"There are an awful lot of crusties here," I remarked to Megan the Water Moccasin inside the Knitting Factory last night.
Megan gave an exasperated sigh and proceeded to describe an instance a few minutes earlier where she had to try and scoot away from her prime spot near the front of the stage because someone's scent was so offensive. At the moment that Megan finished her story, I praised the gene passed down to me by mother that stuffs up my nose from October to March annually. Unless I'm either really close to someone, or the smell is that bad, I won't be able to detect it until spring.
Crusties tend to inhabit certain types of events. You will rarely spot them at Britpop, indie or electro clubs. They generally only surface at hip-hop shows if it's some sort of DJ-oriented event, the more experimental the better. If they are at goth-friendly happenings, it is usually only those involving the most psychedelic of artists, such as a Legendary Pink Dots show. Crusties are more at home in punk shows, particularly at DIY spaces, anything associated with PLUR and/or jam bands and all things avant-garde. The latter most likely describes last night's function, the details of which I will post later.
Crusties, as the nickname would imply, are a dirty bunch, some so filthy that you can practically see the scabies flying off of them. They are like hippies in that they seem to relish in the idea of community. They stand really close to people and have no problem with asking someone, namely me, for a drag off a cigarette. Excuse me? I don't even let my friends take drags off my Parliaments. I'm certainly not going to share one with a stranger boasting a scab-encrusted lip piercing. I usually dig through my bag to just give them a full one.
"Oh, no, I just need a drag."
"Take it."
"It's okay."
"Dude, just take it!"
Okay, so that part didn't happen last night, but it has happened enough times in the past to help illustrate my point. I can handle a lot of forms of contrived weirdness. Given, however, that I am still a sometimes over-hygienic American, I can't handle crusties. Apparently, neither can Megan.
So we chatted almost endlessly throughout the course of the night as to why people don't feel the need to shower at least sometime during the day before they go out to a club that is crowded and sticky hot. Do they think that people won't notice?
Then I wondered if people actually do notice that everyone seems to back away from them, but they attribute it to their fiercely individualistic, anti-corporate look. People, hear me now, Ritual de lo Habitual came out over fifteen years ago. Nobody cares if you have rainbow-colored dreadlocks and wear a dress over jeans. Nobody even cares if you are a guy wearing a dress over jeans and have a five-pound disk weighing down your earlobe. Take a shower and don't you dare try to mask the lack thereof by dousing yourself in patchouli oil.

Sadly, tonight marked the final Spy Club bash. However, as promised, the promoters went out with a bang.
Space Mtn opened up the night with a fairly lengthy set that sounded like a slightly wicked version of Hope Sandoval joined forces with Blonde Redhead. Not only does singer Dina Waxman have an incredible voice, but she has played with the Lemonheads, Emma Peel and Bedroom Walls, plus she was wearing twenty-eye Docs, which everyone should know are the all-around best dancing shoes in existence. Guitarist/Keyboardist Chris Jacks has worked with the Dust Brothers. That said, these musicians are pros and it really showed onstage.
The Tender Box has played Spy Club virtually every week of the club's six week run and tonight was by far the band's best set. They opened with "The Score," which reminds me of the Cure's "Never Enough," although Annie seems to disagree with me on that one. From the opening note of that song, The Tender Box blazed through twenty minutes or so of material bursting with rock swagger. It was like waiting for an explosion, knowing that this band has grown so tight and energetic that they have to become the next big thing. It's inevitable. The Tender Box is touring the West next month, so if you aren't in Los Angeles, check the band's page and make sure you attend a show.
After the bands, I met Matt from Violaine at the bar. He told me that next month's party will feature two bands he highly recommends, including Love Like Fire, a San Francisco group that he described as "like Lush, but with a cleaner sound." I also noticed on the club's webpage that the next party is a My Bloody Valentine event and, really, shouldn't everyone have a MBV shirt? I don't and already I know I want one to match the Slowdive shirt from last week's party.

The following is a list of things that I have been listening to during the course of the past month. Some selections are old, some are new. Some are dancey, some are not.

Full Lengths:

Madonna Confessions on a Dance Floor
Melissa and I discussed how Madonna's lyrics range from mediocre to flat-out terrible ("New York," need I say more?), but man can she pick the perfect producer for the moment. The bulk of this album was produced by Stuart Price (Jaques Le Cont, Les Rhythmes Digitales, Zoot Woman). I love everything he touches and this is no exception.

Action Action An Army of Shapes Between Wars
An excellent sophomore effort from New York's Action Action, wherein the band takes the keyboard-punk sound of the first album and twists it into a fuller sound at times reminiscent of what one might hear on a Super Furry Animals record.

