Last Night: Look Daggers, LD & Ariano @ The Prospector in Long Beach 5/29

Better Than: Being a San Antonio Spurs fan last night

Nothing caps off a Thursday night like a swirling mix of basketball, break beats and booze. Hell, it’s a good night if you can manage to enjoy even one of those things. And the Look Daggers' show at The Prospector in Long Beach delivered on all three. Sure, the Lakers’ Western Conference clincher over San Antonio was over way before sound check, but plenty of regulars decided to stay, drink hard and party with some live hip hop courtesy of local legends Ikey Owens (The Mars Volta, Free Moral Agents), 2Mex (Visionaries) and a cavalcade of fire breathing emcees.

It happened gradually, but as night spread thicker onto this neighborhood sports bar, the laid back, local atmosphere shifted. Soon it gave way to a flood of crooked lid hip hop heads, a dash of fine females, clamoring conversations and warm bodies. Not to mention fewer places to stand in the cramped walk ways. Rattling ice cubes and clanging glass meshed a little non-stop bar symphony on underneath thumping house speakers while LD & Ariano, the opening duo, set up their gear.

Before Ariano even let out his first few bars, the crowd was already pushed up to the very front of the stage. Fans of the group hooted and hollered as LD and Ariano carved out a sound that balanced innovative beats and thunder quake rhyme delivery. Don’t be fooled if you ever see them live, they may look harmless, but their skills proved otherwise last night, despite a few technical difficulties with the sound system.

To add some wow factor to the show, LD showed off his DJ skills with crazy cutting sessions and solos spliced in between songs. On Ariano’s cue, LD’s hands would flick and crawl like spiders over the cross fade. Shouts of appreciation from the crowd echoed back with every trick he tested. By the time they were finished, this had converted a new stable of fans, had a few drinks and caused a fair share of damage on stage.

But the true wreckage would come once the cast of Look Daggers took the stage and filled every square inch of the venue with their special blend driving beats slathered with free jazz gusto and enough pop to keep everything from falling apart. Though he arrived a tad late, local hero 2Mex made his grand entrance to a bar full of grateful, half drunk fans. Ikey Owens, along with Mendee Ichikawa (Free Moral Agents), Chris Clawson, Travis Laws and Jesse Wilder provided the backdrop for 2Mex to spit his rhymes about everything from fucked up relationships to…fucked up relationships.

If there’s one thing about this band that is worth noting, it’s that they know how to jam out, no matter how cramped the stage. The somber oohhs, ahhs and shrieks of Ichikawa leveled a ghostly cloud over the majority of the band's infectious grooves. Between Owens’ soulful sputtering keyboard lines and the thick rhythms of Laws, Clawson and Wilder, these guys found a way to bring the energy of a six member band to stage that probably shouldn’t try to fit more than three. Hmm, maybe that’s why the new album’s called Suffer in Style. As an added surprise, LD was also joined on stage by several guest emcees including Existereo (of the Shape Shifters), Mestizo, Lord Zen, and Coachella veteran, Bus Driver.

Norwegian electro-rock duo Datarock will show OC what they got on the decks Fri. May 30. We know they can rock rad ski goggles and red track suits with panache and create whip(it)smart Devo/Talking Heads simulations in the studio and onstage. Should be interesting to see if they can move a crowd/hold our attention with their music collection.

With Chris White at Detroit Bar.

Revered soul-jazz Hammond B-3 keyboardist Jimmy McGriff passed away May 24 due to complications from multiple sclerosis, age 72. Ben Ratliff of the NY Times has written a solid summary of McGriff's accomplishments and renowned producer Dante Ross chips in with a heartfelt tribute here. I will only add that the man's songs have been sampled plenty by hip-hop artists and his playing possesses a soulful girth and funky dexterity that will never sound exhausted. Every discerning record collector should possess at least a few of his albums.

Here are videos for “The Worm” and "Spear for Moondog, Pt. 1":

"The Worm"

"Spear for Moondog, Pt. 1"

By Ryan Ritchie

The last time Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool hit Long Beach, they called themselves Green Day and played at the Arena to thousands of pre-pubescent fans and those fans’ moms. Last night was a bit different.

Using the moniker Foxboro Hot Tubs, the Berkeley trio played Alex’s Bar to a crowd divided into two types: Alex’s regulars and Green Day diehards who more than likely had never stepped foot in the bar. No, this wasn’t the most sudden fall from grace in the history of recorded music. They actually wanted it that way.

With the help of Pinhead Gunpowder guitarist Jason White, multi-instrumentalist Jason Freese and guitarist Kevin Preston (all of whom are reportedly members of Green Day’s live backing band) the Foxboro Hot Tubs concluded their 10-day tour with an hour-long set comprised mostly of songs of their debut record “Stop Drop and Roll!!!” With only one album to their credit, it came as no surprise that the band played nearly every track from “Stop,” along with what Armstrong said was a cover from a band called the Network. To those who have absolutely nothing better to do than follow Green Day’s every move, the Network was (is?) another Green-Day-in-disguise band that released an album titled “Money Money 2020” in 2003. The only actual Green Day song in the set was “Blood, Sex and Booze” off 2000’s “Warning.”

