January 17, 2015. There was a rumbling in the earth, a whisper on the wind, and a single pale dove flew up to my window with a note in its beak. Pharout Magazine was returning from its hiatus and the legendary Burgerwolf was putting on a show at Bex I was to cover.
Now I don’t know much about Burgerwolf. I know not how he came to be, how he learned to grind meat with his bare hands, or for what past sadness he howls into the night sky. What I do know is that he consistently finds great bands to play for him, puts on a ton of regular shows, and gets people to go, none of which is easy to do by any stretch of the imagination. So of course I called up a Gorgeous Date to join me as I headed to Bex for the festivities. Immediately upon our completely punctual arrival, we noticed the lounge was packed. There was barely even a place for my Gorgeous Date and I to sit! Honestly, it was the biggest crowd I’d seen for a local show in a long time, since maybe the Desert Diva Dance off of 2015! Also, the lead singer of Elements of Kadence was happily running around the place with a selfie-stick taking candid photos of the whole event, very similar to what A GOOD JOURNALIST WOULD HAVE DONE.
While we waited for seats to open up, my Gorgeous Date and I looked around for familiar faces to ask about the line up in store for us. One such Mikey Mendoza let us know that we’d be experiencing heavy hitters such as Vultures of Vinyl, Litaoa, The Cellspringers, and Elements of Kadence.
Vultures of Vinyl has been playing show after show with crazy frequency and yet shows no signs of fatigue. Even with two of 3 members in multiple other bands, they deliver solid indie rock jams crooned out by the caramel-voiced Brian Burk that was so good, I might have blacked out a couple of times in the set. But, I remember for sure they ended the set with Radiohead’s classic “Creep” and had me waving my arms and screaming along.
Then came Litaoa. I have no idea what their name means but they’re a band who have been performing at least since I started going to local shows in 2007. After many attempts, I finally saw for the first time in 2014. They’re possibly the only local band from back then that’s still together and I can see why. They’re deep into the music. They played some stellar instrumental progressive rock that effortlessly jump from one time signature to another and giving fantastic displays that have earned them a spot as some of the most technically skilled musicians I’ve seen anywhere. I don’t know the titles of any of their songs but I have in my notes here that “the last song was a banger”.
Next up was The Cellspringers, an alternative rock band with some serious punk sensibilities. They brought a high-energy performance with lyrics charged with anti-establishment sentiments and they weren’t afraid to get shouty. And boy, do I love it when bands get shouty!
They also weren’t afraid to throw in an extended drum solo and boy, was that solo extended! It was so much fun! They definitely had my Gorgeous Date and I singing along. They had a couple of songs like, “Maneater” and “Basket Case” that, when introduced, I thought would be covers of Britney Spears and Green Day respectively. But, they turned out to be excellent originals. There was even a touching moment when we got to sing happy birthday to Grandpa Harry, a man with a stylish red hat who’s “82 but still here rocking out”. Even when things got a little too loud for him, he showed support. My favorite, though, had to be “I’ve Got A Hole in My Head” which is the kind of song I think anyone with a mouth, nostrils, or pores can relate to. They closed their set out with a Nine Inch Nails cover that had the whole room going wild.
Last up was Elements of Kadence, a heartfelt rock band that describes their genre as Rock Band with a strong influence from Incubus and Audioslave that at some points took me right back to the glory days of 2002, when I was a member of the chess club and first discovered the allure of electric guitars. They started off their night by letting us know how great it was to be back in California. They did not however, say it was great to be in Lancaster, which let us know they are true AV natives. They had just been on the Vans warped tour and I can see why. They’re a very polished and professional band and well rehearsed all the way down to the banter between songs. They had a lot of intense, punchy songs and even included a sweet anti-bullying tune. I have in my notes that I especially enjoyed the drumming.
This was all-in-all a great show although I wasn’t quite sure how to behave in the venue with the room as a blend between concert hall and restaurant dining area. We didn’t know how dancey we could get so my Gorgeous Date and I mostly stayed in our booth in the back. It seemed the other concertgoers felt similarly, which is a shame because I love to see people, especially such a large crowd, move around to such great music. I am definitely excited to get some dance pits started in future Bex shows of which I hope there are many as the atmosphere is excellent. And the sound guy! OH I almost forgot about him, he was absolutely my favorite part of the night. He kept the mix balanced and the vocals coming out clearly. A+ to him! Also they have good food and drinks available, everything a musician or a music lover would need especially with Burgerwolf pulling the strings.