V/A Idol Tryouts Two: Ghostly International Vol. Two
Excellent two-disc compilation from Ghostly Records featuring a fine selection of electronic sounds, ranging from the synthpop of Solvent to Matthew Dear's minimal sound to the house influence on Daniel Wang's contribution.

Ursula Rucker Ma' at Mama
Lyrics too smart (and sometimes too dirty) to ever be played on the radio.

Split Enz History Never Repeats: The Best of Split Enz
Listen to the band that became Crowded House while learning about New Zealand history ("Six Months in a Leaky Boat").

Icicle Works S/T
You will recall "Whisper to a Scream (Birds Fly)" when you hear it, even if you swear that neither the title nor band name rings a bell. Then you will hear the rest of the album and wonder why this didn't resonate with you the first time around.

Tiefschwarz Eat Books
Some people are remixers. Others are producers. Tiefschwarz is both.

Editors The Back Room
I'll say it once more with feeling: New. Favorite. Band.

Singles:

Depeche Mode "A Pain That I'm Used To" (7")
The Goldfrapp mix is just okay, but you really want this for the B-side "Newborn (Foster Remix by Kettle)."

Depeche Mode "A Pain That I'm Used To" (12")
Bitstream Spansule mix is a minimal techno rendition of the band's second single from Playing the Angel. Bitstream Threshold has a more chaotic sound.

Man in Gray/Unsacred Hearts (split 7")
Man in Gray is like the band that you wanted to start after you heard Sonic Youth for the first time. That's good.

The Cloud Room "Waterfall" (7")
Well-written and well-performed song with that early-1980s modern rock sound. The flipside sounds like lo-fi Coldplay.

Annie "Me Plus One" (12")
The Rapture/Hush Hush mix is the killer here, a disco track that slowly unfolds across the dancefloor.

Munk "Disco Clown" (12")
The Digitalism mix is like an evil clown whose face glows against the blacklight of the club. The Midnight Mike mixes have a more joyful edge. Take your pick, all three mixes are great.

Solvent "Think Like Us" (12")
The Alter Ego mix is a killer electro number.

Depeche Mode "Behind the Wheel (Lexicon Ave. Mix)" (12")
This will pack the dancefloor anytime you play it. Trust me.

Vice v. MSTRKRFT (12")
MSTRKFT's remix of Bloc Party's "Two More Years" is so energetic that you might fall to your knees by the time it ends.

Looks like yours truly will be spinning on Fridays throughout February at Diskoteka in Los Angeles. This should be fun. Very fun.

A few years ago, I became acquainted with a pair of Morrissey fans, Laura and Steve, that I met through the club scene (although, technically, we were first introduced at a midnight screening of The Apple at the Nuart). Laura and Steve would make copies of various Smiths and Morrissey bootlegs complete with nifty cover art that they had designed. The most special of these bootlegs was a recording culled from the Kill Uncle tour. Pacific Amphitheatre. Costa Mesa, California. June 1, 1991. My first concert.
I sat hear today re-listening to that recording as I worked on an essay revolving around some stupid real-life event involving a Smiths song and thought back to that concert. I tried to like Kill Uncle, but it just couldn't compete with Morrissey's prior solo work, let alone his material with the Smiths. I once cried in utter frustration because the production bothered me so deeply. Then I saw him live.
Now I know that nothing really compares to a first concert and that my recollection of the event is probably clouded by the excitement of basking in Morrissey's aura. However, after re-listening to this recording, I think I can objectively say that Morrissey is far better live than on record. The super-slick sheen across Kill Uncle that bothered me so was stripped during the performance along with his sheer black shirt, leaving the songs more impassioned and raw than anything I could have previously imagined.
Last week on Underground's website, I read that Morrissey is planning a huge tour in support of his upcoming album, the details of which can be found on this Morrissey site. I think I might have to go and would humbly suggest that anyone who has never seen Moz live takes the time to attend at least one performance.

If you didn't heed my wisdom from a previous post regarding the closing sale for JDC (although, technically, I think it's called the Record Stop on PCH, right around Aviation next to the 7-11 in Hermosa Beach), do yourself a favor and go before the store closes its doors on Wednesday.
Carlos and I went yesterday afternoon and, boy, did we have fun. I think Carlos hit the score of the year when he came across a cover-remix of "Blue Monday" released on Fun House Records in 1986. It has that mid-1980s New York house kick to it that makes the track something special to hear in the midst of a night of sweaty 4/4 antics.
I picked up a small stack of records, but by far the biggest find for me was a copy of Lush's Desire Lines EP from 1994, featuring Suga Bullit remix of "Lovelife" that winds portions of Miki and Emma's vocals around a hip-hop-by-way-of-Hacienda beat. Not only have I never seen this on vinyl before, but I snagged it for under a dollar (part of a three records for $2.50 deal)! Another sweet treat is the copy of Roni Griffith's "Desire" 12", which I found for $3. Who is Roni Griffith, you ask? I'm not sure, but it's a Bobby O. production and since Bobby O. is a master for referencing himself, "Desire" is nearly identical to the Flirts' "Passion."
Some stuff left in the store that my interest you, dear readers, include quite a 12" selection from the likes of Fancy, Fun Fun and other Italo-Disco outfits, lots of early house and buckets of rock, soul and hip-hop records of the vintage and often rare variety.

