It just so happened that the three events I had planned to attend last night were positioned in a nearly straight line heading from Beverly Hills to West Hollywood. And so, in one of those oddly un-Los Angeles moments, I actually was able to attend all three events.

My brother and I started off the night heading down the 405 to Beverly Hills, listening to Lions Basketball on KXLU along the way (we won). Our first stop was Gibson, makers of fine guitars and other instruments, for the Global Battle of the Bands. GBOB takes place tonight and, as one of the judges, I was invited to the pre-party.

We didn't know a soul in there and since half the conversations we overheard were regarding guitars, we stuck to ourselves. We walked back and forth through the venue trying to figure out from where each band hailed. The group that played, The Waking Hours, had to be an L.A. band because one of the guys was wearing a vintage Western shirt and all of the members had Silver Lake shaggy hair. Our best guess was that the guy who looked like Jesus and the girl with the poncho, knit cap and flip-flops were from up north, probably Chico. All of the dudes who looked like Axl Rose as he emerged from the Indiana bus on the Sunset Strip had to be from either Indiana or somwhere else that isn't Los Angeles. The emo kids, I thought, were either from the Midwest or Orange County.

We left after The Waking Hours set and drove across Santa Monica and up Doheny to The Strip, where we parked in the last available lot minutes before they changed the rate from $8 to $10. We stood outside The Roxy for almost an hour, groaning as the gaggle of 15-year-old girls with oversized Gucci and Chanel handbags pushed through the crowd. That is never a good sign.

When we finally made our way inside the completely sold-out club, a guy in a zebra striped Mexican wrestling mask was exiting the stage. Obviously, The Hairbrain Scheme had something going that we should have witnessed.

Whitestarr followed. My friend, the one who suggested that I start playing Muse in my club sets back in 2001, had told me that Whitestarr ranks as the worst opening band he has seen. Once again, my friend was right. The minute they hit the stage to a roomful of screams and shouted something about "Motherfuckers" ready to "fuckin' rock," we knew that it was going to be a long, excrutiating set.

I'm not sure that mere words can capture the myriad ways in which Whitestarr sucks. It is as if every horrific aspect of The Sunset Strip (rock for the sake of rock without any attempt to carry a tune, people who actually idolize Motley Crue for its debauchery) is rolled up in this band. I am not sure what Spin was thinking when it decided to actually listed this crapfest as Artist of the Day. Oh, I know, half the band is entertainment spawn and singer Cisco Adler is Mischa Barton's boyfriend! Now it makes perfect sense.

My brother said that Barton's character on The O.C. was known for her bad taste. He is now convinced that Barton is a method actress and dating Adler is just helping to keep her in character. You know, I think sometimes method actors can't shake their roles even when they are killed off the show.

Without question, this was the worst band I had ever seen live. I'm not sure how someone who grew up in Malibu can have such a poor command of the English language that he cannot complete a sentence, let alone a song lyric, without dropping an F-bomb. The band played without any reference to such conventions as hooks or rhythm sections. And they played for eons, extending nearly every song past the seven-minute mark, even though seven seconds would have been sufficient. The closest thing this band has to a redeeming quality is a go go dancer who looks like Ron Jeremy as Lawrence of Arabia. I thought of the name for the potential film as well, but my brother said that it sounded like something that was probably used before (i.e., it was that perfect of a porn title). When Adler started talking to the crowd about how the band was going on tour and he wasn't going to have sex for a while (I presume that Barton was in the audience) and the whole crowd needed to engage in an orgy, I yelled "Shut up!" I have never, ever heckled anyone in my life before this night. Ask any of my friends. We have seen so many bands over the years ranging from mediocre to awful and, still, I have always managed to maintain my composure. This time I couldn't help it. I had to walk out of the club right after that. Then I walked back inside. I made a remark to my brother and one of my friends that I don't understand how people can scream for a band this awful. The girl in front of me, who was with a photographer, turned her head and nodded in agreement. We left the club again and stood outside, where I warned my friends of the dangers of Whitestarr via text messages and we waited to hear something that didn't sound live.