Overall, I give the experience 23 out of 30 thumbs up.
If you’d like to hear Marlon’s thoughts on This Place is a Zoo’s album Strangers or Danstock in Lake Hughes, CA,
It seems like there are almost two sides to events, what is going on in the venue and the stories people are creating during the show. The potentially booze induced, hormone fueled nights your parents are afraid to tell you about. Some people having the night of their lives and others the worst. Regardless, the stories are the hidden narrative that aren’t usually discussed. So here’s one young woman’s recap of her night at West Hollywood’s Pride Festival. We hope you enjoy it.
“Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride” -Hunter S Thompson
On the Streets: LAPRIDE
Photo by Uver Verona
By Danielle White
Just south of Acton, I received a message from editor, Jesse Davidson asking if I could review my trip to West Hollywood’s GLBTQ PRIDE Festival. If I remember anything, I lamented. Asking a 22-year-old Los-Angeles-native alcoholic butch lesbian to refrain from getting blackout drunk at LAPRIDE was a lot to ask. But still, I persevered (mostly). Here is what I (am able to) recall from the past weekend.
THE DRIVE
After responding to Jesse’s request, I felt a surge of energy and excitement for the day to come. Just as quickly after, I felt my seatbelt strangle me because some asshole cut us off all the way from the far right lane. The dipshit missed his exit and thought he could take a chance and hug the off-ramp. I prayed to the SoCal Traffic Gods that ‘maybe you could just give me one trip to LA without this bullshit.‘ The SoCal Traffic Gods are blatantly awful at responding to prayer. So, I sparked a bowl of some foul tasting but stoney Humboldt Gold Rush and made goofy faces at passing drivers for about 2 hours. Upon arriving to Hollywood, we realized that we had overlooked one very vital part of our trip: fucking parking.
FUCKING PARKING
We had arrived. The sun was barely peeking through the morning marine fog, few people had actually started partying (“attending brunch” is what we call it in the GLBTQ community), and the smell of over-priced but still essentially cheap coffee was rich in the air. Though there were few human bodies to be found on otherwise busy Santa Monica Blvd, the amount of cars parked on the streets was unfathomable. There are approximately 3.5 million people in Los Angeles and I can almost guess that every single one of those motherfuckers was parked RIGHT THERE. We backtracked for 30 minutes or so, always minding Mary Jane and her rage-reducing charms. Eventually we ended up in a parking garage on La Cienega and Sunset. Mind you, the festival was about ¾ of a mile away, on a hot day in June, and we would be drinking heavily. We ignored these conditions because we saved $17 on parking being this far and that meant we could drink heavily-er. We parked the car and pounded three beers each before making our way onto the street.
GETTING DRUNK WHILE SURROUNDED BY DONGS
After the celebratory arrival beer, we wandered into the West Hollywood Pavilion’s Market and immediately bought more alcohol. After pounding a bottle of Malibu, we wandered for a bit before consuming a couple more beers we had left in the car. By this time I was already questioning my ability to form proper sentences, meanwhile watching in awe just how many people were showing up to the festival. Now, while I had imbibed in many alcohols and was feeling pretty confident in my physical appearance, I had NOTHING on the men of Gay Pride. Muscle-bound gym junkies in nothing more than banana hammocks flocked the streets. It was reminiscent of Red Hot Chili Peppers’ sock foray, if RHCP was 8000 dudes instead of four and everyone’s socks were a neon hue.
My girlfriend and I broke away from the group we were with to find a bathroom, as beer bladder had set in with a vengeance. Never have I seen so many live sausage links. And hopefully, I never will again. However, I did get $30 worth of free beauty products so it was totally worth it.
DJ’S
Three stages were presented: Top 40 Pop Stage, Hip-Hop Underground Stage, and the Main Stage, which played a mix of 80’s jams and queer culture hits before and between the live performances. I desperately tried not to get sweat on the entire time. Breathing was difficult. The music was awful. Point to the main stage for playing Echo and the Bunnymen and to the hip-hop stage for having male AND female go-go dancers.
PERFORMERS THAT AREN’T KE$HA
Who cares?
Wilson Phillips was there. And they were just as forgettable live as they were in 1994 on alt radio. I literally had to look up the band as I’m writing this. ‘What was that band that played before Ke$ha?’ I had asked myself. And I was sobering up at this point.
‘This is called “being responsible.” ’ I would tell myself, ‘This is what will help my article.’
