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Gimme Gimme Schlock Treatment

GIMME GIMME SCHLOCK TREATMENT – CRYSTAL CASTLES IN POMONA

There aren’t many reasons to go to Pomona that I can think of.

I’ve lived in LA for four years now and nothing has tempted me into making the 45 mile drive to what I assumed was the middle of nowhere. It’s someplace no one ever wants to go to. Like Arby’s. However as miserable as Pomona has always seemed to me, I could never help but notice how many good bands ended up there after LA at either the Fox Theater or the Glass House. Sometimes bypassing LA all together… as was the case this past week with Crystal Castles.

Crystal Castles are one of the few bands out there right now that have been talked about as a must see live act that has for one reason or another escaped my calendar. I decided the 50 mile drive was worth it…even if I’ll be seeing them @ Coachella in a month or so. Crystal Castles are a band that could very much wilt in the sun of Indio. They need the cover of darkness (Alice Glass is pasty!) and they seem like a band best enjoyed at night, preferably inside for their sound to really rock your brain. I had to do it.

After battling through the long drive I quickly started to worry about my decision. After picking up my tix from will-call I learned at the door that the Fox was an all ages show. Never have I seen such a collection of awkward teens.  As I walked into the venue’s lobby, which was now doubling as a runaway teen shelter/open casting call for the second season of Skins I realized one positive about hanging out at an all ages show. Absolutely no lines for booze. I could get used to that.

Even better was the weird Fox Theater rule that placed photographers on stage instead of off to the sides and or the pit. Not a common practice for me to say the least. I was kind of going through a William Miller experience at that point. Fortunately for me I didn’t bump into Alice Glass before she went on. I’d have some real egg on my face if I told her that her “guitar sound was incendiary.”  I’m a spaz like that.

A few weeks ago Alice had an accident and wrecked herself pretty good right and proper. The result was a broken ankle. Me personally, I’d probably just ask the doctor to amputate because I wouldn’t be able to handle the rehab-bing pain.  Alice? She had decided to go on with the tour and battle the pain with the help of a bottle of Jim Beam. No one seemed to care that Alice was hobbling up to the stage with a giant walking boot and a crutch. Going into the first song, I was crestfallen as I watched Alice use the crutch and mic stand combo as some sort of misguided homage to Tucker from There’s Something About Mary. The sight bummed me out because I wanted a full on 100% “Alice Practice.” I didn’t want some weakened half-assed facsimile of a star. I saw that when the Mets traded for Robbie Alomar and it’s something that I don’t want to live through again.

(click on images to enlarge)

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My concerns were fully put to rest after “Fainting Spells” ended with Alice rolling on the floor. She slithered over to her trusty bottle of Jim Beam and pounded far too much booze. She got up and after a short failed attempt to bring back Lisa Turtle’s famed dance craze, “The Sprain.” She lost the crutch and put on 60+ minutes of badassery. Alice Glass was no Robbie Alomar. She was an absolute fucking rock and roll star. She was (is) fucking Axl Rose circa Appetite for Destruction. There were three people on stage, but no one saw anyone but her –partly from the energy she was putting out there, all on one leg, and partly due to the seizure inducing light show that accompanied the Crystal Castles.

“She lost the crutch and put on 60+ minutes of bad-assery”

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“She was (is) fucking Axl Rose circa Appetite for Destruction”

Before the show I had told a friend that she was replaceable because her voice is so a secondary aspect to their pounding sound.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  She had the teenage crowd in the palm of her hand and made a liar out of me.

The energy in the crowd was frantic and had me worried at times.  Alice dove into the crowd multiple times to thrash and smoke a joint, and each time I felt like I was watching a baby play with a pit pull.  One false move by an overly handsy pimple-faced teen and they’d be looking at the receiving end of a mic stand to the face. Lucky for everyone at the show this never happened.  It’d be damn near impossible anyway since all of their hands were busy shooting video from their iPhones.

