First off, thank you to every head who came out on Friday night.  You made it so I didn’t have to walk around this shit stain of a city with my own head down for a week.  You also helped raise over $1000.00 for the Harmony Project, and unless those lil’ fockstars are using some fancy ass clarinets, I’m pretty sure y’all copped a couple woodwinds for them.   So that’s more than this lil’ boy from Beer City’s ever donated to anything other than his lungs and stomach.  So on a personal note, that feels cool.  Pat yourselves on the back one time for not spending that 10 bones on drugs, alcohol, sex, five hour energy, fast food, weight-loss supplement, birth-control, fifth-trimester-abortion, sex change (ed. note: tribute line), etc. etc…

Thank you also to the bands, each and every one of you killed it.  Like literally killed it.  Like their were mah’fuckas of every race, creed, sexual orientation, and species in that room on Friday, and I didn’t hear a single person say one bad thing about any of the musical performances.  That ain’t usually how it works in this town.  It ain’t usually how shit works most places, because most of the time you’re going to encounter a couple bands a night that are not that terrific, it’s just a numbers thing.  We were 5-0 on Friday Oct. 14, 2011.  Mark that shit in the record books (ed. note: fuck you local I’m ain’t talkin’ bout no football).

   Dustbowl Revival, my apologies for only catching the last couple songs that you guys did.  Y’all went on at 8PM and that arrival time is overzealous for me even at my most anxious.  However, I did catch y’all’s rendition of “John the Revelator,” and it was fuckin’ revelating.  Thank you for coming out as the first band, I know you guys usually go on later, but you’re 8 o’clock game was just as strong as your 10 o’clock game, and I’m happy that we were able to get a good amount of people in that room for you.

The Dustbowl Revival was followed by a band who needs no introduction on this siteThe Muddy Reds, who are friends first at this point and musical shit-dicks second.  Now right before they stepped onstage the Budaphest says to me “do you want to introduce the Reds?”  I kind of gave a “whatever” type response, and went to get prepared (ed. note: inebriated).  It was at that moment that Gorilla said two words to me that made my heart flutter and drop at the same time, “Kline’s here” (ed. note: pardon me, I meant Councilman Kline).  That was a foreal oh’ma’gooness moment for this motherfucker.  Because there he was, the infamous Kline.  The shit-scab that started it all back in 2009 (ed. note: circa).  The mother-fucker who drove me to a party in bum-fuck-the-valley, where what looked to be a foursome of druggy-ass-bags were playing rock and roll in the driveway of a cul-de-sac, and at the end of the night I realized that maybe some of them weren’t drugees, because their music was absurdly good, and also, Kline split off to drop the hammer on some woman with a Chinchilla collection (ed. note: how could I make that up if it wasn’t true).  As I explained during my introduction speech on Friday night, this initial interaction (ed. note: henceforth known as the Chinchilla Lady Party) came full circle round’about’s when Kline, my quote “nemesis” from college was standing in the crowd watching the same band whose music he introduced me to, who played the first show ever in our Jam Van, and who were now playing for the biggest crowd I’ve ever seen them play for at a show that we put on.  To me that was a trip.  Later that night Kline and I “hugged it out” (ed. note: to quote Gorilla) but I was disgustingly intoxicated and that truce always ends with me getting robbed or chasing him out of the house with a weapon, so err on the side of “you mus’be’crazy’foo…”

The main thing you should have taken from that paragraph was the fact that the Muddy Reds played for the biggest crowd that I’ve ever seen them play for, and all I can say to that is “about fucking time.”  Now I’m not saying they maybe haven’t played to a lot of people before.  I’ve just never seen it, and I’d venture to guess it’s rare.  I’ve always claimed that a shame, because they play music that is meant to be blasted in front of a shit ton of people, and that is what happened Friday night.  That room was jammed, everyone was moving and smiling, and the Reds fucking killed it.  I have no idea what songs those shit-bags played, but their set seemed a lot longer than 30 minutes, and I hope it was.  They did their own version of “John the Revelator.”  A little stankier, a lot bad-ass.  They closed with Plan B (Send for Help), which was fucking wild.  Quote me on that, it was “fucking wild.”  The best part of all of it, and I swear to you, I think the best part for me for the entire night, was the amount of people that came up to me after the show and told me how good the Muddy Reds were, and how they were their favorite act of the night.  Here’s a middle finger raised in salute  to you fellas, in hopes that every crowd is that big from now on (ed. note:  They have a new album out this week.  It’s four bucks.  Buy or play it for free, or you’re stupid).

