The Killers at Paramount Studios, New Years Eve 2006

Yeah, they went from Las Vegas’ answer to Duran Duran on the verge of making their Rio to earnest Americana-chasing banditos stranded somewhere out on Highway 9 in search of the last exit to Born to Run (with Earl J. Hickey on drums, no less). Still, Sam’s Town is no slouch, especially when soaring songs such as “When You Were Young” sound so sweet cranked up to 11 cruising down PCH like the last two seasons of The OC never happened. It’s only fitting that they headline this New Year’s Eve blowout on the “New York Street” lot of Paramount Studios, outfitted as “Times Square West,” complete with a midnight ball drop and the perpetually comely Carmen Electra serving as your hostess with the most. They don’t call it Hollywood for nothing. Cheers.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Bright Light Fever at Safari Sam’s, December 26

Meet the latest contenders in the scruffy but pop-positive rock sweepstakes, NoCal’s Bright Light Fever. Their brief but bombastic tracks go straight to the heart of the matter, piling sticky melodies on top of hard-charging drums, reminiscent of what the little girls have been swooning over lately (Panic at the Barbershop, for one), minus that whole wuss factor. Their debut, The Evening Owl (Stolen Transmission), finds our young charges doing their best not to get lumped in with such pabulum by digging deeper into their bag of musical tricks, exemplified by the Radiohead-y guitars of “Good Day, Good Day” and the gleefully maudlin piano-powered ballad “Crowded Street in May.” (“A Deeper Blue” just rocks.) Singer Evan Ferro can over-emote with the best of them, so watch out. They’re a good Warped Tour away from being bigger than Fall Out Boy.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Quetzal at the Echo, December 23

This fiercely Chicano outfit from East Los Angeles have been honing their decidedly nontraditional mix of urgent cultural pride and political activism for more than a decade, but, four albums later, it still sounds brand new. The band’s latest, Die Cowboy Die (Quetzal Music), finds them in a transitional mode, from lineup changes (new vocalist-keyboardist Quincy McCrary brings a soulful edge) to vibrant vocalist Martha Gonzalez’s meditation on impending motherhood, “Breast Pump Waltz.” What hasn’t changed is their fiery political voice, be it the perpetual debate over the U.S./Mexican border on “Migra” or an unflinching shot at America’s colonization power trip on the simple but effective title track, which wears a strong Morrissey influence in both Gonzalez’s vocal inflection and the sardonic lyricism: “The killing of millions of people/Now you must die/Genocide missions no longer justified.” Ain’t that the truth.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Ozomatli at House of Blues Sunset, December 22

It’s always a celebration when this quintessentially Angeleno peace mob hits the stage with its multiculti mélange of everything intended to make you dance, from south of the border beats to the defiant stomp of inner-city streets. They never stop searching out more flavors for their uplifting polyglot, most recently getting with Middle Eastern melodies and reggaeton rhythms (and a take on the theme to Showtime’s pot-tastic series Weeds). It’s been a couple of years since they’ve produced a fresh full-length (although they did appease fans with last year’s Live at the Fillmore), but that’s about to change in the new year when they drop Don’t Mess With the Dragon in March, born from an installation at L.A.’s Tropico de Nopal gallery. Expect plenty of pre-release previews.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

West Indian Girl at the Troubadour, December 15

These high-flying L.A. love children are ready to ease you into the approaching season of stress with a soothing swirl of velveteen melodies and the power of positive thinking. West Indian Girl (WIG to their friends) is notoriously named after a particularly potent strain of acid in the early ’60s, and it shows. Evoking memories from both Summers of Love (’67 and ’88), the band marries Woodstock-era uplift with the anything-goes ethos of the underground rave scene to create electronic-tinged psychedelia somewhere between classic Pink Floyd and Primal Scream when they were still taking Ecstasy. It all comes together on their signature single, the dreamy, slow-motion anthem “What Are You Afraid Of?” (Other than tripping too hard on the visuals, not much, friend.) The War Tapes and Test Your Reflex open the show.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