I ended the weekend with Carlos and Juan at Club London, where we had gone to show our support for Xavier, who was playing a very Peter Hook-sounding bass with Sixteen Days. Now, I generally don't go out on Sunday nights and, after hitting London last night, I realized that I am missing out on some good fun.
The Club London DJs (and, for the record, I have played two of their previous events) play the best selection of new wave sounds you will ever have the chance to hear in Los Angeles. It is one continuous mix of songs that yours truly used to get in trouble for playing at a certain other 1980s-themed club because they weren't mainstream enough. We caught James' set and he had me dancing even when I wasn't dancing. Here are some of the highlights:
1) Songs that we didn't immediately or fully recognize, but sounded like either Camouflage or Cause & Effect.
2) This Mortal Coil's cover of Modern English's "Sixteen Days" flawlessly mixed with Depeche Mode's "Photographic"
3) The Clash (I just blanked on the name of the song) mixed with Fad Gadget's "Lady Shave" mixed with Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy"
4) Martin Gore's "Compulsion" (it doesn't matter what bookended this piece, it's that good of a song)

Melissa poses for the camera.


Daniel does a Stevie Nicks spin, sans tambourine.



Daniel and Liz dance the only way you can to "Black Metallic" by Catherine Wheel.



Who knew Homo Bin Laden was going to be in Chinatown that night?



Daniel finishes his Stevie Nicks spin and tries for a Mick Jagger strut.

All photos taken by Balthazar Monsoon

"How do you dance to this song?" Daniel asked. "I'm not sure that I've ever danced to this before."
I grabbed Daniel by the hand, spinning and dipping him to Catherine Wheel's "Black Metallic," which seemed to be the only way to successfully move to a slow, plodding beat and multiple drum rolls.
Violaine is a monthly party dedicated to shoegaze, ethereal and dreampop. It is a dance club where it is actually incredibly difficult to dance to most of the songs. It is, essentially, a goth club where one can wear jeans.
Yes, we saw a lot of looks that seemed to fabulously mismatch goth and indie wardrobes. Girls with black bobbed hair dressed mod dress-and-cardigan combinations with thick-soled black buckle boots. Boys wore suits with teased hair. There were a few new-new wave outfits mixed with spooky eye make-up, Sari-influenced outfits done up in black instead of pink and t-shirts of little-known 4AD artists worn with jeans. The best look, however, was the guy who wore a white button-up shirt with a black mohair jacket, a black-and-white scarf tied in an Edwardian (I think) fashion and Dickies. I say this with the utmost sincerity, Violaine attracts the most interesting crowd I have seen in sometime.
We mostly listened to The Nogoego from outside as Daniel pestered Megan with questions about New Jersey and Bon Jovi.
"Daniel, that's rude!" I scolded. "That's like assuming that every gay man loves Madonna."
"My point, every gay man does love Madonna!" he argued.
Okay, making this point to a guy who refers to Madonna as the Queen probably wasn't smart on my part.
The Nogoego, however, did seem pretty smart. It sounded like a full band but the stage featured only one guitar-playing dude and his laptop.
Timonium played a nice set as well. The band plays on Pehr, which is a label I highly enjoy and recommend, reminds me of the Autumns without the sky-high vocals.
It was also a Slowdive tribute night and Melissa and I managed to acquire Slowdive/Club Violaine t-shirts that are fairly huge on us and might make nifty Slowdive minidresses. Maybe it's time to start busting out the leggings. Do we dare?
The dancing, though, was rough, even for folks like us who used to go to goth clubs multiple times per week (and someone like me whose first resident gig was at a goth club). At points we got the hang of it. The music formerly known as trip-hop (Portishead, Massive Attack) is just our normal dance music slowed down to a snail crawl. Ocean Blue's "Drifting Falling" is roughly the same tempo as the average Britpop song, so that wasn't a problem. However, Lush's "De-Luxe" is by far the most difficult song to ever try and bust a groove alongside. Don't bother trying it. You will look like a jerk. I'm sure we looked like jerks. However, we had a good time.