Now for the most obvious thing I’ve ever written: The biggest difference between the Green Day show at the Long Beach Arena and the Foxboro Hot Tubs at Alex’s was the production value. The “American Idiot” tour incorporated a flashing “Green Day” banner behind the stage, more pyrotechnics than a Nevada backyard party and a cover of “Shout.” That’s when my girlfriend and I bailed on the show. And we like Green Day.

Wednesday night’s show was less about arena rock distractions and more about a straight-forward approach to rock ‘n’ roll. The evening began with Armstrong riding a surfboard carried by Alex’s security from the back of the bar to the stage. Many songs were extended to give the Foxboro Hot Tubs the opportunity to drink tallboys of Pabst Blue Ribbon and/or crowd surf, both of which were highly entertaining. Although it was never officially mentioned, there must have been a rule that mandated everyone in the audience had to jump on stage every fourth or fifth song because that’s exactly what happened. One minute there were six musicians up there and the next they disappeared into a sea of people.

But my friend Ron, a punk rocker since before most of the audience was going to shows, summarized the evening perfectly when told me his favorite part of the show was when one of the bouncers stage dived. Minutes earlier the guy got on the mic and told the crowd he’d put a foot in everyone’s ass if they didn’t take a step back. Then he jumped. Go figure.

Sure, the people on stage were household names with bank accounts full of zeros, but all the shit that bummed me out about the over-produced “American Idiot” tour vanished. In its place was a typical bar show complete with a band that sounded like the pros that they were, sky-high temperatures, beer a-flyin’ and lots of sweaty dudes bumping into non-sweaty dudes, making the non-sweaty dudes a tad bit uncomfortable. Maybe I was born too late to have witnessed it the first go-round, but last night’s show proved a tiny venue with nothing to offer but an eager crowd and stiff drinks is how Green Day/Foxboro Hot Tubs/the Network should be seen. All it took was a name change for me to appreciate Green Day again.

DJ Frane: very decks-toe-rous.

I thought I might've been pouring it on too thick with this Heard Mentality post, but it turns out I wasn't effusive enough. Last night at the Continental Room's Behind the Red Curtain event, DJ Frane put on a master class of funk and turntablism (a panoply of scratches that was tight and acrobatic, including the soleful toescratch) that had jaws tattooing the dance floor as often as feet.

Frane's selections combined the obscure (uh, I'm having trouble identifying them—that's how obscure they were) with the well-known (Funkadelic, James Brown, Rick James, the Time), with the quality level uniformly high no matter where in the crates he dug. Toward the end, Frane pulled out some sweet-ass reggae/dub tracks (Dawn Penn, Sister Nancy, Musical Youth), but the night's highlight came when Frane started scratching Prince's “Head” with his mouth. [See photo from this blog post.] Talk about being thematically correct and amazingly dexterous...

This was Frane's first Orange County DJ performance and it's doubtful the OC's seen anything like it. You can catch him next at the Mountain Bar in LA Thursday night.

Canadian hip-hop duo The Chuds created this tribute to 2'9" martial artist Weng-Weng, and paired it with some video clips from the small actor's many films. The ladies can't seem to help themselves in his presence. . .

Can you blame them?

Lately I've been thinking about definitive summer songs for a feature that will appear in the Weekly's forthcoming Summer Guide. One of the stranger specimens I'm leaning toward is Ween's fluke 1992 hit “Push th' Little Daisies” off the sporadically brilliant Pure Guava album. (It reached #18 in Australia's pop charts and aired on Beavis & Butthead—that counts as a hit, right?)

For some reason, I associate (some) archetypal summer songs with a sol-drunk wooziness that verges on stoned immaculateness and/or lysergic bliss. Because summer's supposed to be about a respite from responsibility and reality, yeah? At least temporarily, at least in theory... even for workaholics who sunburn easily.

Ween's odd ditty fits the above description well. The flanged guitar and slightly swaying rhythm obliquely suggest “tropical,” while the Cartman-esque vocals nudge the track into helium-inhalation absurdity. I dunno about you, but if I hear a song about pushing little daisies done in such a goofy manner, I am overcome with a desire to meander leisurely in nature while tripping on funny fungus. Now that's some wholesome school's-out activity right there...

Don't try this at home: DJ Frane's infamous "lightning lip scratch" trick.

Recent Sprawl of Sound star DJ Frane will be spinning at Continental Room's event in Fullerton tonight; he also plans to play some records. And oh what records he'll play. Anyone who's heard his bongadelic hip-hop instrumentals (composed of hundreds of samples from Frane's deep, deep stash of excellent funk, psych-rock, prog-rock and spoken-word wax) will attest to the Santa Monica producer's impeccable taste. The man rarely plays in OC, so don't sleep on this.

With Bobby Soul and Billy Goods at Continental Room, 115 W. Santa Fe Ave., Fullerton, (714) 526-4529; 9 p.m., free.

Better Than: Watching the Lakers lose to the Spurs.

Download: "Illuminated" from The Cult's website

The combination of roaring guitars, pummeling drums, driving bass and distinctive vocals is winning formula that has made The Cult successful for nearly thirty years. Ian Astbury (vocals) has one of the most characteristic voices in the rock world and still sounds as good as ever. Making it was no surprise that the Grove was packed last night.

Year Long Disaster sufficiently warmed up the crowd with a dash of Wolfmother like fuzz and early Queens of the Stone Age bass lines for a crowd pleasing opening set. Daniel Davies (vocals/guitars) was born to rock as he happens to be the son of Dave Davies of The Kinks. Daniel was all over the stage thrashing and slamming on his shiny gold top Les Paul.
I saw many beers hoisted in the air at the end of their set as the crowd thoroughly approved.

