Tag: kid congo
Creatures of the Night: Substance LA 2021
Rob Shepyer
December 15, 2021
Substance has always been Los Angeles’ premiere post-punk festival. Celebrating all things goth and clad in black, the scene wouldn’t be quite the same without it. No festival embodies the true spirit of “LA” more than Substance. There’s something urban and dreamy about the whole episode. You get such a range of feels, some bands appeal to your heart then others purely to the body. Spanning all night, the fest goes late into the evening to make you feel like the real nightcrawler that LA is supposed to make you feel like. I came to see Nitzer Ebb but my greatest takeaways were the smaller bands who’s performances left a mark. Here are my five favorites from each day. Day 1 Pixel Grip Chicago-based industrial dance music is a beast of its own breed. Pixel Grip began the festival for my gang and might’ve left the biggest impression of any band for the entire three nights. They commanded their audience with so much attitude, mystique and power, they could’ve headlined the day purely based on the merits of their charismatic performing. Listening to them on records, many of the songs expanded my idea of what an industrial band ought to
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In the Red Records’ 25th Anniversary Party: Weekend at Larry’s
Rob Shepyer
July 18, 2016
A quarter century ago, Larry Hardy formed In the Red Records in Los Angeles, California to release garage and punk records for an underground that is thriving now more than ever. Some call this scene the garage rock revival, in which case In the Red Records was the scene’s Lazarus. So with 25 years of releasing music ranging from down tuned stoner rock to twangy blues garage, from bands in Los Angeles to Detroit, Portland and NYC, how does Larry Hardy decide to celebrate? A three night festival taking The Echo and Echoplex hostage to host a slew of bands spanning In the Red’s sonic history. As soon as I crept down those pissed stained stairs from Sunset to Glendale blvd and checked in, it was nonstop rock. Wounded Lion’s party rock launched the festivities and loosened me up for the debauchery to come. Dancing and prancing around the stage, cramming the jams down our throats, I picked up a sweat bouncing and bobbing and dashed out the Echo down to its bottom-bitch Siamese sister venue. A man eyeballed me suspiciously and asked for my papers, so I showed him my Zig Zags. Zig Zags were the first of many
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