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(Pomona photo originally published here, for more photos from this show go to SYFFAL.COM)


DELTRON3030 RECOMMENDED: The Decemberists – The King is Dead

After disappointing everyone (present company included) with the bloated fairy rock opera “The Hazzards of Love” Colin Meloy and Co return to their roots on “The King is Dead”.   This album is full of classic Decemberist strengths: uptempo folksy jams married to hyper intelligent lyrics and that distinct Colin Meloy vocal warble. Their country meets REM sound is heightened even more on “Down By the Water” by the addition of REM’s own Peter Buck and some harmonicas.  They’ve really upped their twang on this release. It is the closed thing to country you’ll find coming out my speakers.  It makes me want to pop some dip under my lip, put on some Wranglers and buy a truck…a truck that gets good mpgs, comes preloaded with the audio book to David Foster Wallce’s Infinite Jest, and leaves a very small responsible carbon footprint…but a truck none the less
Highlights: This is Why We Fight, Don’t Carry it All, Down by the Water,
Rating: 6/10

DELTRON 3030 RECOMMENDED: Mark Ronson & The Business INT’L – Record Collection

What do you know about Mark Ronson? I read somewhere that he dj’d some celebrity wedding where he got so trashed he puked below the turntables. I oddly respect that dedication to both the beats and the booze. There was no quit in him.  Besides that he’s had to put up with producing awful Lilly Allen (is there a more constantly disappointing WWTDD nipple slip out there than her? For fucks sake man put some clothes on) and constantly deal with his idiot sister and her coke whore of a girlfriend.  I imagine family bbqs are a nightmare. Where am I going with this?  Mark Ronson seems like a decent guy.  Turns out he makes killer mixes too.

Ronson, after stringing together hits as producer, most notably on Amy Winehouse’s “Back to Black” and his collection of covers “Versions,” decided he wanted to celebrate his record collection…hence this album title.  He set a goal and he knocked it out of the park.  Ronson, a child of the 80’s, has made an an album that celebrates the “Me Decade” that molded him into the man/super producer  he is today. Here on “Record Collection” Ronson creates a sonic time capsule with a little help from a solid array of guest artists that when cobbled together challenges Maxim Balloon in mixtape-esque baddassery.  Blasphemy, I know.   I’ve been raving about Maximum Balloon for months, but this in many ways is a better album.  Hmm..perhaps I mean a better sampler. (speaking of “sampling” Ronson dated Daisy Lowe, who starred in the Esquire made video for Maximum Balloon’s Tiger”. I’ll take every chance i get to share that link)

This is like an “I Love the 80’s’”  Mixtape….with out all those snarky unfunny asides from washed up celebs (who I’m sure are all featured on Hollywood Is Calling and comedians grasping at some tv time.).  The only difference is instead of having to sit through “Safety Dance” for the 100th time (gladly!) you get to hear NEW 80’s songs.  Music “inspired by” the 80’s is a far better way to describe it….and what better way to craft an homage to that “Greed is Good” decade than by getting Duran Duran and Boy Fucking George to sing on your album.  Apparently Ronson has been working with Duran Duran for a year now working on their “great big comeback” album. If I allowed my brother on this Drop blast he’d be far too excited about this news.  He’s always been way into Duran Duran…some might say to an unhealthy level. If you told him about this comeback album he’s surely retort “Comeback? But they never left!!!!”   I’m still requesting a DNA test to verify that we’re twins.  I will give him credit where credit is due though, Simon Lebon’s guest vocals on the title track truly shine.  Maybe I should revisit the LeBon back catalog…

Right when I start having those dark thoughts the album shifts gears.  That’s the beauty of this “Record Collection”.  It offers up variety.   At any point you can go from Boy George clamoring for love to Ghostface Killah throwing down classic verses married to celebratory Ronson produced beats,aided by vocal cues from Alex Greenwald of Phantom Planet. Not sold yet?  How about Mr “Humdrum Town” himself Theophilus London.  No?  Record Collection also guests Spank Rock, DeAngelo, MDNR, Miike Snow, and Rose Elinor Dougall (of the Pipettes).  Even Q-Tip gets in on the act on “”Bang Bang Bang””,  jumping on  in his Delorean and channeling his inner “Groove is in the Heart“.  Yeah Yeah that was 1990..but I’ll always consider that Dee-Lite shit the swan song of the 80s.

