Amy Winehouse : After the Tabloid Headlines and Rehab Jokes Have Ended, the Music Remains

I had no idea who Amy Winehouse was in 2006 when I first heard Me and Mr. Jones. I'd somehow missed all the press about her beatification as music's new "It" girl, and the song mystified me. Was this some obscure treasure by a ‘60s girl group, a quirky jazz/indie performance piece or tongue-in cheek R & B by a seasoned artist? I never would have guessed a 22-year old white girl from Southgate, London was responsible for that smoky, commanding contralto voice. Of course, if I’d listened more closely to the lyrics, which mentioned “Slick Rick” and “fuckery”, maybe the singer’s age wouldn’t have been such a surprise to me.

As I listened to more of her work-and her songs were everywhere in 2006 and 2007- the maturity and artistry of her delivery and lyrics continued to amaze me. How could a woman in her early 20s sound so genuinely, from-the-guts bluesy and world-weary on Love is a Losing Game and offer the casually ironic wit of Fuck Me Pumps, an observational song about English “footballer” groupies. The subtle delivery of Fuck Me Pumps  (from Winehouse's first album, Frank) doesn’t seem like one dished out by a 20-year old. One would expect an angry, hip hop denunciation of bitches and hos from someone so young, but Winehouse’s smirky expose disses said women more effectively than any acidic diatribe ever could.

Tears Dry on Their Own is at once a recollection of a bittersweet, illicit love affair and a declaration of feminist freedom. “I cannot play myself again/ I should just be my own best friend/not fuck myself in the head with stupid men,” Winehouse declares in one verse. Valerie Simpson and Nicholas Ashford co-wrote Tears Dry on Their Own, but Winehouse owns the song with the honesty and directness of her vocals. The presentation exposes the raw complications of love and psychoanalyzes it at the same time. The song Back to Black played out like an updated version of jazz standards like Black Coffee and Cigarettes, where the screeching anguish of lost love has descended into a dull, consistent ache.

The constant barrage of photos and video clips of Ms. Winehouse over the last few years exposed her as a cracked-out, bloody mess, running barefoot and disoriented in the middle of the street, ostensibly snorting coke onstage and generally being an out-of-control rock star. At first it seemed like a bad joke. Was she portraying the Saturday Night Live character Candy Slice run amuck?  After awhile, it became apparent that this was no laughing matter.  Unlike other members of the 27 Club, who muddled through highs and lows for several years before succumbing to the dark side, Amy just ceased to exist as a performer and musician one day and morphed into a permanent train wreck

I’m not a doctor (and I never played on TV), but copious amounts of alcohol, crack, heroin and whatever else the girl was shooting/snorting/imbibing on a regular basis was enough to kill not just a horse, but a whole stable. The holier-than-thou notion that most people can “snap out of it” after years of intense drug and alcohol abuse is a misnomer; we’re all wired differently and most people can’t just pick themselves up and walk away after a certain point. Given the amount and longevity of Winehouse’s drug and alcohol abuse, it seemed the light at the end of the tunnel was, indeed, farther than she could navigate.

If Amy had overcome her demons, it surely would have given her a wealth of material to match or outdo Back to Black. If she sounded like a jazz singer in some smoky nightclub at 22, can you imagine what she would have created at 35 or 40? She certainly had the talent and the raw chutzpah to become the Billie Holiday of her generation. It’s too bad she left us before she had the chance to generate an extensive body of work.

The Kabbs – Skater-Friendly Garage Rock from San Diego

The Kabbs, a melodic, garage rock quartet from San Diego, have just released their second EP, which is currently available for free on their Bandcamp site. The EP’s three tunes are unadorned, skater-friendly slices of power-pop with attitude. There’s even a nod to Brian Jonestown-like psychedelica thrown in here and there to keep things interesting. The band plays regularly in S.D., taking the stage at the Kensington Club, El Dorado and other local haunts. The Kabbs rock the Casbah (sorry, couldn't resist) on July 21 w/ Ty Segall and the Fourth Annual Johnny Rad Fest, with the Spits, the Stalins of Sound and several other bands the last weekend of July.