The Cult's two remaining members, Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy (guitars), were backed by some well seasoned players as they played to the packed house. The two tore through a mixture of songs from the past as well as some numbers from their latest release "Born Into This."

John Tempesta (drums) was the engine that propelled the driving new tune "I Assassin" sounding very much like classic Cult material. Astbury belted out "Edie (Ciao Baby)" while maintining his classic sound. Billy Duffy was in top form as well. He would frequently engage his wah pedal for a ear ripping solo. "Illuminated" was another new song that fit well into their catalog as Chris Wyse (bass) triggered some seismic notes.

Astbury displayed his proficiency with the tambourine throughout the night and threw a few into the crowd to give some lucky fans an extra special souvenir. The Cult didn't neglect classic songs such as "Love Removal Machine" and the former radio staple "Fire Woman" as they put on a textbook rock show.

Critic's Notebook:

Personal Bias:I used to practice playing guitar to The Cult album "Electric."

Random Detail:I ran into Page Hamilton of Helmet who happens to be one of my guitar heroes.

By The Way:Page was at the show to support his friend John Tempesta who used to drum for Helmet.

Click here to view photos from the concert.

Better late than never? Sure!
Weekly cover boys Phil Nisco, Chris Alfaro and Mark Yamaoka turned a weekend long extravaganza into The Crosby’s Official Grand Opening Party. So what if they opened two months ago? According to Nisco, the lineup of events this weekend just seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally put the “official” in somewhere.

Friday night dangled the promise of Obey’s mastermind Shepard Fairey taking to the turntables under the name DJ Diabetic. Not only spinning, but also showcasing art and a limited edition Obey/Crosby t-shirt. Naturally, every hipster within a ten-mile radius went into a complete frenzy. Unable to make it out that night, Music Editor Dave Segal assured me it was complete chaos.

Unwilling to be absent from another mixer of beat braking and libations, I was sure to be at the Crosby Saturday night for the Stussy and Turntablelab Beats LP Release party. Last night featured live sets by Nosuj Thing along with Nisco and Alfaro’s groundbreaking musical outfit Free The Robots.

The space, located on Broadway in the mushrooming Artist Village in Downtown Santa Ana, has an easy ability to get packed packed packed. A decent sized floor space is no match for the throngs of music lovers looking to get their drank and dance on when clearly no other event in the area could even hold a candle to The Crosby (sorry, Proof, but Fridays are more your night).

Free the Robots took to the tables just after midnight, when apparently people had finally found their dancing shoes. Or perhaps it was Le Receptionist making a rare social appearance and showing off those crazy moves that brought out everyone’s inner rug cutter.

Shining as brightly as ever, Free The Robots fluidly melted one song into the next, delighting with unexpected twists on favorites like "Dear Diary", "The Bearded Lady" and "Jazzhole".

Side note: The Crosby— serving only beer and wine until they can obtain that elusive liquor license— makes lethally delicious sangria.

View photos of the event here.

Over the last 13 years, Philadelphia quintet the Asteroid #4 have proven themselves to be extremely capable rejuvenators of psych pop, garage rock and country rock. They plow familiar ground yet still find rich seams of sonic sweetness in their hooky, sincere songs.

The Asteroid #4 know rock history and they earnestly repeat it with panache, even if they sometimes dip into pastiche. In this way, they recall the Lilys, another band of crafty appropriators of slightly underground rock tropes. Whatever the case, both groups' melodies win the day (and night), arguments about originality be damned.

You can listen to the Asteroid #4's albums here.

The Asteroid #4 play with the Quarter After, Matthew J. Tow, and DJs Frederick Phases and Billgazer at the Prospector, 2400 E. 7th St., Long Beach, (562) 438-3839; 10 p.m.

Here's live footage of the Asteroid #4's "My Love."

Allen Shellenberger, drummer for Orange County’s Platinum rock band Lit, was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor earlier this month.

After biopsy, it was discovered that Shellenberger’s cancer is malignant glioma ‑ a type of primary central nervous system tumor that usually occurs in the brain.

At only 38 years old, he is currently undergoing radiation and chemotherapy treatments with world-renowned neurosurgeons at the Cedars-Sinai Maxine Dunitz Neurosurgical Institute.

This is the same type of cancer Senator Edward M. Kennedy is battling.

On Wednesday, Shellenberger was interviewed for ABC's World News Tonight, shown below.

Better Than: Watching the American Idol Finals.

Download: "Holy Wars...The Punishment Due" from Megadeth's Myspace page

Shred is still alive and continues to thrive as the Megadeth curated band, Gigantour unleashed the demons of heavy metal at the storied Long Beach Arena. Megadeth is one of the original titans in speed metal and thrash. They headlined a night that included a copious amount of custom guitars and searing solos.

First up, sludge-like guitar riffs emanated from Matt Pike (guitar/vocals) as High on Fire romped through their set like a dinosaur on a vicious rampage. "Devilution" was scorching. I had to check that my earplugs were still in place because the volume was already screaming.

Despite what you might think, Job For a Cowboy is not a country band. Signed by the pioneering Metal Blade records, Job For A Cowboy surgically slices your eardrums with double bass drum blasts and scalpel sharp guitars. "Knee Deep" induced mass vertigo as the song had enough tempo changes to make your head spin.

