As 10’s of thousands of people descend on the Coachella Valley for week 2 of the festival, I offer those that have stayed behind a look back on a Week 1that has far surpassed the past years of vacuousness and fuckboyery. I have been defending Coachella ever since it became uncool. It became uncool the moment Goldenvoice decided to stop selling single day tickets. The moment that happened, the festival became out of reach for most music fans and understandably, those music fans rail against the festival and it’s attendees at every opportunity. Afterall, the fact that Uber is now offering helicopter rides into the venue for the low price of $700 should be all you need to know about the setting for weekend 1 inside the Empire Polo Fields. Last year, I wrote an article called “Coachella: No History In Your Hate”. I’ve been to 11 out of the 16 installments of Coachella and it has created some of the fondest concert memories