Ima Robot made up for Whitestarr. Although the set seemed a tad too long, the band was unnervingly energetic. Midway through the performance, they invited the crowd onstage. We spotted a Rockit writer dancing alongside Alex Ebert. After the song, they kicked the band off the stage and, naturally, it took about five minutes for the band to regain control of the mics and find the clothing that was swiped off their backs. Towards the end, they asked the crowd to throw money onto the stage and pennies fell like a windblown deluge pushing the rain flat against the face.

After the show, we drove back up to Santa Monica and across the boulevard down to Underground. Annie was working the door and Dave was just leaving as we entered the club. We met this guy Robert, who directed the Mates of State video for "Like U Crazy," which features a cameo appearance by Dave. Here's the video. You will enjoy it.



We stayed at the club for about a half-hour, maybe longer, then hopped on the 101 and headed back to the Valley, cruising around the freeway curves as "Sit Down" by James played on 103.1. It was a great evening.

I've loved Pet Shop Boys since I heard the first pulsating progression on "West End Girls" and they're one of the major components on the soundtrack of my life. I remember them echoing over the sound system in the Broadway as I hissed at my mom to keep quiet so I could listen while I picked out the perfect zebra-print jacket (it was the 80s, need I say more?). Their tracks were the highlight at every dance I went to in junior high and Discography was a treasured tape in my Walkman that kept me company on boring bus journeys before I had a driver's license. They were also one of the few synth bands that were actually played on KIIS FM and I loved them so much I even halted a make-out session in favor of dancing to "Always On My Mind" at a club one night. Yeah, they're that good! I was really anxious to see their long-awaited arrival back in L.A. and they didn't disappoint.

They opened with pairs of body-double dancers backed by an illuminated stage set that resembled something similar to Ikea meets Hollywood Squares. While the icy "Psychological" has a bit of a slower beat, they audience quickly jumped in appreciation as "Left To My Own Devices" slammed through the speakers. Neil and Chris asked "Can You Forgive Her?" and made it clear that "I'm With Stupid" right before they took us to "Suburbia" for a "Minimal" "Shopping" spree. They also reminded us that they loved us for paying their "Rent." A somberness showed while "Dreaming of The Queen" had footage of Princess Diana's fan and flower-strewn funeral procession and an emotional "Heart" had us dancing once more. There were lots of "Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money)" to keep dancing as "Integral" ended and a twenty minute interval began.

While the sweaty masses queued for over-priced booze at the bar, the guy standing next to me said that he and his wife had been married 15 years and he played "Heart" when they went on their first date! He also said this was the first concert he had ever gone to where the line for the men's restroom was longer than the women's. "Well it is a Pet Shop show," I mused and he knew what I was talking about. As we headed back to our seats it was definitely boys versus girls and I'm not talking about the band!

We were all a bit "Numb" as the high-energy "Se A Vida E (That's The Way Life Is)" dove into "Domino Dancing." Neil commented that the audience was "Flamboyant" and played the heartfelt almost-acoustic "Home and Dry" and threw in my favorite dance-to ballad "Always On My Mind." We still had many things to see as they took us to a place "Where The Streets Have No Name (I Can't Take My Eyes Off You)" which is also home to the "West End Girls." "The Sodom and Gomorrah Show" sang of sinful sights as "So Hard" became a soulful segway to the raucous and repenting "It's A Sin." It was time to say sayonara as Neil praised his Los Angelenos for being "absolutely fabulous!" and decided to "Go West" for the final song of the night. Music, mayhem, costume changes and artistic expression--always Fundamental for Pet Shop Boys.

Maybe you have seen this already. Maybe not.

Given that I can't stand Kanye West, I didn't bother reading anything about the MTV Europe Awards outburst until Carlos told me that the guys he dissed were Justice.

This is Kanye West stomping all over Justice's moment (actually, the duo's representatives as they were still touring the U.S.).



This is the video that trumped Kanye West's million dollar, Pam Anderson-featuring clip.