Never was I so wrong. The prospect of seeing Ke$ha semi-sober hit me like a bag of bricks. So the lady and I set off on another adventure to acquire alcohol. We left the festival itself and hit the streets. I acquired a $4 bottle of Taaka and was approached by an elderly man with a gallon of Kessler. ‘Why not?’ I asked myself, and quickly helped to devour the 200+ ounces of cheap whiskey on the street behind Rage. I stumbled back into the park feeling like Barney from The Simpsons and fought my way to the main stage where Ke$ha would be playing.
THE FINAL ACT, KE$HA
I was nearly attacked by the crowd. Four thousand people in attendance, and I had chosen to stand in the very center. A young man in an obnoxious Hawaiian-style shirt elbowed me constantly in the ribs and his friends were fist-pumping into the back of my head. Ke$ha had barely reached the stage before I had had enough. I left the crowd and stood out on the side for an extra-echoey rendition of “Tick-Tock.” I can’t say whether or not I enjoyed the show, but I can say that finding lounge couches behind the vendors’ booths saved my life. Pride is an exhausting experience. I finished the show on my ass, and trekked the long way back to the car on jello knees before passing out in the passenger’s seat.
OVERALL
Overall, I would say PRIDE is a tradition of inebriation and over-indulgence. For those in the mood to party like animals and end up bruised and sore and probably hung-over perpetually for the week ahead, I’d say this is the place for you. As for myself, I’d say I’m getting way too old for this shit. I’ll stick to music festivals with carry-in seating and shows at small venues. Provided they have comfy chairs and fucking parking.
“Ladies and Gentlemen…you’re gonna shit.”- Dave Grohl
And I did. Multiple times. This became a reoccurring theme for the week. It started when this show was announced on Tuesday for the following Saturday night. Dave Grohl’s Rock n Roll Birthday Club! Mr. Grohl had summed my experience for the whole week and I didn’t even hear about it until that night. I was on the fence about getting tickets due to budgetary constraints. At least that’s what my head told me. But thankfully my girlfriend made the right decision and bought tickets for the both of us. I shit. Multiple times. It just goes to show that in life, especially in matters related to rock n’ roll, you can’t get wrapped in what your head wants. Fuck your head. If “God Gave Rock n Roll to You”, as a soon to be relevant person once sang, then you should go with your gut. It’s better than sitting at home leading a life of watching cat videos. Kittehs can wait. Rock can’t.
Rain plagued the 405 freeway from the start of it until we parked at the Forum. It’s almost appropriate given Dave’s Seattle roots that we were treated to a slew of Seattle weather. Along with the rain, there also seemed to be a quiet excitement in the air and being carried by each person entering the Forum that night. It could be argued that any arena show has an air of nervous excitement about it. But this is isn’t any arena show. This is the Foo Fighters. Surprise Foo Fighters no less. They are a rock band, in my opinion, that does it right. They follow traditions in rock n’ roll while also being able to do their own thing. Back in the day, Alice Cooper(foreshadowing) released School’s Out . The album folded out into an old-fashioned school desk and record itself was wrapped in a pair of panties. Foo Fighters released Wasting Light in 2011 and included a piece of the master tape in all the initial copies of the album. The Foo Fighters also play for two and a half- three hours at typical shows with no encore and as late as they want to. They only charged $50 for any seat at this show and gave $10 from each ticket to MusiCares, Sweet Relief Musicians Fund, and the Rock School Scholarship Fund. They’re doing it right. People can feel that. When we approached the gate were handed cards that said we are now members of Dave’s Birthday Club, I knew we were in for some of that magic.
This anticipation carried over until the start of the show. Given that we had about an hour or show before show time, I started talking with the people next to us. One of whom was also from the Antelope Valley. Small world. During this conversation, I also found out that the Foo Fighters had posted videos from KISS, Alice Cooper, Van Halen, Zakk Wylde, and a few others. The lights go down and the band runs to the stage in the center of the arena and start vamping on an A chord.
“HEYYYYYYY!” Dave Grohl yells. The crowd yells back
“HEYYYYYYY!”
“Welcome to the craziest fucking night of your entire life.”