L.A. MUSIC ’06: IMA ROBOT

After years of madly pogo-partying all over the local circuit, L.A. hipster faves Ima Robot have connected with the rest of the world big time on their second L.P. (and first for Virgin Records), the archly titled Monument to the Masses. Led by the anthemic Devo-goes-emo thrash of single “Creeps Me Out,” the band’s Technicolor splatter of skittish synths and Casio box-beats has even landed them an opening slot for by-the-numbers “modern” rockers All-American Rejects. All the easier for them to poach a new legion of slavishly devoted fans, I suppose. MTV and your kid sister’s bedroom wall can’t be far behind.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

L.A. MUSIC ’06: PIGEON JOHN

Does anybody remember laughter? Exhibit A: Pigeon John. He makes hip-hop that’s fun (and funny) but full of substance, a gentle juxtaposition of tragedy and comedy that would make Wes Anderson proud. His 2006 album Pigeon John and the Summertime Pool Party was just that, a sunny amalgam of easy beats and everyman witticisms that cross-pollinated the Pixies with thoughtful raps without missing a step. He beat Jay-Z to the hip-hop–for-adults punch (“Growin’ Old”), proving that rocking the mike can be grown folks’ business too. More Beck than Lloyd Banks, Pigeon John is the Fresh Prince of L.A. Dec. 29 at the El Rey, with Blackalicious, Tre and Phatlip.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

L.A. MUSIC ’06: BUSDRIVER

Hip-hop doesn’t get much more indie than this. Project Blowed alum Busdriver is as likely to kick it with Pitchfork approved acts like Islands and Coco Rosie as he is alongside fellow nonfigurative word manipulators such as Subtitle and Abstract Rude. But really it’s a jazz thing, as Busdriver jump-cuts across genres (and thesauri) with a quickness, making sure that even the kids way in the back understand that this is not your daddy’s boom-bap (in case the inside-out productions from folks like Thavius Beck and Daedelus didn’t make it clear enough). Oh, and naming his new album Roadkillovercoat. Party time!

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

L.A. MUSIC ’06: THE GREY KID

Just what them cool kids have been waiting for: the hipster Justin Timberlake you don’t have to feel guilty for loving. Like a prettier Mickey Avalon run through Girl Talk’s post-everything sonic blender, he’s already paid homage to Timberlake with his heavily YouTubed parody “Paxilback,” but this ain’t just fun and games. Kid can get all earnest with that falsetto, as evidenced on the Interpol-gone-pop strum of “Lonely Love,” found on his surprisingly solid debut 5, 6, 7, 8. Check his hip-hop heart on the free mixtape The Pilgrimage, which finds him greying up the Clipse and Jay-Z. Stardom’s inevitable. Jan. 13 at the Echo, with Girl Talk.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

L.A. MUSIC ’06: THE BLOOD ARM

Yeah, Franz Ferdinand loves ’em. But why wouldn’t they? The Blood Arm’s no frills lotsa thrills brand of catchy classic rawk shoots right between the eyes with sticky melodies and dramatic delivery. Live, they take audience participation to a whole other level, with singer Nathaniel Fregoso spending as much time climbing on the crowd’s heads as he does flinging himself spastically across the stage. Strokes comparisons are close but no cigar, evidenced by TBA’s recently released Lie Lover Lie (City Rockers), a grimy collection of inner-city blues that digs much deeper than that to reveal big, bleeding hearts that are pure Los Angeles.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Peaches @ Avalon, December 13-14

Peaches is a lot like George Clinton reimagined as a sexually charged extreme feminist from planet Amazon: Free your vagina, and your mind will follow. She espouses that liberation of all kinds can be found between the legs, exemplified in orgiastic anthems like “Fuck the Pain Away” set to her signature electro-metal maelstrom. She’s downright civic-minded on her latest CD, Impeach My Bush, using sex as a political weapon (“I’d rather fuck who I want/than kill who I am told to”), bolstered by even brasher beats and new buds like Joan Jett and Josh Homme. Live, she’s backed by her new band, the Herms (as in Peaches & Herms — cute, right?), which boasts Le Tigre’s JD Samson and former Hole tub-thumper Samantha Maloney. Electro-shocked U.K. indie act Whitey and local glam-slammed tranny Jeffree Starr set it off.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Spank Rock, Debonair Samir @ Safari Sam's, December 12