The chants for Children of Bodom started minutes after Job For A Cowboy finished their set. Alexi Laiho (vocals/guitars) had his custom ESP signature guitar blazing as the crowd ate up "Hellhounds on My Trail." Janne Warman (keyboards) had me in stitches by playing the intro to Van Halen's "Jump" before one of their songs.

The Swedish metal band, In Flames, increased the ferocious pace of the evening with a dueling guitar tandem that jackhammered through "Disconnected." The band members could not help but smile as Anders Friden (vocals) implored the crowd, "Scream For Me, Long Beach!" as a nod to the classic Iron Maiden Life After Death album recorded in the very same arena.

Smoke crawled across the stage and a black tarp fell in dramatic fashion as Megadeth charged out of the gates with "Sleepwalker." Dave Mustaine (vocals/guitar) had his winged custom signature Dean guitar wailing as the band methodically played
selections from their new album United Abominations before closing out the night with "Holy Wars...Punishment Due" which ranks in my top ten list of the best metal songs of all time.

Critic's Notebook:

Personal Bias:I have the Megadeth album "Peace Sells..But Who's Buying" on vinyl circa 1986.

Random Detail:The guitar technicians played classic Iron Maiden riffs while tuning the guitars for Megadeth as another nod to playing at the Long Beach Arena.

By The Way: I never get tired of hearing guitar solos at a breakneck pace.

View more photos of the concert here.

Up-and-cunning garage rockers Foxboro Hot Tubs (who've never been seen in the same room with Green Day) will be playing LA's The Roxy May 27 and Alex's Bar in Long Beach May 28. Tickets are $20 and only available day of show at the venues. Bring your most comfortable sleeping bag—it's going to be a long day camping out. (Oh, and leave your cameras at home.)

Foxboro Hot Tubs will release their debut album, Stop Drop and Roll, on vinyl June 24 (it's already out on CD).

Here's the “Mother Mary” single.

Here we find rising UK soul superstar Jamie Lidell shortly before he dropped his 2005 breakthrough album Multiply. At this 2004 show in London, Lidell is in full-on experimental beatboxing mode. Creating rhythms and textures with his looped, extraordinarily supple vocal cords run through mysterious little boxes and Cycling '74 software, Lidell weaves complex matrices of tics, shticks, moans, wails, hiccups and gasps. The result is some of the funkiest glossolalia ever to ricochet around a venue. He turns that cavity in his head into one of the most mind-boggling percussion instruments I've ever heard.

I had the good fortune to catch Lidell's festival-climaxing set at the 2004 Mutek in Montreal. There he also donned a suit of jumbled recording tape and a race-car helmet, a subtle mockery of Vegas-y glam and glitter. The video below gives you an idea of the vocal acrobatics Jamie flexed at Mutek, a gig that blew my mind 17 ways to Sunday.

That athletic display is a long way from the throwback soul conventionality Lidell's pushing on his new full-length, Jim (Warp). One suspects that he'll be in a jus'-regular-folks Jim state of mind for his upcoming date at LA's El Rey Theatre May 29. I for one hope Lidell's recent fondness for trad-soul songwriting (as Redding/Green/Wonder accomplished as it is) subsides and he returns to the innovative voice contortions of life B.J. (Before Jim).

“The City” live at London's Royal Festival Hall

Oakland psych-pop darlings Rogue Wave roll into Orange County Performing Arts Center (OCPAC) Thurs. May 22 in support of their latest album, Asleep at Heaven’s Gate.

Good news: we have two tickets to the concert that we’d like to give to one of our readers. The first person who can tell me the title of Rogue Wave’s debut album will win ’em. (Please send your contact info to me at dsegal@ocweekly.com . Also, note that by entering this contest, you agree to be added to the email list of Boost Mobile [the show’s sponsor].)

Show info:

Boost Mobile and OCPAC Present:
Rogue Wave w/ Voxhaul Broadcast
Thursday, May 22, 2008 at 8pm
Orange County Performing Arts Center
600 Town Center Drive
Costa Mesa, CA 92626

Here’s the video for Rogue Wave’s “Publish My Love.”

What Made Milwaukee Famous, Ra Ra Riot, The Little Ones @ The Glass House on 5/16

Usually, walking into a venue to find it almost empty is a bit of a downer. I guess most people train themselves to believe that a concert is not worth going to unless it’s in a room full of people sweating all over them as they text their friends about what a great time they’re having. But last night at the Glass House, I got an opportunity to watch a handful of bands that might not be packing the house in Pomona, but are still full of promise: What Made Milwaukee Famous, Ra Ra Riot and The Little Ones.

Unfortunately, it looked like I had just missed the opener, Princeton’s set so you’re not going to hear much about them in this post… Go ahead, tell me what a lousy person I am. I can take it.

However, I did get to watch the next act, What Made Milwaukee Famous. This four piece band from Austin, Texas just released an album on Barsuk records, home of moody indie pop rockers like Death Cab for Cutie and Nada Surf.

