Will the definitive cinematic (or at least straight-to-video) depiction of the OC music scene ever be made? Seems like there's always a handful of budding documentarians 'round the county looking to capture their version of such, and since we recently checked in with Patrick Brink to see how his was coming along (see "Movies and Metal," January 24), it's only fair we ring up Seal Beach video director Bill Henderson to see how his is doing. Four years after we first wrote about Henderson's flick, Peeling the Orange, his project is still evolving—slowly. "I had an accident where I blew my eye up on a car battery," Henderson tells us. "That put me out of commission for seven months. Then that VH1 documentary came out (last year's mediocre Orange County: American Hip Factory), and that discouraged me awhile. I didn't want it to seem like I was someone who saw that and then decided to copy it." Henderson felt he had to keep his own film fresh, so he's also spent the last few years shooting footage of newer groups like Scarlet Crush, Downtown Popular, Barroom Heroes, even Santa Ana mariachi bands, to complement scenes already in the can that touch on the origins of OC punk and the advent of the local major-label acts. "The original thought was to cover the punk scene, but my perspective has evolved into something that's more about the wider OC culture itself." Henderson says he's putting some trailers together with the idea of getting the film to MTV. If they don't want it, he'll go the indie route to get it into retail stores. "I'm hoping for good things," he says. Latest estimated completion time: September. (Rich Kane)
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The Electric Daisy Carnival is one of the last giant DJ culture parties still going strong in Southern California. Last year, the city of Long Beach gave refuge to this endangered species at the Queen Mary Events Park, where a crowd of some 7,000 boogied down to electronic music folks like DJ Rap. This year's Carnival—set for Saturday—moved more than an hour east to San Bernardino's National Orange Show Pavilion because, as event organizer Pasquale Rotella tells it, Long Beach paper-pushers sat on his permits. "I don't want to bag on them, but they didn't get back to me," Rotella says of the city's special-events office and the Long Beach Police Department. It was a big change from last year. "I had good relations with them then. This time, I had to explain what we were doing to new people." (Long Beach officials didn't answer our requests for comment.) Orange Show reps didn't have such problems, and quickly approved Rotella's rave . . . whoops! Make that "concert." The venue banned all-night raves in 2001, which is why the EDC—and the annual Nocturnal Wonderland event, slated for August—are billed as concerts, and will end promptly at 2 a.m. "When you say you're doing a rave event, there are so many political problems," Rotella says. "It's not an out-of-control, free-for-all drug event. Every year we've gotten farther from what raves once were, to being super-tight with security—more tight than a concert—and changing hours." Still, others mourn the total lack of space for large-scale dance events of these types. "It sucks everyone has to do the Orange Show or LA Sports Arena," says veteran DJ Dave Aude, who's spun at Club Rubber and will be playing Nocturnal Wonderland. "It makes these events a little more stale." (Andrew Asch)