Highlights: “Bang Bang Bang,” “The Bike Song,” “Record Collection,” “Somebody To Love Me”

Rating: 8/10

Go check him out this week!

October 12th – Webster Hall – New York, NY (with Francis and the Lights)
October 14th – Club Nokia – Los Angeles, CA (with Miike Snow)
October 15th – The Wiltern – Los Angeles, CA (with Miike Snow)

Watch Ronson, Q-Tip, and MDNR perform Bang Bang Bang on Letterman last night here


DELTRON 3030 RECOMMENDED: Mystery Jets – ‘Serotonin’

I’ve been sitting on this one since July. Yeah I know,  I’m a slacker.  Seeing as they’re playing at The Troubadour tonight I figured I should send this thing out already. The Mystery Jets are a fairly unique British band. They started playing together when they were very young, and one of the bands members include a lead singer with Spina Bifida…and his dad, who just so happens to be one of the coolest dads around. Listening to this album is like watching Ken Griffey Sr. and Jr. hitting back-to-back jacks…but with more hooks and less steroids. People have criticized the simple lyrics on some of the songs (EX: “Have you heard all the birds and bees have STDS“), but I’m not about to do that.  As I mentioned the dude writing these tracks suffers from fucking Spina Bifida so I don’t need that bad karma.  Plus, the simplicity is exactly what has me drawn in.  The album is chock full of simple hooks, infectious whistles, and easy to sing along choruses.   Each track sounds like it was hand-crafted to be that one hit single that would finally break them big in the States.  If I ever listened to the radio I would state, without fear of being snickered at, that this is one of the most radio friendly albums I’ve listened to this year.   I dare you to not like it.

Sadly due to poor health the touring band had to replace the “Old Dog” with someone more physically equipped to handle the rigors of the road. Truth be told the lead singer probably just wanted to get his rock star debauchery on and felt a little restrained by having his pops around.  I mean do you think Robert Plant’s dad was cheering him on when Plant and Page were banging groupies with a mud shark dildo?  How do you look your parents in the eyes at Thanksgiving after an incident like that?

Heads up LA, Tickets are still available.  If your Friday night is looking bleak perhaps consider brightening it up with a healthy dose of  “Serotonin.”

Highlights: Dreaming of Another World“Serotonin”, ”The Girl Is Gone”, ”Flash a Hungry Smile”
Score: 8/10

FYF FEST: A POST-EVENT GUIDE TO GETTING THE MOST OUT OF YOUR EXPERIENCE

“Any NY transplants who blew their noses the next day would instantly be taken back to Randall’s Island [Lollapalooza] circa 1994-1997.”

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FYF: The Experience: With it looking like The Detour Fest will never be returning, I find myself becoming more and more protective of the FYF Fest.  Much has been written about the logistical snafus of Saturday’s 7th Annual FYF Fest and I’m here to weigh in..  Common complaints about water prices, set delays, and ungodly long lines have probably done enough to scare people off for next year, and that’s a damn shame.  Let me try and put things into perspective for some people who are losing their shit.  For $20 I was able to see a slew of my current favorite artists on a beautiful day in Downtown LA, mere miles from my house.  Sure the lines were long, but with a little logic and some help from your wingmen and women you could work through the hiccups. Someone in your group wants a cheese-steak and you want beer? Expecting to be able to do both is unrealistic at any festival - Break off into groups and pick a spot to meet back up at.  Also, don’t expect to rely on your cell phones or texts.  You gotta work these things old school style.  Maybe FYF is catching more grief because it was 90 degrees and we were sitting in a glorified dirt farm.  It made many people miserable, but it made me feel a sense of nostalgia for the old days of the traveling Lollapalooza.  Any NY transplants who blew their noses the next day would instantly be taken back to Randall’s Island circa 1994-1997.  If anything, I wish it were not an all ages show because the longest lines of the day were for the beer tents and the VIP Cha Cha tent, but I understand the kids need their music too.

