This is a recap of last night's action-packed show at the Key Club featuring DJ Jason Forrest, Every Move a Picture, Rock Kills Kid and Electric 6.

• DJ Jason Forrest started out playing psyche rock, apparently because he thought there were still hippies in Los Angeles. There are, but they rarely leave Topanga and Laurel Canyons. I moved towards the front of the stage and glanced towards the guy next me. He looked familiar. For some reason, I could picture him in short-shorts and a midriff-top. Could it be? Nah. But, in a city of actors, isn't it likely that, at some point I might find myself next to the boyfriend of Edina Monsoon's estranged son, Serge, that she adopted at the end of the last episode because Serge wasn't gay enough? I wanted to ask, but really, how do you approach such a subject? If he wasn't, in fact, the actor who filled that role, wouldn't he be offended by someone thinking that she saw him in short-shorts and a midriff-top?
• After his psyche-rock set, Jason Forrest moved into his own material, which is more like a sound collage than a mash-up. I realized later that he is Donna Summer (no, not that Donna Summer), the person who provided a 7" Tony Basil tweak-out that I used to play at Transmission ages ago. Forrest let his tracks play and danced around like a spastic rock fan. This is a picture of him in action.
  

And this is him after the conclusion of a flawless number that included bits of the GoGos and J. Geils Band.

• Every Move a Picture hail from San Francisco. They are well-dressed, write tight songs and perform with great vigor and intensity. I look forward to hearing their album.
• Rock Kills Kid have one of the best albums I have heard this year. (Although, it isn't out until April 25. Pre-order, friends. You won't regret it.) I'm actually working on an article about the band right now, so I can't say too much, lest I inadvertently plagiarize myself. However, there is a good reason why "Paralyzed" was number one of the Furious Five at Nine last night. It's a killer rock song, easy to memorize and will be stuck in your head for hours. I hope the band eventually releases "Midnight," which has a bit of a Daft Punk vibe to it, as a single because it will pack dancefloors across the US. RKK didn't play "I Need You," which is my current favorite for purposes of DJing. They did, however, provide a dead-on rendition of "Lips Like Sugar" (and this is from someone who has seen Echo and the Bunnymen perform that song).

Here are some pics of RKK in action:

• I mentioned yesterday that I have been plagued by the ohrvurm (earworm) of him. Specially, "Wings of a Butterfly." While en route to the show last night, I managed to play "Paralyzed" enough times to remove the former ohrvurm from my mind. Then RKK left the stage and what do I hear over the PA? "Rip out of the wings of a butterfly..." Now, it's back with a vengeance.
• When Carlos and I first saw Electric 6 at the Troubadour a few years ago, we were slightly disappointed because, even though the band does put on a great show, a lot of the sounds from Fire didn't translate well in a live setting. Fortunately, that was not the case with last night's performance. Electric 6 were on, well, fire. I ended up at the back of the club at this point because every beefy dude in the audience (and there were a lot) felt the need to squeeze up towards the front. Personally, I didn't feel like staring a the broad shoulders of some 6'5" former football player all night, so I leaned against the back wall. The band played a good chunk of both the old and new material and the crowd was receptive to both.
• Apparently, the show at the Galaxy Theatre in Orange County on the previous night didn't go so well. Dick Valentine asked where all the people in the Key Club were the night before. His Orange County rant went something like this (it's a rough quote typed from memory): "I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and, you know that Toadies song from the 1990s, that was on the radio. It goes 'Do you want to die. Do you want to diiie. Do you want to diiiie.' In Orange County, the answer was yes. On the Sunset Strip, the answer is no." Valentine then remarked that anywhere is better than Detroit right now, to which the heckler next to me responded: 'Poseurs! Why are you dissing Detroit? That's where you suckled at your mama's teat! Sellouts!'
• For the encore, the band came out and played a few bars of what sounded like "Master of Puppets." Then they dropped the instruments and walked off, leaving only Valentine and the keyboardist to perform "Jimmy Carter," the lead single off the last album. Why is it that, these days, it seems like only Electric 6 and Matt Stone and Trey Parker can make social commentary entertaining?
• After "Jimmy Carter," the whole band emerged back onstage and Valentine announced the next song as being "from 1983." After a few notes, I thought, Oh, no they aren't! In fact, Electric 6 covered "Stand Back" by Stevie Nicks, the song that I hated until I became an adult and realized I loved it, with such sincerity and finesse that I had to call Balthazar Monsoon almost immediately to tell him all about it. I would have called Daniel too, but I thought that Daniel might get upset that someone did cover his Stevie.
  