Dave Grohl promised he had friends stopping by and he didn’t disappoint. “Ladies and gentlemen, PAUL STANLEY FROM KISS!” Not bad before the show has even started. His hair was majestic as the spotlight operators seated at the end of my section hit him with a blinding light. He sauntered up to the microphone like his usual Stanley self. “HOW YOU DOIN?! ITS DAVE’S BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVE!” And then proceeded give the crowd jazz hands then to go into Detroit Rock City. I’m not a KISS fan but that is a pretty badass way to start a show. After the song, the band immediately transitions into a vamp. Taylor Hawkins pounding away on the stadium backbeat. Paul Stanley does his thing, “COME ON! ARE YOU READAAAAAAAY! I want you to go HEYYYYY HEY HEY HEEEEEEY YEAH!” I’m not a KISS fan but I’ve always wanted the big stadium rock moment led by Paul and I got it. No disappointments. After the vamp, they transitioned into “Do You Love Me”.
At the beginning ,Dave Grohl said we weren’t getting a Foo Fighters show. As the night went on this simply wasn’t the case. The Foos played a variety of their own original material including most of their big hits. Songs like “All My Life”, “The Pretender”, “My Hero”, “Times Like These”, “Learn to Fly”, “Everlong“ and “Monkey Wrench”. They also played a fair amount of tunes from Wasting Light including “Rope”, “Arlandria”, and “White Limo”. Two songs that caught me off guard were “Cold Day in the Sun” written by Taylor Hawkins and “This is a Call” off the self-titled first album. All of these songs plus new tunes from Sonic Highways make for a great concert by itself. When you ad in the numerous guests playing at the show, it makes for something incredibly special. During one of their original tunes, Dave asked everyone light up the band with their phones. Everyone either turned the flashlight function on their phone or simply held it up. Then made everyone turn them off and back on again. Not only was it a great visual but also in a subtle way, it made cell phones at concerts, usually a distraction and disconnect for an audience use this same device to make everyone participate in the show. Fantastic.
Dave’s Birthday Club continued in full swing cycling back and forth between original Foos tunes and an epic Chevy Metal cover set. The whole night was like The Blob of rock n’ roll. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any bigger, it did. The next special guest was Tenacious D and Slash. The only thing more majestic than Paul Stanley’s hair that night was Jack Black’s tie die t-shirt with a giant tiger smack dab in the middle of it. He then proceeded to serenade Dave, followed by thousands concert goers, in singing Happy Birthday to Mr. Grohl. Hundreds of balloons fell from the ceiling and flooded the stage. The band counted off and went into the first four bars of “Immigrant Song”. Jack Black provided vocal styling over the top the Led Zeppelin classic in a rendition that hadn’t been heard that beautifully since he sang it in School of Rock. The next special guest was Alice Cooper. This was an artist that touched a nerve. He was one of my earliest inspirations as a musician and one of my favorite concerts of all time. Seeing him come out and sing “School’s Out” and “I’m Eighteen” brought back a nostalgic feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. Continuing with special guests was Nick Oliveri singing the Roky Erickson song “Two Headed Dog”, which was also featured in the Austin episode of Sonic Highways. Zakk Wylde was the next special guest to lead the charge. This gave lead guitarist Chris Shiflett, bassist Nate Mendel, and guitarist Pat Smear a chance to have a quick break after about an hour and a half of performing. The new power trio of Taylor Hawkins on drums, Dave Grohl on bass, and Zakk Wylde on guitar and vocals emerged and pounded the classic Sabbath tunes “N.I.B” and “Faries Wear Boots”. A few songs later Perry Farrell ran his way to the stage like a gazelle and sand a fantastic version of “Mountain Song” and an improvised version of “Miss You”. I say improvised because there seemed to be some confusion on stage over who would sing The Rolling Stones classic. This was a minor detail because I was too busy dancing along to care about lyrical misunderstandings.
These performances we’re awesome moments but the next guest defined the show for me. The band starts jamming on New Orleans style riff. Dave says, “This is my friend Troy!” and look down to see Trombone Shorty walking out on the runway. I had only recently become familiar with his playing on Sonic Highways. He came out, walked out to the mic, and started playing. It was something really special. It wasn’t just a great artist playing classic songs. He was crafting something out of thin air. He weaved a piece of music from nothing. At one point, it seemed as though he lost himself and began to fire audible missiles of soul from his trombone directly at the audience. Aimed at the hearts and minds of everyone in the arena. Toward the end of his performance, he held out a note for a minute and a half, continuously breathing and playing leaving everyone including the Foo Fighters in awe. I think this was his way to come back to Earth. It was just something truly unique was literally a magic moment.