Kanye West vs. Justice. Who has more cred?

Yours Truly on Ursula Rucker.

I should probably do a proper post at some point, but that work thing keeps getting in the way. Expect some exciting observations of the Sunset Strip over the weekend.

Why is it that I always end up on The Strip, a.k.a. Land of the $5 Sodas.

Ima Robot is playing tomorrow night at the Roxy and you can win tickets at The Rockit.

Depeche Mode on PopMatters.

Ruined Music on MTV.

http://www.papermag.com/

Today I came home and had to turn on the air conditioning. Same for yesterday.

This is really bizarre.

For those who've asked, I have a photoset online. What a fun night. I really wish I could say more about it, but the words just kind of escape me. Both headliners were completely on fire, Totally Radd!!'s music was no match for their costumes (dead-on 80s-era Macho Man, Bret "The Hitman" Hart, Ultimate Warrior, and Hulk Hogan), and the crowd was packed wall-to-wall, living it up. The only question I have (to those who attended) is: really, what kind of a person feels the need to get into a fistfight while the DJs are playing Technotronic?

Last night, sometime before or after The Knife's performance at the El Rey, I was talking to Liz in regards to her post last week about The Doobie Brothers. I asked her what she thought about Yacht Rock's take on the song. To my surprise, she was not aware of it. For those who don't know, Yacht Rock was an amateur series of rock biopics which ran last year that focused on the late 70s-early 80s "smooth rock" AOR that was popular with Boomers of the time, and ripe for semi-ironic appreciation by today's hipster contingent.

The first episode of Yacht Rock deals takes on the Doobies, and can be found here.

Update: it's also up on YouTube, just in case you have trouble viewing mp4s. Click here to see it.

The Knife sold out the El Rey last night in the biggest way possible. Despite a lack of ads, tickets had been largely unavailable for at least the past two weeks. In fact, it was only by happenstance that I was able to secure a second ticket so that I could take Carlos with me. At 9 p.m. last night, Wilshire Boulevard was crawling with scalpers searching for the ticketless, of which there were many. In fact, I would gather that all of the scalper tickets went considering that it was nearly impossible to walk inside the newly refurbished club.
Carlos and I hung out on the balcony before the show, sipping drinks and listening to a DJ play minimal techno. Somehow, our friends Robert and Bree stumbled upon us, which was odd considering that neither of us knew the others would be at the show (although, it was inevitable considering that we have been going on about The Knife in unison for the past few months). Then we had the chance to meet the legendary Green Pea-ness. We also ran into virtually every L.A. DJ who didn't have a gig booked that night.
Seconds before the show, the room went black. This wasn't your typical dim the lights for the performance moment. In the crowd, we couldn't see a thing unless we craned our necks enough to notice the orange neon square onstage. We thought it was planningtorock, as it seemed way too early for a headliner. In fact, it was The Knife. We ran downstairs.
Oddly enough, I had planned to wear three-inch heels but opted for flats at the last minute. I should have worn the heels. It seemed like the average-sized males in the audience were 6'3". All four of us had to stand on our tiptoes and try to slide up the El Rey walls in order to see anything more than the top portion of the skrim. Also, I should note that it was hotter than a Palm Springs nightclub inside the venue. I had to remove my sweater, which I am always loath to do.
I'm going to refrain from giving away too many details of the show, as I have to review it and don't particularly enjoy repeating myself. Besides, if you read the descriptions of the Webster Hall shows (here, here, here and here), you will get the idea. The performance didn't differ drastically. I will go on the record right now as saying it was too short of a performance. It felt like twenty minutes, althought it was probably much closer to an hour. Carlos described the end as being anticlimactic and he has a point. The duo just stopped playing and the lights went up while we were holding out for more.
After we all managed to find each other outside, the four of us headed over to T on Fairfax, which is the new joint operated by the guys who once owned the coolest bar L.A. ever had (The Parlour). We sat outside until closing sipping tea, eating dessert and discussing all sorts of random topics. We also made a vow that we will see Jeff Mills and Richie Hawtin on 11/24.