Rock Kills Kid, who I mentioned before a few days ago and who you have probably heard a few dozen times on KROQ in the past few weeks, is playing tonight at the Key Club. RKK is opening for Electric Six, who are incredibly fun live and incredibly funny in person (when I interviewed Dick Valentine a few years back, he tried to convince me that he got rabies earlier that day from deer spit). According to RKK's My Space page, Nightmare of You is on the bill as well. However, Nightmare of You does not have this date listed on their page, which makes me confused and sad, especially after I managed to get "I Want to be Buried in Your Backyard" stuck in Carlos' head. As for myself, I have "Wings of a Butterfly" from him (as in the Finnish metal band) stuck in my head, which is just sort of disturbing. Anyhow, it does not appear as though the show is sold out, so I suggest you get tickets and join us for some rock action tonight.

For those not inclined to head down to the Sunset Strip tonight, Mad Staring Eyes is playing at Underground. They're from London and, really, Larry and Dia know how to pick to the bands, so it should be pretty damn good.

Winston and the Telescreen don't play in Los Angeles very often, so you have to see them tonight at the Lava Lounge. (Unfortunately, I'll be in class.) Trust me, I have seen the band twice (once at the Hard Rock Cafe at the Beverly Center and once in Balthazar Monsoon's backyard) and can personally attest to the fact that this band will make you swoon. The band is playing at 11:00 p.m.

Also, I just read that Winston and the Telescreen are playing Cobalt Cafe on March 20. Given that this is a Monday night and at a venue smack in the middle of the 818, I will be attending the show. You should too, especially if you're one of my Valley friends who likes to go on about being too tired to head out on a 10-15 minute drive to Hollywood. I will be emailing all of you because I really don't want to be the oldest person in the crowd. ;-)

I think I actually play about 5% of what I intend to play at gigs. For example, last night, I really wanted to try a new Tommie Sunshine remix of the latest single from the Sounds, "Tony the Beat," but I couldn't get the CD player to function. That also meant that I couldn't play the new Ellen Allien/Apparat release, as I only have it on disc. In the meantime, I forgot to play the new Virgin Tears v. Dave the Hustler. That sort of stuff happens more often than not. I might think Song A sounds great followed by Song B at home but then I will change my mind and play Song C instead, following it with Songs D, E and F in the process.
The two sets from last night went over well, though. Lots of people dancing to Rock Kills Kid, which kind of reminds of what could have happened if the Rapture emulated ELO instead of the Cure. "I Need You" has a thick disco bass and a chorus that reminds of "Don't Bring Me Down" for reasons I can't quite understand myself. You really should pick up this song if you have a chance.

Set 1:
Rock Kills Kid-- I Need You
Shannon-- Let the Music Play
A Flock of Seagulls-- Wishing
Martin Gore-- Compulsion
Primal Scream with Kate Moss-- Some Velvet Morning
Kraftwerk-- Tour de France (Remix)
Les Rythmes Digitales-- Hey, You, What's that Sound? (12" Mix)
Inner City-- Good Life (Mayday Mix)
Tiefschwarz-- Warning Siren
Prince-- Controversy (White Label Mix)
Munk-- Disco Clown (Midnight Mike Version)
Lopazz-- Blood (Tiefschwarz Mix)

Set 2:
Goldfrapp-- Ooh La La (Tiefschwarz Dub)
Zoot Woman-- It's Automatic (Cosmos v. Zoot Woman Club Mix)
Dot Allison-- Substance (Felix da Housecat Mix)
Erland Oye-- The Black Keys Work
Grom-- Wait for Me (Needlelust Mix)
Garbage-- Androgyny (Thee Glitz Mix)
Erasure-- Solsberry Hill (Manhattan Clique Mix)
Jay Harker-- Bela Lugosi's Dead
Queen v. Vanguard-- Flash (Tomcraft Mix)
Bloc Party-- Two More Years (MRSTKRFT Mix)