Then there was David Lee Roth. This is not a slight on Mr. Roth in any way shape or form. He just happened to be the next special guest after Trombone Shorty. Whether you like him or not, Diamond Dave gets his own category. Whether it’s good or bad is a matter of opinion. Of course after Dave announced Dave, the crowd went wild. Diamond Dave comes strutting out in semi-cheetah jeans yelling “CAN YOU HEAR ME!” He kept pointing at Taylor seemingly wanting him to kick off the first song. Eventually Dave just yells, “MOVES LIKE JAGGER, MOTHAFUCKA! PLAY THE SOOOOOOOOOONG!” Which sends the Foos into “Panama”. In Southern California, Van Halen tunes are like old hymns everyone knows. They are also hymns best sung in giant arenas. So when the two are combined and sung by the man who helped pen them, you could feel the air of the Forum change. After fierce guitar playing, karate kicks supplied by Mr. Roth, and joy had by all, Diamond Dave set up the next song.
“Can we take it away one more time? Its kind of a theme song and we’ll pass the torch on to because I think everybody here tonight wants just a little bit if not the whole ballgame, Everybody Wants SOOOOOOOOOOME!” The band looks slightly confused as Grohl replied, “I don’t know Dave, I Ain’t Talkin’ About Love” With the usual Roth wisdom he replied, “It’s all pizza babe. It doesn’t matter what’s on top. Its all fucking great.” When the band went into “Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love” as planned, Roth subtly threw in, “You don’t pay me to remember the words baby.”
After Roth left the stage the brought up an all star ending with Lemmy, Slash, and Zakk Wylde to play a Chuck Berry classic “Let it Rock” It was good to see Lemmy in rocking form again after his health scares in the past few years. Although the song started off somewhat shaky, I don’t think it was anybody’s fault. The night was about jamming and having fun playing music with friends. These friends just happen to play in some of the biggest rock bands of all time. So little mistakes like that are inconsequential compared to the bigger picture of the evening. Grohl even joked it felt like a giant keg party and that feeling couldn’t be more accurate.
This was truly one of the most incredible shows I’ve ever attended. The Foos started at 8:30 and ended a few minutes after midnight. No intermission. Dave Grohl screamed until his voice was hoarse. The band put their all into it and pulled out all the stops to create a great experience. The best part about it was that there were no huge sets, special effects, giant screens, back up dancers, or any other nonsense. The draw was no frills rock and roll. The special guests weren’t announced. Just the promise of a great, loud rock show. Of course I’d be a fool to sit here and critique all the singing and playing because something else struck more of a chord in me. This show really took me through the paces of my musical evolution. Alice Cooper, one of my first influences when I was little kid. Slash, Tenacious D, and Van Halen for my middle school/early band years. Black Sabbath/Zakk Wylde for my high school metal years. Jane’s Addiction for my discovery of 90’s music in my senor year. Lastly, Trombone Shorty for my delving into Soul and Jazz during my college years.
Of course, no show is without its downsides. As amazing of a show as we experienced, you would still find people who don’t have the rock n’ roll spirit. How anyone could sit and be on various social media while all this happens in front of you? Apparently the gentleman in front of me could. The worst (unfortunately) was a young kid sitting behind me. He looked as though he wasn’t enjoying himself at all. Arms crossed. Complaining about his seat and where he and his parents would sit next time. As a young kid, I would have lost my shit if I saw this show. I’m a grown man and I still lost my shit. Multiple times. The majority of people looked as though they did as well. This negative spirit doesn’t help rock n’ roll in anyway shape or form. I hope bands from the Foo Fighters to local DIY rock groups bring rise to a new renaissance bringing the importance back on the music. Sending this texting entitlement away. I dance at shows, I sweat at shows, I’ll smell worse than you, and I’m not afraid to have fun.
Leaving my house in a post Christmas haze, I was headed to an event on the night of December 27th that I rarely attend, a garage house show. My experience with attending shows is wide and vast. Everything from arena shows, bar gigs on the floor, college open mic nights with no mics, and everything in between. Although many differences exist between these shows, there is a huge detail underneath it all. Depending on your event, live events offer a varying element of danger. In a giant sports center, little danger. These waters have been charted before. Bar/club gigs, the terrain gets rockier. You’ve been in these woods. Just be careful you don’t become surrounded by wolves. When you go to a house show, you’re going off the edge of the map. Sure there’s probably going to be land where you’re going, but who knows what else? Simply put, you truly have no idea what is going to happen. Will your night be pure magic or pure hell? Maybe just a lukewarm experience. It all depends on your personality and the circumstances you were thrown in.
