What is there to say when you watch a legend do their thing? Nothing really, because the experience cannot be translated into words, at least to give it justice. You just had to be there. Still, words can help give you a sort of Plato’s the Cave version of how Kim Gordon rocks hard as f*ck.
I was greeted by two fluffy canines and a ticket vendor at the Lodge Room ticket entrance for Sasami, the two curious and friendly dogs I would have definitely stolen if I got a chance. Despite not coming home with new friends, calm dogs at the entrance are always a good sign.
The sold-out show was hot, packed, and cramped, with just a crack of space between the bar and the stage. Of course, mostly everyone was near the stage, waiting for singer-songwriter Cornelia Murr to appear. In a corner, her keyboardist was drinking raw milk, reading lyrics sheets in a bubble of her own little world. Everyone else was too busy looking at the stage, talking, or sipping their drinks to notice.
What better day to have an album release concert for a heavy shoegaze band than Black Friday, an American holiday associated with violence, death, and mindless consumerism—you know, all the things that Thanksgiving tries to repress about the U.S.
The East Coast-born Orion Sun has been quietly making moves for years, and her hard work has paid out large dividends, culminating in two sold at shows at the Fonda in Los Angeles this past weekend.
Tucked in a far corner behind the bar, a long Kubrickesque hallway with liminal energy guides music fans to the main ballroom. A warm-toned guitar doused in reverb, underscored by loud percussion, emanates from that back room and trembles Zebulon like a powerful earthquake.
On a cold, fall night, the warm embers of music attract flocks of people looking for emotional shelter—in this case, the location was The Fonda in Hollywood. sweet93 (Chloe Kohanski) opened with soft indie rock. Kohanski sang as she hid behind her hair and microphone. An unknown cloaked guest (possibly singer-songwriter Olivia O.) in a sweet93 hoodie danced on stage with the live band like Bez from the Manchester-founded post-punk group Happy Mondays would do.
Friday night is the time when all the ghouls and goth kids flock to their temple. In this case, they were at The Bellwether to witness the magnetically defiant Mannequin Pussy perform. This sold-out show did not disappoint. Mannequin Pussy were able to smoothly transition from mellow, catchy tracks from I Got Heaven like “I Don’t Know You” to more snarling deep cuts like “Perfect,” frenzying the crowd into an electrifying mosh pit. “Say pussy,” screamed lead singer Missy, driving the crowd further into a fury.
The residual heat languidly rose from the black pavement in Highland Park on this quiet Thursday night. I walked into the Lodge Room to Olivia O fiddling on stage with her acoustic and loop pedals, a person with a goblin mask to the side of her sat very still with a sign that read “Questions With No Answers.”
Spring time is waning, the snow is melting away from the mountains, the ocean is getting warmer from south swells coming from the very active tropics, and the IDLES flower is blooming and inciting crowd surfing and mosh pits—with love of course.
Addison Rae's “Headphones On” features an infectious trip-hop beat and meta lyrics about getting lost in music, making this song postmodern, cerebral ear candy. In the key of F#m, “Headphones On” cleverly relies on the minor key’s harmonic tension and darkness to imbue its riffs with drama.
If you’ve listened to “American Teenager” by Ethel Cain and “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, you may have heard some similarities between the two. But do you know why they sound similar?
I Love You, Honeybear, an album that transformed Father John Misty from some Fleet Foxes drummer to a mythical frontman, turns 7 today. To celebrate, I decided to psychoanalyze this amazing record.
