Tag: strung out

Black Flag

Offspring is in the Air: Sabroso Taco & Music Fest

We arrived in Dana Point to swarms of sunburnt bros in Black Flag tees just in time for the Adolescents to take the stage. The festival’s audience was starting to accumulate and the free ‘sampler’ beer glasses riddled the grass to indicate festival-goers had already switched to larger cups. It was early and the taco lines started to get backed up, so we hustled to Holy Smoke and got BBQ before we jumped in the pit. It should be noted that after attending at least 20 of these large punk festivals in the past five years, I get as impressed by the food as I do by the performances, and am probably more critical. related content: The Adolescents & The Dickies: Peckerwoods Gone Wild In Orange County Holy Smokes did not disappoint, I’m going to keep an eye out for them next summer. The Adolescents didn’t disappoint either. They’ve had a major resurgence in the past year, bookended by some of their strongest touring in decades and the tragic passing of long time Bassist Steve Soto. Highlights of the Adolescents’ set were their performances of “Who is Who”, which will be turning 40 soon, “Queen of Denial”, and a rare performance

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The Growlers

The Growlers Lose The Beach Goth Battle But Won The War This Weekend

We had already survived a dead car battery in record breaking heat, when our ride dropped us off at Bolsa Chica State Beach for Punk in Drublic, in Huntington Beach. This was a fitting location to pre-game for Growlers Six, happening twenty miles up the coast, as it was the show I had intended to cover, but the promoters seemed less interested in our intention of reviewing the fest, than assisting with late promotion through our social media. For this reason alone, we felt it necessary to stop by and “sample” some of the 100 local craft beers being distributed amongst the festival goers, then ditch the divorced-dad-fest, as we cruelly nicknamed it, and go straight to Beach Goth. related content: Beach Goth 4: The Party Of The Year We attempted to count and review each beer, but by the time we arrived at the mid-twenties, I was already tripping over my shoelaces and bumping into patient patrons, hiding their disgust at our unruly entitlement, and surly demeanors. It also didn’t help that the more I drank, the more negatively critical I became with each beer, while my partner and photographer became more friendly and outspoken with the pourers and

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