A lot was made about the lack of water access, but maybe I’m a hardened vet because I was throwing down R.B.V’s 2-3 at a time with no regard for hydration and I had a fantastic time.  My trick:  I had a quiet Friday night.  All of those suckers who were blacking out on Friday night were wilting in the heat while I was feeling like gold.  Gloriously drunk gold. My one true complaint, if I had any, is that perhaps the promoters took on more than they could chew, artist wise. I would have liked longer sets as I often felt like some bands were just getting into a groove when the schedule was forcing them off the stage.  So there you have it, they offered me too much music. Those bastards.

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FYF: The Bands: We came for the bands right?  Not for hot dogs, t-shirts, or f’n water.  I was able to hit most of my mapped out artists (sans Wavves) and they were terrific as expected.  My pal Tom (who took some fantastic pics, after the jump) labeled Wavves’ “King of the Beach” as the day’s highlight, even if a good deal of the rest of their set was mired in some bass sound issues.  I can’t speak on Wavves behalf, so I’ll go ahead and split my nod between Titus Andronicus and Delorean.  Both acts shined and had perfectly timed slots.  Mind you when I say perfectly timed I am not referring to them being on time (I’m looking at you Delorean) but the marriage between their sound and the atmosphere surrounding their stage.  The sun burning down on the crowd while dirt clouds kicked up when they kicked into “A More Perfect Union” was an awesome moment. Another friend who never spoke of his love for Titus more or less lost his mind and ran for the pit.  This is a kid who usually rocks out to old school Snoop and Dre so it was a beautiful sight to behold. Delorean far and away blew every previous act out of the water. I feel bad for anyone who left early during the 30-40 minute delay between their set and School of Seven Bells. They owned the stage and the crowd in a way that no other act before them had. Their dance chill wave sound matched with the Boogie Nights screen back drop (Amber Waves never looked so good!), flashing lights,and the occasional passing train turned the National Historical Park into the coolest outdoor dance-club that LA has ever seen.

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DELTRON 3030 RECOMMENDED: Brandon Flowers – Flamingo

– I imagine that this will probably catch more hits than most of my other blurbs. That’s fine. Your loss, dicks. I get that people dig the Killers sound. This was originally planned as a run of the mill Killers’ album but after Brandon Flowers’ band-mates decided to extend their hiatuses he chose to take what he’d written and try it out as a solo album, with a little help from rock’s favorite indie hipster ginger. That’s right Jenny Lewis’ name appears in the credits here as both a vocalist/writer (“Hard Enough”) and writer (“Was It Something I Said?”). She sure gets around.

I mentioned that it was planned as a standard run of the mill Killers album, but as I give it its first spin I’m realizing that to be quite untrue. it is actually kind of different. It still has the Killers D.N.A (“Crossfire”), but it’s been muted and toned down. Mr Brightside is a bit less bright. “The Clock Was Tickin’” is down right country country and “Playing With Fire” has a Springsteen meets Tom Petty vibe. It makes total sense because everyone is trying to be someone else in Vegas. Classic Nick Papa Giorgio syndrome here. Are far as anthems go the front man for The Killers’ sarcastic ode to Vegas is something to behold. All The Killers-haters, say what you will about Brandon Flowers, but “Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas” at its worst is still better than that awful Foxwood’s ear worm.

Highlights: “Hard Enough”, “Crossfire”, “Was It Something I Said?”, “Playing With Fire”