Wasting little time with pleasantries on stage, vocalist/guitarist Michael Kingcaid and the band launched into the first track, Blood Sweat and Fears. It started off with heavy floor tom pounding by drummer Jeremy Bruch, and gave way to the seething breath of synthesizers courtesy of Drew Patrizi. The sound of this slow opener awakened the crowd and filled the space on the floor where bodies were lacking. The audience was treated to tunes that painted the stage with many different shades of pop. They weren’t afraid to show their sensitive side on radio-ready songs like “For the Birds." At some points in the chorus of “Self Destruct” his haunting lyrics “I wouldn’t self destruct for anybody else” pushed their way to the rafters.

If everything happens the way it should with the new record What Doesn’t Kill Us, they won’t have to worry about fans showing up to the show next time around. Luckily, everyone last night got to see What Made Milwaukee Famous before they get, well, famous.

The next band to play was a group who definitely lived up to their name on stage. Ra Ra Riot, a seven-member group from Syracuse, New York pumped some life into the crowd with a beautifully reckless sound mixed with thrashing chords, catchy vocals and some cello and violin shredding. You would think that after being on the road for four months, these guys would be all out of gusto by their last show. Fortunately that wasn’t the case. Vocalist Wesley Miles led the pack as he bounced around like a pinball off of bassist Matthieu Santos, Cellist Alexandria Lawn and violin player Rebecca Zeller.

By the time The Little Ones set up their gear on stage, a chunk of the audience had left the venue. But that didn’t stop this L.A. based band from giving it their all from beginning to end. They got some good crowd support with a new jam called “Ordinary Song” that would definitely hit the mark for plenty of power pop fans. The band gave a positive aura with their sunny sound, though their mediocre stage presence left a little to be desired through most of their set.

All in all, this was a good low key show at a well known venue that made me glad I didn’t stay home on a Friday night

Critic’s Notebook: The best song of the night was What Made Milwaukee Famous' song “Resistance Street," mainly because it didn’t sound like anything else in their set. This time around Kingcaid’s lofty croon was almost over shadowed by the dynamic musical arrangement of guitar by Jason Davis and the driving bass of John Houston Farmer. It felt like the kind of song that said “we may be catchy but we can still melt your face” as they thrashed wildly on stage.

Personal bias: I hate crowds.

Random Detail: The first thing to get my attention at The Glass House that evening besides the hot, musty air of the Inland Empire was a Toyota hatchback with a giant T.V. screen in the trunk, parked in front of the venue. Clusters of kids circled around the car like vultures and battled each other in one of those rock band games where being a bad ass means you can push multi colored buttons on a plastic guitar faster than all the kids on your block. With all the glowing lights and action going on in the car, at least people were getting some distraction waiting for the show to start.

By the way: Glass House has some mighty fine talent on the on the way including Matt Costa, Delta Spirit , and Jaguar Love, definitely worth getting off the couch for.

Get Yer Hands Dirty, B! Productions and Mute97 bring the Pharcyde to Costa Mesa's Detroit Bar Saturday. The Pharcyde (Imani, Bootie Brown, Fatlip and Tre Hardson) brought weirdness, off-kilter humor and smarts to mainstream hip-hop with two excellent LPs: 1992's Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde and 1995's Labcabincalifornia. Now, after a couple of lackluster albums following their peak years and some time off, they're trying to make a comeback. We wish them the best, even as we try to forget that annoyingly banal novelty song Fatlip did with the Chemical Brothers (“The Salmon Dance”).

Also on the bill: Sparrow Love Crew, From Elsewhere (noMSG, roamZILLA, urthWORM), Colossal KNXN, DJ Metric, GMO Vs. Rockberry and Y.O.O.K.S.

First 50 people to comment here (beginning at 10 a.m. Saturday) get $10 off their ticket. $15 adv; $20 DOS. 21+.

Check out the funky chucklefest that is “Ya Mama.”

Last night I went to OCPAC's showing of Susannah not quite knowing what I was to expect from an American opera by Carlisle Floyd. I was, however, certain of one thing: my deep, unwavering passion for opera in another language. There's something about stories set to foreign songs that is mysterious and indecipherable. It sends me reeling into a magical world where I forget what time it is. I actually despise having to get up to use the ladies’ room at intermission, lest I lose that magical feeling that washes over me when I finally, regretfully, detach from my seat.

Unfortunately, I just couldn't seem to wrap myself around Susannah. I did shift around though – in my chair, uncomfortably I’m afraid, all through the first act.

Maybe it’s just me (though clearly it wasn’t) but twangy opera done entirely in a Southern drawl isn’t my cup of tea. I'm sure it is for somebody, somewhere – just nowhere within a 30-foot radius of myself and my date for the evening, editorial assistant, Amanda Parsons. We gave way to whispering important commentary into one another’s ear:
“Is the conductor one beat or two beats ahead of the orchestra when directing them?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to Wikipedia that shit.”

Two of America's most reliable house/funky-breaks DJs haul their wax (or Seratos) to Newport Beach's Tentation Ultra Lounge tonight. A protégé of Donald Glaude as a young man in Olympia, Washington, DJ Dan has been a West Coast fixture on the rave/swank-club circuit for over 15 years. Dan consistently ranks near the top in DJ Magazine's annual best-DJ polls.

The same goes for Glaude, who came up in Tacoma, Washington in the '80s and later served as a catalyst for Seattle and San Francisco's dance scenes. On the decks, Dan (now based in LA) and Donald (operating in San Diego) complement each other like Red Bull and Rockstar (trust me, you can never have too much energy drink in you at these events). They won't dazzle you with innovative cuts, but they will keep the floor moving and full with solid streams of hypnotic, hyper house and breaks tracks that have been tested worldwide for their effectiveness.