There’s that cliché about “a hard act to follow,” but Future Ghost took the route of never use a cliché in your original works, because that shit is played-out.  The threesome (ed. note: huh huh, you know what I just said) slaughtered the Central stage with a set of inspired grungy, fuzzy, loud awesomeness.  If you weren’t there, don’t fret too hard, because they played the Jam Van earlier in the day, and although I was stuck at my bill-payer and not on set, I heard it brought out a disgruntled juice head neighbor and he brought out the cops, and you know I love it when the rock brings out the cops.

There was a buzz going around the room all evening when the boys from Vanaprasta rolled up in their no-frills Econoline at about 8:20.  People figured there was a damn good reason why those East-Side boys hopped to the Westside with all of their gear, early enough to take in the entire show, set one through five.  Cat was out the bag, Vanaprasta was the special guest.  They played the Wiltern earlier in the week and now here they were playing to a full-up Central in Santa Monica.  There were crazy ass lights, crazy ass dancing, a lead singer in the crowd, and most of all, amazing music.  I stood right next to the fucking front speaker for this one.  I did it because wanted to lean against the wall, because that’s my shit, and because I don’t think very well sometimes.  This was later evidenced by the honest to goodness fact that my left ear is still kind of fuzzy and out of it.  I’ll take the battle scar though, because it was worth it to be that close up when Steve Wilkin, lead singer of this little-known-outside-of-Los Angeles rock and roll band called Vanaprasta, who will hopefully soon reap the benefits of being another band that deserves to be known outside of this smog-farm said “this is the biggest crowd we’ve ever played that song for” after they grabbed the grins and spins out of every one of those two hundred or so lucky suckers who got to witness that evenings version of “Self Indulgent Feeling.”  A fitting title for how my head was ticking at the moment.  So thanks to those guys, good luck to you at CMJ, although that ain’t necessary, cause your shit is good, and y’all are good people.  So rather, good luck to New York City, let’s hope you’re ready for Vanaprasta (ed. note: shine your dancing shoes and eat a couple advil to deflect the head-bang-twang).

The final set of the evening went to American Royalty, and with all do apologies to our Cabin Boy who mans the drums for this unique three piece, electro-psych-rock-outfit, as well as our bathroom sound booth, I did not really catch much of this set.  You see, one of the conveniences of having a Jam Van parked outside of the venue is that it provides all the necessities of a green room, plus the luxury of having Crafts Services on the scene to keep things rolling.  That being said, there was a grand amalgamation of dirt bags, band members, and humans crammed into the van making merry, and I may have slacked a little on taking in American Royalty.  Yet word on the street is that they were amazing, and mah’fuckers danced pretty damn hard.

Our night commenced, it was time to take inventory.  I’m not sure what my top highlight would be (ed. note: aside from my Kline speech).  Definitely up on the leader board was our very own Geologist carrying a handful of tall boys to Vanaprasta mid-set, Riff Raff getting a high five on his pimp cane from Steve at around the same time, some interesting facts learned about several of the bands that as a man of my honor I will take to the grave (ed. note:  Except some shit about some psycho ex-girlfriend and a knife that Nick from the Muddy Reds told me about.  I would tell y’all that in a heartbeat cause shit, I ain’t promise that scumscar nuffin’ bout nuffin to no grave.  It’s just that I wasn’t in the right state of mind for much remembrance, and that got lost along the way).  Also on the list is seeing the Deez dancing without a care up front row the entire night, seeing the smile on the Perfect Hippies face when he was passing out whiskey to the musicians that made the night special, and most of all, feeling that we made a good time, because you’re damn right this means we’re gonna be doing it AGAIN!
In reference to the “dropping the ball” mentioned at the top of this page.  I will be brief.  We owe the Muddy Reds and apology.  We were supposed to trek out to Joshua Tree with these fine gentlemen on Saturday and do some epic filming.  Our team dropped the ball.  In no way should one wild rager prevent us from ever attending one the following day.  As in times past when I have made claims and held to them, I will make this one again, I will not let one substance get in the way of another.  Amen.