I didn’t print directions or put the address in my phone. I just reviewed the route and remembered the address in case I made a wrong turn. Driving to the show was interesting. Slightly more eager to leave for this one. It would be a small departure away from the mass of Christmas that had just ended. Not that my holiday wasn’t good but I needed a break. Almost there. I approached a crossroad. The mall on one side. My route on the other. What a better way to depart than go the opposite direction. Drove slow through the neighborhood, looking for signs of this house. Bingo. Cars and young people. I make a U-turn and parked at the end of the street in the opposite direction. Waiting for my friend to show up, I text my girlfriend I love her. Stepped out of the car, I could hear the music being mechanically thrown in the air. Only two houses away now. Weird vibes growing stronger as I approached the house. It was like a mix between Halloween and gloom. I paralleled the closed garaged door moving toward the back gate, which was left open. I was then smacked over the head by some of the strangest music I’ve ever heard in my life. Metallic droning sounds. Audible recordings of despair. Industrial noises falling into blackness. A snare drum that sounded like machine gunfire randomly interrupting the music. At the forefront, a man screaming that sounded like his body was being pulled in two different directions.
I was frozen solid. I had an equal amount of curiosity and desire to leave immediately. One thing was for sure. I wasn’t going in without Soul Brother backup. David Hodrick, drummer for This Place is a Zoo and wearer of funny hats, would be supplying that. Once he arrived, we made our way in. I was bracing for the weirdest show I’d ever see. My imagination began painting an image from when I first heard the screams. Surely there would be madness at the highest level. Fear and Loathing in Garage. Outside was reality. Inside was Odd. As we entered the show, it was Odd but not for reasons expected. There was no cloud of smoke. No bottles being passed around. No drugs being shared. We walk in and find about 25 people watching a man scream into a mic, nodding their heads to drone music. That may sound somewhat pretentious but still, I was pleasantly surprised and happy that these kids showed up just to hear the music with no other motive. Part of the show was still odd for reasons I expected. There was still a man three feet in front of me screaming his guts out to soundtrack that would be playing as you wandered through the gates of hell. Behind him a projector played film of images and visuals I can’t accurately describe. It like a combination the film playing during the tunnel scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and black and white footage that would be used at the beginning of a horror movie.After about 10-15 minutes of watching him, his set ended. I found out afterward, his name was Wile. Everyone then dispersed. Some gathered in groups to quietly discuss music. Most wanted some fresh air. A few new people arrived. One of them with In-N-Out and promptly planted himself on the couch in the back of the garage. The next band was How Scandinavian. Their guitarist and singer Bryan, also the one in charge of this show, introduced the band and thanked everyone for coming. This was the first of two sets, this one being a covers set. The first kick hits. The mood changes. We’ve moved from a dark room lit up by a creepy film to Christmas lights creating a parameter around the band and drum kit. I’m not sure how it was created but these lights would flash on and off in time with the music. Darkness. Light. Darkness Light. It was slowly mesmerizing. I don’t remember what songs they played or could really recognize any of them. I just remember at one point it felt like time stopped. I looked over the crowd all transfixed on the band. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Everyone had a different face. Some more weathered than others. Some as fresh as the previous day. Everyone tuned in to what was happening. For a split second, everyone was unified. Different faces and all. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Over the top of all this, the band played spacey music and Bryan sang, “The Party is Over…” while the lights, continued to flash. Then it was over
Again the routine continued. Fresh air. Conversations. New people. Also, just like the mood changed with How Scandinavian. The next group was OG Dino. I don’t know how to describe this and I don’t think I really could. I guess it could be considered “Free Comedy Rap”. I say free because in between each rap segment one of the duo of OG would bang on a cymbals while the other would play the recorder. Then they would interject lyrics about having sex with pregnant women really hard, eczema goat cheese, and yelling about how his girlfriend was a bitch at top volume. The beats changed rhythmically and frequently. All while a single strobe illuminated above the band only added to the weirdness. Hodrick and I were both surprised to learn their CDs were for sale at the low price of $1 USD. After the assault that was OG Dino, Hodrick and I left to a 24-hour diner where I had the worst fucking eggs of my entire life.
This type of show is certainly not for everyone but everyone should attend a show like this at least once. It is one of the rawest types of performances you’ll ever see. The sound won’t be that great. It will be cramped and hot. But that’s kind of the point. No matter what happens, you won’t forget what you’ve experienced.