Here's some footage of the duo at the latest Ultra Music Festival in Miami.

Your favorite krautrock/bossa-nova/French ya-ya/exotica/retro-futurist pop groop return to Costa Mesa's Detroit Bar just as summer's expiring. Tickets went on sale May 12 at the usual places and sites. Hesitation is not advised if you want to see this show.

Stereolab's first new album since 2004's Margerine Eclipse, Chemical Chords, comes out Aug. 19 on Duophonic/4AD. The songs I've heard from it sound like... Stereolab; no radical departures at all, but then they never radically depart from their signature approach. And that's cool. The track listing [see below] also maintains their typically oblique poetry.

'Neon Beanbag'
'Three Women'
'One Finger Symphony'
'Chemical Chords'
'The Ecstatic Static'
'Valley Hi!'
'Silver Sands'
'Pop Molecule' (Molecular Pop 1)
'Self Portrait With "Electric Brain"'
'Nous Vous Demandons Pardon'
'Cellulose Sunshine'
'Fractal Dream Of A Thing'
'Daisy Click Clack'
'Vortical Phonotheque'

Pitchfork recently interviewed primary 'lab songwriter Tim Gane. Here's a snippet:

I make music that I like the sound of, but then I tend to like kind of melodic music with slightly strange elements. The thing I really wanted to do on this record-- and that we did do, I think-- was make short songs that were more upbeat. Deliberately pick rhythms that were quite fast.

Now check out this great "Brakhage" song/video.

Huntington Beach's Matt Costa will be performing live on KCRW's "Morning Becomes Eclectic" today at 11:15 a.m.

Tune in to 89.9 FM, or if you're stuck at work, you can listen online at kcrw.com. For iTunes users—aren't we all?—there's a link embedded in the "Radio" section of iTunes.

Costa will also be playing a couple of sorta-hometown shows this weekend: Saturday at the El Rey and Sunday at the Glass House. Saturday's long sold-out but head over to Pomona to get your fix before Costa and co. embark on a mini-tour of the U.S. with the Delta Spirit.

If you're like me (and I hope this is the only way in which you are like me, for your own good), you go through phases where you obsess on certain songs for days. Recently my musical OCD latched upon Timmy Thomas' “Why Can't We Live Together.” This 1972 hit haunted me during my youth, as its mournful yet hopeful tone and ominous, primitive drum-machine beats starkly contrasted with the bulk of relentlessly upbeat fodder most of the dial offered.

(Don't get me wrong, though: commercial radio during the '60s and '70s—in the Detroit area where I grew up, anyway—was relatively awesome compared to the inane narrowcasting that prevails today. Why, in the early '70s, spacey funk instrumentals by Billy Preston, Deodato and Dennis Coffey could grace prime-time airwaves and somehow the peasants didn't revolt, Mr. Clear Channel executive.)

But let's get back to “Why Can't We Live Together.” Thomas' voice here is like a honeyed balm of essential vitamins and his Hammond organ vamps sting like Muhammad Ali jabs. The words are extremely simplistic and the sentiments unrealistic (even if Obama wins the next election), but, no matter. The song's crux is outlined in these six lines, which are as poignant and timeless as anything ever heard in a chart-dweller (I'll take this over John Lennon's soggy, milquetoast “Imagine” any damned day).

No more war, no more war. All we want is some peace in this world.

Everybody wants to live together.
Why can't we be together?

No matter, no matter what color.
You are still my brother.

As is often typical in popular songs, it's not the lyrics themselves that compel, but rather the way in which they're sung. In Thomas' case, he transforms humble source material into a deathless hymn to human possibility—even as Richard Nixon occupied the White House and the Vietnam War raged. Talk about insurmountable odds... Thomas sure enjoyed a challenge.

Better Than: Ick, it’s Monday. This is probably the best thing happening.

Detroit Bar’s no-cover Monday started off with The Deadnotes from San Clemente. An upbeat five-piece, they played the sunshiney good stuff that comes straight from the vein of The Turtles “Imagine Me And You” complete with back up vocals consisting mainly of “oooo oooos" (always impressive when a drummer can sing while pounding away, no matter how simple the crooning may be). Although they had some slightly off-key moments, highlights included the Beatles cover “You Can’t Do That” and a rockin’ keyboard solo that rocked as much as a keyboard solo can. The Deadnotes have an EP coming out within the next month should this be up your alley.

Tragically, a new design flaw kept the crowd pushed to the back of the room. Detroit had set up a row of low tables and chair several feet from the stage that acted more like an electric fence than comfortable seating. Not a single person would cross the line to get to the front of the stage—at least the crowd was polite, though sadly unable to dance.

The second band on the bill was Western States Motel. Another five-piece, this band added an acoustic guitar providing an organic sound that meshed well with this group’s electric elements. Oh, and there were maracas, too. And a xylophone. And a cowbell! Notably, this band did an absolutely delicious job harmonizing their vocals, blending the two voices together like butter. There were a few microphone issues (volume control, the occasional high-pitched wail), but that didn’t distract from Western States Motel’s sound: a squeaky clean, mid-tempo, folk-pop vibe that leaned toward Americana from time to time. Southwestern chill? That sounds right.