 

ALL PHOTOS COURTESY OF OUR CRAZY ASS JAPANESE FRIEND MIE INABA

Quote for the Day: The Perfect Hippie – “Some People might think your blogs are a little long.”

Rebuttle for the Day: Me – “This Some People person must be an ignorant red-neck with sub-par reading abilities.”

Track for the Day: “Weight of the World” by Pigeon John, off of Pigeon John and the Summertime Pool Party.

Los Angeles, these are our selected shows for the week of 10/17 – 10/23:

– 10/17 – Meiko plays “It’s a School Night” at Bardot.  RSVP to get in fo’free…

– 10/17 – The Drums at the Echo for 13 bones

– 10/17 – The Naked and Famous play the Music Box at the Henry Fonda with White Arrows opening for 1/4 of a Benjamin…

– 10/17 – Youngblood Hawke continues their stellar residency at the Satellite, catch them fo’free.

– 10/18 – John Scofield is at the Catalina Jazz Club...

– 10/18 – Whiz AKA Thizz Kalifa does the Nokia Live for $35.00.

– 10/18 – Portishead is at the Shrine for jesus, $56.00...  I think you can prolly get regular head for that much in K-Town somewhere because that shit is sold out.

– 10/18 – The Drums do it again at the Echo for the same price, $13.00, which be about the same as a movie ticket.

– 10/18 – St. Vincent will howl up the Music Box for $16.00…

– 10/18 – Foster the People play the Wiltern for the nice round price of $20.00.  I’ll assume it’s sold out and that there will be a lot of “ones” there…

– 10/19 – John Scofield does it again at the Catalina Jazz Club…

– 10/19 – Paul Simon at the Gibson for 62.50, which if it were an age, is less than Paul Simon’s age I believe…

– 10/19 – Roger Daltry at the Nokia for various different levels of expensive tix…

– 10/19 – Portishead does the Shrine again for 56.00 and again it’s sold out…

– 10/19 – Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks with Ty Segal opening up at the Music Box for $25.00 which seems fair…

– 10/20 – Spank Rock and Wavves at the Mayan Theater for 20 bones…

– 10/20 – John Scofield does it again at the Catalina Jazz Club…

10/20 – Grace Potter and the Nocturnals at the Paramour Theater

– 10/21 – Mason Jennings at the El Rey for two dime bags…

– 10/22 – Tyler Ramsey of Band of Horses does his solo schtick at the Bootleg for $10.00...

– 10/22 – Anthrax is at Club Nokia and the Beavis would approve of the $30.00 ticket to thrash

– 10/22 – The War on Drugs at the Satellite for $10.00...

– 10/22 – Primus at the Wiltern for $35.00… 

– 10/23 – Airborne Toxic Event is at the Gibson for $23.00...

– 10/23 – Ricky Rozzay and Busta Bus at the Nokia…

Links for the Day:

Action Jackson traction… (via Stereogum)

That unreleased dissapeared recluse type shit… (via Pitchfork)

Stream on… (via AOL Music)

Tiny awesome… (via Prefix)

I think the documentary about me will be entitled “From a Mess to a Mess to a Different Type of Mess to a Massive Mess…” (via Pitchfork)

Aaargh... (via Vice)
That hot music, the roots new shit, that hot hot music, that hot! (via AV Club)

Bad as ass… (via Badasme.com)
Squashed… (via The Fader)