It’s hip-hop on 45, rapid-fire raps over aggressively futuristic beats and pieces as equally informed by videogame soundtracks as they are by U.K. garage. Spank Rock are on some other shit — all jittery, coked-up dance tracks superglued to casually misogynistic lyrics that scream “Look at me!” while swinging a private-school tie overhead. It’s a Philly by way of Baltimore party thing, finding common ground between Hollertronix’s dance-or-die ethos, Too Short and your nephew’s PSP. These junior-mint pimps are showing indie bed-heads how to live, talking trash, clocking cash and slapping ho’s like nobody’s business. Don’t think, just shake that ass. Do your drugs early enough to arrive in time to get an education in Baltimore club music from opener Debonair Samir. Hollywood’s DJ C_Town will make sure the hipsters are in check. Somebody say hi to Cory Kennedy for me.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 12/06)

Amy Millan at the Troubadour, December 7

Already familiar to the indie nation for her presence in Broken Social Scene and Stars, Amy Millan takes a solo turn on Honey From the Tombs (Arts & Crafts), which meanders into far folksier, alt-country territory. Songs like “Baby I” and “Losin’ You” are stark, plaintive confessionals that should come complete with a shot and a beer. Lyrical images of dirt roads after dark, front-porch swings and hard-luck lovers wondering where it all went wrong come alive in her music, with echoes of Mojave Three and the mellower side of Mazzy Star. Oddly enough, one of the album’s standouts is the gorgeously lush “Skinny Boy,” a jangle-heavy shoegazing rock jam that turns up the noise and finds hope (however fleeting) in “lips I could spend a day with.” Sweet emotion indeed.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Imogen Heap at the Wiltern, December 1

Frou Frou’s eponymous 2002 album was just another sadly overlooked CD clogging the used bins at Amoeba until Zach Braff’s ex-girlfriend suggested their song “Let Go” for his movie Garden State. The tune’s ornate blend of baroque and beats perfectly encapsulated the film’s precious approach to growing up, an apt centerpiece for the soundtrack’s ad-hoc Big Chill for the iPod-generation sentiment. Singer Imogen Heap’s flair for the dramatic carries over to her solo work, an electrified juxtaposition of emotive introspection and digital manipulation that’s decidedly cinematic. (Her version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” played as Marissa died in Ryan’s arms on The O.C., the series that helped catapult her song “Hide & Seek.”) She shares the stage here with beat-box phenomenon Kid Beyond and acoustic troubadour Levi Weaver.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Talib Kweli @ House of Blues Sunset, Sunday November 26

When Jay-Z big-upped Brooklyn’s perennial indie-rap hero Talib Kweli on “Moment of Clarity” (“If skills sold/truth be told/I’d probably be/lyrically/Talib Kweli”), it was a watershed moment. The king of bling and braggadocio acknowledging the people’s champion with such a bold proclamation was like a sledgehammer to the Berlin Wall between the underground and commercial sides of the hip-hop nation. Kweli’s been bashing away at it ever since. He’s adopted Jigga’s business acumen, establishing the Blacksmith Music label, snatching up fire-spitting rapstress Jean Grae. In the downtime until his upcoming album, Ear Drum, drops, Kweli’s MySpace page is burning with bomb tracks like “Funny Money,” alongside Madlib from their anticipated Liberation collaboration, and “Country Cousins,” which finds T.K. trading verses with Southern dons Bun B and Pimp C. Yo, Nas: Hip-hop is so not dead. Black Moon’s Buckshot opens.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Kevin Federline at House of Blues Sunset/Jay-Z on Jimmy Kimmel, November 22

I imagine Britney buzzed on Red Bull and licking Cheetos dust off her fingers, furiously flipping through an Us Weekly story about Whitney leaving Bobby. Suddenly, she has a moment of clarity. “Hey!” Britney exclaims to her ever-expanding brood and the day’s random manny. “Replace the crack with Starbucks, and it’s me and Kevin in 15 years. That’s not cool, y’all!” It’s hard not to appreciate Kevin Federline’s relentless opportunism just a little. From Britney to CSI to sucker-punching wrestler John Cena on WWE Raw, Holmes is repping Fresno pretty hard. Then there’s the music. From the faux Brazilian favela funk of “Popozao” to the equally facetious gangster rap of the wryly titled “America’s Most Hated,” this is about as ridiculous as it gets. Which, of course, is the point.