Finally the headliner, Silver Lake’s Castledoor, was up (they also hold the Monday night residency for the month of May). An almost vaudevillian ensemble, this clash of folksy flamboyance was just as visually appealing as the sweet music they made together. Two drop-dead gorgeous ladies played the keys and cooed wispy back ups, but the spotlight (had there been one) was definitely shining on frontman Nate Cole. Possibly the most comfortable person on stage I’ve ever seen, he shook and danced and gyrated to no abandon, thrashing about in his scarf and cardigan. Finally, some life from the audience was stirred in the form of wooos and howls.

Naturally theatrical, between songs Cole babbled on about hippy shit, the idea of being free, free pants and drinking water between your cheap margaritas. Castledoor had not one, but four tambourines along with another xylophone which seemed to be the instrument of the night. The lovably eccentric ensemble immediately conjured up a likeness to early Devendra Banhart — and sure enough, two songs after this realization the band covered Banhart’s “The Body Breaks." Loves it.

Critic’s Notebook

Personal Bias: After experiencing the live version of “Magnetic Forces," the song had claimed the title of My Favorite in the Castledoor catalogue.

Random Detail: Three bands... three hot drummers.

By The Way: Castledoor will be playing May 19 and May 26 at Detroit before their residency is up.

View photos of the event here.

Folk-rocker Shane Gooding died of cancer in 2007, but his music made a strong impact on many of his fellow OC/LA musicians. Consequently, MJ Lazarsky is organizing a tribute concert to Gooding, scheduled for May 18 in Rancho Santa Margarita, 1 p.m.-7 p.m. [see details below]

Called FG-V, it will feature 10 locals acts, including Steve Heaviside, Whitton, Jack Marko, Ron Hexagon, Sandra B, One String King and Francesca Valle.

Lago Santa Margarita Park
21472 Avenida De Los Fundadores
Rancho Santa Margarita, CA 92688
(near Santa Margarita Parkway, After parking- go 1 Block north around the lake)

Here's a clip of Shane playing at the Pike Bar in Long Beach.

By Andrew Youssef

Better Than: Sitting at home trying to emulate Rush on the Rock Band video game.

Download: The Big Money" from their Myspace page.

It's not surprising to see the occasional air guitar solo from an audience member during a rock concert. At last night's Rush show, air drums and air bass appeared in equal numbers as the power trio from Canada descended into Irvine.

Rush has released a number of live albums in their career and are renowned for their stunning live shows. This was no exception as Rush delighted the audience with an almost three-hour set.

Opening with "Limelight" got the audience out of their chairs immediately. The song still sounds as fresh as it did when it was released in 1981. Alex Lifeson (guitar) effortlessly peeled screaming harmonics from his guitar for the opening of "Red Barchetta" as the three LCD screens in the background depicted images of a car furiously droving down a windy road. Geddy Lee (vocals/bass/keyboards) was furiously slapping and popping his bass strings as he sang away and Neil Peart (drums), widely acknowledged as a drumming god, turned out a flawless performance.

It seemed like Rush had only played a few songs before they took an intermission almost an hour and a half after the began. They returned from their break with a vengeance, playing "Far Cry" from their Snakes & Arrows album. Geddy triggered tidal waves of synthesizer washes over the audience for "Subdivisions" as he switched between his Roland and Moog keyboards.

Minds melted when Neil Peart pummeled his drums for a solo during the song. His drum kit spun around as he destroyed his electronic set, leading me to declare that drum solos should be outlawed if your name isn't Neil Peart.

The hits kept coming as the band easily worked through "The Spirit of Radio" and the epic "2112: Overture/Temples of Syrinx." An animated short of Cartman and the gang from South Park mockingly performed "Tom Sawyer" to the laughter of the audience. Rush then showed them how to perform the classic rock staple.

After their final break the band returned to finish off the crowd with show stopping trio of songs that featuring "YYZ": the perfect musical coda for a special night.

Critic's Notebook

Personal Bias:I have their album "Moving Pictures" on cassette. Been a fan for a looong time.

Random Detail:The iconic alternative band Pavement rhetorically asked "How does Geddy Lee get his voice that high?" in their song "Stereo".

By The Way: I owe my mother a nice dinner to make up for missing Mother's Day.

View more photos from the concert here.

I was at the Good Foot monthly Friday night at Que Sera when I spotted the flier for Savage Republic's May 30 gig. I nearly spit out my vodka tonic. To see these post-punk legends in a club as intimate as Long Beach's Que Sera should be amazing.

In the '80s and early '90s, Savage Republic were one of my favorite bands, but I never had the pleasure of seeing them perform live, unfortunately. Although the prospect of seeing these guys (now based in Claremont) 20 years after the period that I consider to be their peak shouldn't be all that thrilling, I suspect that Savage Republic have not lost much of their ability to generate riveting, tribal-inflected rock and psychedelic dub. (Waleed Rashidi's live review on Heard Mentality from Jan. 13 confirms this suspicion.)

Savage Republic's music can move from the deepest, earth-moving trudge to the most sun-bursting flights of psychedelic expansiveness. Their range is incredible and their songs possess this irrepressible, triumphant spirit that somehow doesn't come across as corny; on the contrary, it makes you feel as if you could actually fight city hall... and win. Now if they can convince Brad Laner to rejoin them, I can die happily.

