By LP Hastings
By Michael Goldstein
By R. Scott Moxley
By Gustavo Arellano
By Gustavo Arellano
By Matt Coker
By Nick Schou
By Bethania Palma Markus
Photo by Zack GoldTHURSDAY, JULY 21
Saw this new band the Grabs last night, and because this is the column where I use the small words, I report only that they are darling as fuck: Patti Smith singing over Television/Modern Lovers guitar, a CBGB's band that would never descend to T-shirts and jeans. Find 'em if you mind 'em.
CORRECTIONS: We reported that Darby Crash said "Rawwwwwwwwwwww, who the fuck is managing my esssssssssstate?" when contacted beyond the grave; in fact, the Crash estate consists of 12 minutes of unreleased footage of him vomiting black pills, currently managed by Penelope Spheeris. We also reported that the Germs bio-pic will never be released; in fact, the Germs bio-pic is on track for a fall 20006 [NOTE TO FACTCHECKERS: THAT'S 20006] release. We also neglected to mention the "Paris Hilton Sex Tape" bit was a joke made by Alexis "RE: discounetd Cialis, Levitra in deecesrt packages" Haase, who you don't know but she's cool.
ALSO: We reported that Beck(at the OCFairtoday) smokes a lot of weed and sings gibberish in Spanish; due to a typographical miscommunication, "Beck" should actually have read "Dios Malos," or possibly "Gustavo Arellano."
ReelBigFishfor two well-supervised nights at the HOB;you laugh now (or you probably don't, do you, little man?), but Reel Big Fish were as in tune with their times as the early Beach Boys, and if America hadn't been ready to relate to a bitter first-chair trumpet player finding out that junior college was a lot more unforgiving than he thought it would be, well, they wouldn't have sold so many records, would they? As a guy I know once said: "When it comes to suburban ska bands from Orange County, I think they could have been the best ever." You get the bands you deserve. And now, playing next weekend's San Diego Street Scene: Louis XIV!
PLUS: DekeDickersonin his natural habitat at the Doll Hut—why sweat at the Hoot when you could sit and sip right now? One day, Deke will be California's last actual guitar player. The British knew it, and so did the American blues guys they ripped off: it takes a scholar to really play rock & roll.
ALSO: Gram Rabbit—Gram Parson's name, Garbage's vibe; they should have just been Gram Manson or Garbage Manson or Gram Garbage, but then again, I do have a problem with subtlety. Gram . . . Garbage. At the Galaxy.
PLUS: Aterciopeladosand more at the OC Fair; Lucerosteels guitars at the Glass House; Colin Hay: A Man at Work at the Coach House.
Eminemand 50Centheadline the SubstantialFinancialPortfolioManagementTourover LilJonand G-Unitand D12and Eminem pet project Stat Quo. They recently had a tour bus crash in Missouri, but you have to crash a bus into 50 Cent at least nine times before he even notices, so it wasn't a big deal. In related news, Ja Rule still exists, or did at press time. At the GlenHelenHyundaiPavillionin Devore; I once saw a brilliant Sex Pistols show here and counted a million broken-down Hyundais baking in their own radiator steam as I drove home.
ALSO: "Ask a Mexican" how he got kicked out of ReventonSuperEstrellaat the Ponda few years back, or just assume he was drunk and embarrassing himself in front of a blushing senorita . . . how you say? Dia de losstereotypes? With (per the Mexican) actual good bands this year. Like Juanes.
AND: TheDestroyersOCperform the Adolescents' blue album in its entirety at Fitzgerald'sin HB, which bands have been doing at Fitzgerald's for years, though never before with the courtesy to admit it. Next week: the Descendents' I Don't Want to Grow Up.
PLUS: Stacks Vinyl/KDAY/Beat Junkies/Rock the Bells fest DJIcyIceat club Releaseat Detroit; the Psychedelic Fursplay sober in shorts at the OC Fair; DJ Wade—the barfing bloody bassist of the Orphans—delivers the good shit at Alex's; Reel Big Fishagain at HOB.
Steve Lowery has a great story about this incident he had with Stevie Nicks, and another great story about this incident his brother had with Jonathan Richman, but I don't remember them except they both end badly and I think one has Steve going, "Stevie, noooooooooooooo!" At the Pondfor a really weird crowd.
A: Yes. Oh, wait. Says Yellowman to a newspaper in Hawaii: "I think everybody has a right to live, to take a position. If you're gay or not gay, you have a right. In my older songs, I was joking around and took a homophobic stand. I'm not like other artists who bring violence against gay people." So anyway, yes. At the OC Fair.
I bought a soul 45 last week where the guy—Nolan Porter, much beloved of Paul Weller, for all you people who can't form a musical opinion without consulting a flabby old British man—finishes the song by saying, "I'm too young to be hung up on this SHIT!" That's standard 45 philosophy—sucker song on one side, scary song on the other—but it's still pretty heavy to hear someone who isn't Blowfly releasing R-rated vintage vinyl. Sadly, Nolan got too cocky after this record charted in 1971, and his follow-up "If I Could Only Be Sure"/"Face Down Ass Up" flopped.
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