I happened to walk past a television that I had neglected to turn off after I finished watching One Life to Live and went back to work. Oprah was on. I loathe Oprah. Really, I do. Everytime I see the crowd cheer for her like she will single-handedly save the world and convince you to buy one of her favorite things, my stomach drops like I just ate sour cream a few hours past its prime. But, today, I stopped only because she was talking to a scruffy-hot British guy.
Oh, I thought, is that James Blunt?
It was, in fact, the former bodyguard for Queen Elizabeth-turned-performer of the number one single in the United States. He talked a lot about Elton John. Then he sat down behind a piano and introduced his final song as "miserable."
"Goodbye My Lover" has to be the most depressing song I have ever heard. If you took the entire Smiths catalogue, mixed with the Cure's Pornography album and sprinkled bits of Joy Divison's "Love Will Tear Us Apart," Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" and Simply Red's "Holding Back the Years," you would still have a more upbeat number. It isn't just the lyrics will manage to bring up every pathetic thought that has gone through your head while at your most lovelorn, it's the way his voice cracks with the end of every bar and the look in his eyes, like it's just going to start tearing up at any second. By the time he ended the song, I needed a cigarette, even though I had one less than an hour before.
Thanks a lot for ruining my day, James Blunt. I think I might have to go buy your cd.

Yours truly spinning with Ned Lerner and Kyle S. down at What the DJ Wants, located inside Carbon.

9300 Venice Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA

Free!!!!!!

Intercepted and transcribed by Beto, in the wee hours of the morning of March 3rd.




. . . as always, our craft was under cloak mode as were our independent persons. The Mayan Theatre in the Downtown LA sector seemed like a suitable edifice to land upon. Luckily, while waiting for repairs to our ion engines, we had something to take control of our idle time. We heard a constant pulsation of tremendous and exhilarating low sonic force coming from down under. We put on our holographic human facades and joined what were to become some semi-tribal festivities.

The focus of the night was a Homo Sapien named Satoshi Tomiie from one of the ultramodern, according to their cultures, islands of this world named Japan. He was oscillating between some primitive audio gear made out of petroleum derivatives, manipulated photons and assorted metal alloys with varying, flattened spherical silver cartridges going in and out of slots, much like our Halaharps. The architecture was decorated throughout with echoes of ancient relics from a more southern terrain. The lightscape was coordinated in a richly colored, hypnotic shimmer that visually vibrated along with the tones of the evening. The ten Faton high sonic towers which were strategically placed around this resonating temple had a penetrative force reminiscent of our Vibrason tanks back home. The depths of the almost subsonic and timely charges were teasing one of my upper hearts into a faster rhythm that caused my pair of stomachs to quiver and shudder with undelightful gastric disturbances. Well, as long as I was fifteen to twenty Fatons away, the ghastly sensations would dissipate.

Satoshi seemed to have been some kind of priest leading a cosmic ceremony. My eavesdropping on certain characters had led me to the borrowing of the word that can describe the music he played. It was considered Tech-House. There was a common thread to the painting of the sonic picture, the constant low end drive with off beat, metallic shivers here and there with well placed miniature interludes. The broad spectrum of sound was definitely recharging our subconscious remnants. Of course this would be a primitive description because of the infinite variables that could come out of the music. All was done with perfect and organic precision. I could not decipher any lapses in timing whatsoever in the audiosphere that everyone was mesmerized by. Even we fell victim to it by clinging to the tick-tock of the metronome that was governing us by, how shall I say, working us to " groove " to the beat.

All in all, the collective of Satoshi, music and creatures became some kind of psychic organism of it ' s own that could be felt in the middle of the ocean of ceremonious thrills and for a brief moment I caught and lost myself feeling somewhat connected to these. . . . . . . people. . .

:::transmission abruptly disconnected:::