Below is footage of Savage Republic performing “Jamahiriya” live in Italy in 2007.

By Christopher Victorio

Better Than:
Spending 6 hours with pre-teens screaming in my ear on Saturday at Wango Tango.

Download: Tracks from the B-52s newly released album Funplex

On Sunday at the House of Mouse, the B-52s rocked out to a completely sold-out crowd of thirtysomethings. Promoting a new album after more than a decade of absence, the Georgian quartet came out from hiding under their rock (lobster) with a bevy of new tunes to dance and party to.

Their new album, Funplex, offers its loyal followers a crisp, edgy rock to modernize their sound but keeps that '80s pop feel that B-52s fans know and love.

The band looked great much like a fine red wine; The older the better. Kate and Cindy looked better than the OC Housewives (I think I spotted Tammy Knickerbocker there sitting on the other side of VIP and, trust me, she's looked better). Kate, the redheaded bombshell wore a loose red poofy blouse with decorated with two peace sign necklaces. Cindy had her captains hat on, Fred wore his shades and Keith was transported back to the '60s with the slim tie.

However, if time could be rewound, it would have benefited the band to have it set back before Cindy Wilson's voice was taken from her. She can still sing, but throughout the night, the high notes that Cindy could hit years ago were gone. Kate would muffle and camouflage the drop in Cindy's tone every time, making the change less noticeable. But add some strobes to her voice and you have the beginning of temporary dementia.

For some of the fans upstairs, many of whom were waiting for specific songs, the last song of the set Love Shack was worth the entire cost of entry. This is were Keith and the band's bassist got their jam session going on. The floor breathed up and down as everyone in attendance danced.

Critic's Notebook:
Personal Bias: I love the B-52s. They could do no wrong by me.

Random Detail: It took me about 10 minutes to get from the back of the House to stage right in the photo pit. But wait! There was no photo pit! Everyone in attendance was packed like sardines on the floor. I got to the back and then made my way upstairs. I had to go tight and low to get the shots.

View more photos from the live performance here.

Bauhaus/Love and Rockets bassist/vocalist David J will be DJing tonight at Costa Mesa's Detroit Bar for the LaBoiteFunk Dance Party. “I shall be spinning a deep lounge concoction of electronic Latin Jazz tinged grooves / dub & more,” David J said, when contacted via MySpace. Also, FYI: I've heard rumors to the effect that anyone requesting "Bela Lugosi's Dead” will be thrown into a vat full of guano.

Also on the bill: Them Jeans of Dim Mak Tuesdays at Cinespace, Colossal KNXN, Keith 2.0 of Moscow and DJ (n).

Detroit Bar, 843 W. 19th St., Costa Mesa, (949) 642-0600, 9 p.m., $10.

Here's a brief video of Mr. J spinning a song that sounds familiar, but I can't quite identify it—maybe something like Handsome Boy Modeling School, Tom Vek, or the Go! Team?

Nobody (Elvin Estela): a highest uncommon denominator kind of DJ.

Well, it looks like Elvin Estela Week here at the Weekly. My Sprawl of Sound column includes a review of his and Niki Randa's Blank Blue album on Ubiquity; we run his well-informed list of top albums with references to “blue” or “water” in their titles on Heard Mentality; and now we're tipping you off to his DJ appearance tonight at the long-running Good Foot monthly at Que Sera in Long Beach. (Nobody is Estela's DJ and producer moniker.)

We've seen Estela spin psych rock and hip-hop before, but not funk and soul, which are Good Foot's bread and butter (the night is hosted by the reliable dance-floor-fillers Dennis Owens and Scott Weaver [00 Soul].) So it should be interesting to see if Estela/Nobody can deliver the goods in these styles. My money's on him laying down some deep cuts for maximum mind and body satisfaction.

Que Sera, 1923 E. 7th St., Long Beach, (562) 599-6170; 9 p.m., $5.

Blank Blue's Elvin Estela, right, picks five watery/blue classics (and is Joni Mitchell pissed).

In this week's Sprawl of Sound column, I review Blank Blue's Western Water Music, Vol. II. I had hoped to include a list of the duo's favorite albums with the words “blue” or “water” in their titles, or those with strong allusions to those qualities. Unfortunately, BB's instrumentalist/producer Elvin Estela didn't get the list to me in time for the print edition, but thanks to the generous expanses of the intraweb, I can present his interesting list and explanations on this here blog.

In other news, Blank Blue's album-release party gig at the Airliner in LA last night vividly recreated the disc's aquatically glorious melodies, splashy funk, and immersive bliss.

Without further ado, here are Estela's seaworthy classics...

Songs of Blue, the Sea, and Things in It...

1. Dennis Wilson - Pacific Ocean Blue (Caribou, 1977). This album is FINALLY being reissued [by Rhino on June 17]. The Beach Boys were a hard band to accept as cool when I first started college radio at KXLU way back in 1996. All I'd known by them were the songs I'd heard with my parents in Pic'N Save. Lo and behold when I find out that my favorite song by Ladybug Transistor is actually an original by Dennis Wilson! I was flabbergasted! I immediately dug into Pet Sounds, but found their '70s albums much more fascinating, especially Sunflower, Surf's Up, and this special album by Dennis. They were given state-of-the-art recording equipment and they utilized it perfectly. The production and special effects on their records from this time are just insane. This