By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
THURSDAY, AUG. 4
CHRIS ZIEGLER OF OC WEEKLY: "Hey, Mark, what's the 'it' in 'Whip It'?"
MARK MOTHERSBAUGH OF THE BAND DEVO: "Stupidity."
Great never-written music stories of the OC Weekly:
2005: The Willowz, not actually that hated.
2004: Method Man, some sort of rap person? Plus, why did that doughnut shop catch on fire during the Modest Mouse show?
2003: Skatanic Rednecks, not actually skatanic, though actual rednecks.
2002: The Mars Volta, three years before they were the big thing that plays the Long Beach Arena, they were just a little new thing, releasing their debut EP, Tremulant, after having settled in some weird old Long Beach storefront after At the Drive-In cracked and scattered. Even then, people knew—outside Que Sera, local sees-all-hears-all-knows-all gal Chase Frank tells us it was her favorite record by a Long Beach band: "Every city needs a band that's representative of the whole fabric of what a scene is about. And Long Beach is certainly not Sublime, certainly not Snoop Dogg—those are two extremes. The Mars Volta is more representative of what I've heard as a person who has lived in Long Beach all my life. And it's cool to pick up something you really like that says, 'Recorded in Long Beach.'" Now they're, like, the smartest famous band there is, and were we there for them? Nah. Instead, Save Ferris!
2001: Costa Mesa, will it ever stop rockin'!?!
PLUS: Billy Zoom, coldest big fish in a little pond at the Galaxy; Zebrahead, will they ever stop rockin?!? at Chain; 2Mexraps about Weezer while the Shapeshiftersrap about, uh, Voltron? At the Glass House; Vavakand New Fidelitygo for broke locals at Alex's; they didn't know Devowas a midget at HOB.
Return of the Night of the All Girl DJat Detroit, proving that girls can DJ, drink, play Fleetwood Mac and Portishead, drink, play the Flying Lizards, drop their cell phone in the toilet, and pee standing up just as well as guys, even if they suck at math.
ALSO: Debut of Seth Wilder's club ElectricKingdomat the uncomfortably tony Basement Lounge. Seth helped start freestyle nights at the old Koo's and also headed the 17th Parallel breakdancing crew, and now he climbs back down from LA to book one of the best hip-hop clubs in the flood plain—tonight, we debut with LA hip-hop originator the ArabianPrince(not quite an Egyptian Lover, but still a world-class wrecker) and coldest old-schooler JoeCooley(half the brains behind "Everlasting Bass" and the timeless FuckNewYorkconcept album) as guest DJs, and if everyone appreciates it enough, we'll get DJ Aladdin or Dooley O (or Rodney O!) or Mr. Magic or someone, so you can go to that while Grandma goes to MOCA to see Grandmaster Flash.
PLUS: Club Crucialvs. rockers uptown with DJ Mr. Keysat the Prospector; thee Leechessuck (joke, not critical assessment; actually, they rule like ? and the Mysterians in Mummies drag) at Koo's; the Dead 60sat the Glass House, and I was just informed that this band is part of the new car-commercial pretty-boy Brit Pack crowd (Bloc Party, Kaiser Chiefs, every British band since Blur) so STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT SPTPO IT OTP ITPO OTO OTO OTITITTOTOT because you are killing the last living Kinks.
Dockers-rocker JackJohnsondoles out the dope for the sensitive new-age corporate krowd (SNACKers); he's working hard putting his voice through those cute little loop-de-loops, but all I'm hearing is James Taylor with chest hair: Nick Drake was mellow like this and he died, and Syd Barrett was mellow like this and he went crazy, and Jack Johnson is mellow like this and I suddenly feel like sitting in a smooth leather office chair. At VerizonWirelessAmphitheaterwith MattCostaand the AnimalLiberationOrchestrathrowing blood on your summer furs.
ALSO: JahFellowshipvs. rockers downtown at the Blue Cafť, plus a nice daytime dub chill out at the Cherryheadpark jam in that LongBeachparkat, like, Broadway and Cherry—you know, you can see the Ghost Barge from there, and if you cruise by four times in three hours, the cops throw you in the john tank? Plus, LAMPFESTat the Glass House: Silencio recordings turns off the living-room light for Santa Ana's This Blush, LA's Antarcticansguitarkestra, Jamie Xiu Xiu's DeadScienceand more—reasonable noise for reasonable people!
ColdWarKidssay they drop in somewhere between the Velvet Underground and Bob Dylan, which is as specifically committal as saying you live between the Atlantic and the Pacific, but "Quiet, Please!" sounds like the Fear and Whiskeycountry Mekons with Loudon Wainwright in front, and though nothing keeps me warmer at night than hating people who like the same music I do . . . Cold War Kids do all right. Between Richard Swift and Innaway and Jessica Dobson and Matt Costa and now these guys, all clustered at exits off the 5, something may be happening. Residency at Detroit.
NEW RELEASES: The entire Dangerdoom collaboration plops full-grown, though premature, on the Internet, delivering the Meatwad/Ghostface collaboration the world has been waiting for since the Thundarr/DJ Quik track on Judgment Night. The Comedy Central cameos make a sort of Who Sell Outvibe, but first listens catch solid production by Danger Mouse; Doom's usual fuzzy-wuzzy lyrics; a cute self-described old-school throwback with Talib Kweli; an entire song dedicated just to AquaTeenHungerForce("Carl, he wore tight blue sweats but wasn't clued too tight/and if you think that's weird, he lived next door to a food fight"); and (original?) voice contributions (and/or samples) from Sealab, Space Ghostand people I wouldn't know because I don't have cable, plus an annoying running plotline about Shake's thwarted rap aspirations. Don't know if the novelty thing will make this sink or soar, but it's still probably the best music to come off a TV screen since the Ventures. The mask makes him invincible: MM . . . Toon?