Satoshi Tomiie
Liquified

When I read this post about My Chemical Romance, Nirvana and the irrelevance of music journalism, I had to send the link to Contributor Mary the Millwhistle. Neither one of us can make the claim that we are MCR fans and both of us seem to agree that Nirvana was overrated, even though we were somewhere between the critical points of 14 and 15 when Nirvana hit big. So, with us, it was not whether one band was/is better than the other, it's just something to think about-- does music journalism ignore what is going on with youth culture? Is critical acclaim necessary? Does it even matter? After all, with My Space, blogs and the rest of the Internet music world moving at a new download a minute, who is to say that Generation Y even reads music magazines? Maybe there is a study on that somewhere, but I don't have it.
This brings us to a very sound point. Quoth the Millwhistle, "I am going to be very curious to see if anyone is still talking about MCR in five years, though. The problem with being HUGE for this generation of teens is they all have the attention spans of gnats. Nostalgia means less to the internet age than it does to those of us who had to save letters on paper, I think: people come and go and are forgotten much faster, so I'm not sure what kind of permanence any band will wind up having for these kids."
She's right on target here. I mean who now cares about Whatever It Takes (WIT), a band that was in the pages of virtually every cool magazine and name-dropped on all the hip websites in 2002?
This isn't to diss MCR or help fan the fires of Nirvana worship. While I'm not a fan of the former, I can respect that they put in the work to earn and maintain a strong fanbase. As for Nirvana, well, even Kurt Cobain said in interviews that he wasn't doing anything that the Pixies, Mudhoney, et. al. weren't already doing. (Mind you, I can't remember which interview it was, but I think I read in a book fairly recently, so if I find it, I'll amend the post.) I'm also not dissing Nirvana. They released solid albums and Kurt did look pretty awesome in a yellow ballgown. However, with music, there really only are two kinds of significance. One can be significant for a completely objective reason-- he/she was a pioneer in the development of a genre (i.e. Black Sabbath and metal), was the first to implement a specific technology, broke some gender, race or other cultural barrier, etc. Then there are matters of personal significance. I think, for a lot of people, Nirvana would fall into this category, because, no matter how often one insists that Nirvana was a great band and no matter how many critics polls one can find to substantiate that statement, there will always be someone to argue against it. Conversely, one cannot argue that Kraftwerk was a band making music solely by electronic means in an era dominated by heavy guitars, which is a noteworthy feat.
With this in mind, I have to wonder why people are adamant to the point of nastiness on music pages. Music is subjective by nature-- what is the perfect song for Band A is not the perfect song for Band B. This holds true for fans. I consider the Cure's Disintegration to be the best album I have ever heard. Some people might think that to be ridiculous, that, obviously Rubber Soul or Nevermind or [insert any other critically lauded release here] should be at the top of the list. Those albums, though, never made the hairs prickle under my tights the same way Disintegration did, just as some other album did it for you. If we get bogged down in what is considered important and what is deemed disposable, then we might as well just wander through life with the same iPod playlists. How boring is that?

Larry from Underground will be broadcasting his first show for Little Radio tomorrow night from 8-10 p.m. He has excellent taste in music, so you should listen and take notes.

Some times I feel I'm on a neverending quest to find a decent bar in the I.E. (read 909/951 area codes). While celebrating the birthday of Paul from Winston and the Telescreen with some friends, we found ourselves at Worthington's in Riverside. I never thought so many bros could assemble in one place (until I went to the Yard House at Victoria Gardens the following night). I thought the amount of bros would deter my fun, yet it didn't. The DJs spun some good songs (from vinyl!), like a Cure mash-up, some dirrty R&B song that sounded more classy than dirty, and old (read: still black) Michael Jackson. The dancefloor was a bit crowded, but Gaby was able to create some room by shaking her ass on other people who invaded her space. All in all, Worthington's isn't a bad bar. Drinks are reasonably priced and the music is good. If that doesn't work for you, there's always the gay bar next door. Worthington's is located in Riverside, on University, just east of Lime Street.

Water Moccasin and I were thisclose to going to Bar Sinister so that we could observe a certain friend of mine as he hung out with models. I guess it was best that I stayed in on account of the articles I have to finish this week and all. But, in all seriousness, I have to go to Bar Sinister soon.
Despite the fact that the Saturday night party at Boardner's has been around for a few years, I have never attended. In fact, it's been a good three or four years since I have entered any sort of goth party, mostly on account of the fact that I lack the appropriate clothing and forgot the dance moves. I have to re-goth myself, not because of the article that I posted about the other day (which a certain contributor found in his school's library and is sending to me) or because I have an overwhelming desire to dance to Wolfsheim, but because I need to taste the Black Dahlia.
If you take a look at the Cauldron section of the club website, you will note the Saturday night specials. The Black Dahlia looks like it will soon become the best drink I have ever sipped. Vanilla vodka, kahlua, chambord and cherries. Damn, I think I'm dragging someone out with me next weekend just so that I can get one.

My favorite Water Moccasin, Megan, has posted new pics of Brant Bjork, Fatso Jetson and Chuck Dukowski. Check them out.