In contrast, on this very same evening Hovito (AKA Jay-Z) along with his new friends at Budweiser and The Jimmy Kimmel Show, shut down Hollywood Blvd to honor the release of Hov's Kingdom Come album. Regardless where you fall on the hater/fan spectrum, you can't deny there is no one working even half as hard as Jay right now. I mean damn. Is it me, or is he really everywhere at once right now? Today's edition of 106 & Jay on BET was live as hell. Just Blaze, Skateboard P, UGK, Timbo and Mephis Bleek riding shotgun while Jay-Z rolled out ten hits from his past 10 years in the game. On point and hopefully on Youtube by now. Me, I'm not mad at Kingdom Come at all. Disappointed maybe, but not mad...

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06. Most of it, anyway)

The Rapture, The Presets at Henry Fonda Theater, November 20

There’s always been more to Brooklyn-based band the Rapture than they’ve been given credit for. Because they’ve been overshadowed by their affiliation with indie dancehall crashers the DFA and deeply mired in the disco-punk shuffle of 2005, it would’ve been easy to chalk them up as a one-underground-hit wonder, thanks to the 2002 hipster anthem “House of Jealous Lovers,” which still sounds as furiously vital today as it did then. Their underappreciated debut, Echoes, found the band successfully experimenting with earnest ballads, moody techno and dramatic post-punk discordance. Now they’re back with Pieces of the People We Love, streamlining their sound into taut blasts of brainy, pop-tastic dance-rock for highbrow booty-shakers. With saxophones! The ’80s never sounded so good. Australian electro-twins the Presets get confrontationally digital like an irreverent, lo-fi version of the Knife.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Clipse, Luckyiam.PSC at House of Blues Sunset, November 13

Last year, rapper Young Jeezy scared parents and teachers alike with the ubiquitous urban logo of a scowling Frosty, a wry reference to dealing “snow” that showed up on scads of suburban teen t-shirts. But he’s got nothing on Virginia Beach snowmen the Clipse. Brothers Pusha T and Malice have rocked their way to the upper echelons of hip-hop society with true tales of inner-city street economics, their appropriately nasal flow married to the bouncy, futuristic productions of the Neptunes. They were discovered by the Ice Cream Man himself, Pharrell Williams. Protracted label drama has kept their relentlessly bootlegged sophomore LP, Hell Hath No Fury, from official release, but it’s already being touted as an instant rap classic. Tonight they share the stage with Living Legend Luckyiam.PSC representing the home team.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Lupe Fiasco at the Key Club, November 10

In a real-life hip-hop remake of Revenge of the Nerds, Chicago mic manipulator Lupe Fiasco brings back an organic appreciation of all things geek-chic: comic books, obscure Japanese clothing labels, sneakers (Reebok sells one of his designs) and, of course, skateboarding, with his swimming-pool-smooth single “Kick, Push” the nicest beat you’ll hear on televised skate competitions. Mentored by none other than rap’s Jedi master, Jay-Z, Fiasco showcases his levelheaded perspective, Islamic faith and admiration of Nas (F&L is modeled after Nas’ It Was Written CD) on his debut, Food & Liquor. Boasting tracks from the likes of Kanye West, the Neptunes and his own 1st & 15th crew, Fiasco’s album righteously bridges the gap between indie-friendly and radio-ready. The jury’s still out on the live show, so tonight’s the night.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)

Lee “Scratch” Perry at House of Blues Sunset, November 7

Like a smoked-out James Brown from way-outer space, reggae icon Lee “Scratch” Perry is one of modern music’s most profound and influential characters to whom countless artists are massively indebted. From his own genre-creating productions of the ’60s and ’70s that defined the dub aesthetic to work with everyone from Bob Marley to the Clash, this genuine genius/madman’s legendary status is long established. On his latest CD, Panic in Babylon (Narnack), the 70-year-old Perry has wandered back from the wilderness to produce his strongest full-length in years, despite the nonsensical narrations (“Have a Perry salad/for this is a Perry ballad”). It’s bolstered by remixes from disciples like DJ Spooky and TV on the Radio’s David Sitek, who remixes the title track with breathtaking aplomb. Shine on, you crazy diamond.

(Originally published in the LA Weekly, 11/06)