Night of the Living..Britney Spears Fans?

So…last Monday when I was walking back from the Regal Cinemas at L.A. Live, I encountered literally dozens of 20something couples walking toward the Staples Center. The guys were wimpy white thug wannabes; the girls were all wearing short dresses that barely covered their privates and spiky heels  so high they could barely stand up. What is this, I thought? Night of the bottle service sluts and douchebags! NO!! Night of the Living..Britney Spears fans! A few days later, I found out Britney had played the Staples Center that night and the wall of 20somethings I encountered were indeed fans on their way to her concert.

Yes, apparently, Britney’s fans, at least certain ones in L.A., have adopted a concert-going uniform.  Brit’s handlers are still trotting her out there, even though the poor girl stands bewildered onstage much of the time while her dancers contort around her. Her music is simply well-produced, vacuous techno/dance trash, nothing more. Let’s face it, it’s not supposed to be intelligent or built to last. That’s beside the point. Britney is an entertainer, not a musical artiste. Her stage show, videos and persona are candy-coated soft-core porn – and in the mainstream pop world, that means $$$. I like Britney, always have – she seems like a sweet, genuine, largely clueless girl whose childhood love of singing and dancing led her into lotsa money – and lotsa trouble. She’s 29 now, and still under conservatorship by her Dad. Not a good sign. By the way, what happened to her power-hungry Mom? She seems to have completely disappeared.

Here’s Britney’s latest video –Mad Max meets Brit as futuristic, scantily clad biker girl hosting underground rave. 

LAFF 2011 Film Review: Mamitas

Jordin (E.J. Bonilla) and Felipa ( Veronica Diaz-Carranza) strike up a life-changing friendship in  "Mamitas".

Two Latino youths from different backgrounds form a life-changing friendship in the heartfelt coming-of-age film Mamitas. Director/writer Nicholas Ozeki expanded the storyline of his well-received 2007 short film into a feature film. The full-length Mamitas debuted at the Los Angeles Film Festival on June 22nd.

We’re not sure what to make of Jordin Juarez (E.J. Bonilla), a high school “playa” in Los Angeles. He's constantly in trouble in the classroom and on the playground when we first meet him. Jordin is handsome and charismatic, but has no positive outlet for his energy. When strict but well-meaning teacher Miss Ruiz (Jennifer Esposito) gets him suspended, his week off turns into a journey of self-discovery. His new friend, Felipa Talia (Veronica Diaz-Carranza), an honor student, joins him in his quest.

The film deals with several intertwining family dramas. Felipa and Jordin forge a relationship in spite of, or perhaps because of, these intrigues. Jordin accidentally discovers some long-hidden secrets about his Mom, who died in childbirth. Felipa has her own issues: her mother has mysteriously vanished from her life. Originally from New York, she lives with her aunt, uncle and boy-crazy cousin Kika (Kimberly Burke) in Echo Park. The bookish Felipa seems nerdy, but she turns out to be quite feisty and confronts Jordin after what she perceives as a diss. Mamitas concentrates on Jordin and Felipa’s budding friendship and subtle flirtations at the beginning of the film, but there’s much more to the storyline than young love.

Felipa endures heartbreak caused by her M.I.A. Mom and deals with life as an educated misfit in a world of hip-hop music, thug wannabes and short-skirted party girls. A fight with Kika is at once funny and all too true as Felipa is driven to her breaking point by her cousin’s ongoing cattiness.

Mamitas integrates the L.A. Hispanic experience into the film’s fabric instead of presenting ethnicity as the focal point. All thhe touchpoints of life for a Latino teen in L.A. are here, though - the hip-hop party, the local slut, fights on the basketball court - and the obligatory lecture by the school counselor about going to college.

The cast, a combination of veteran character actors and young novices, work together flawlessly. Alex Fernandez, as Jordin’s widower father, Alvaro, works hard to give Jordin and his brother Hector (Jesse Garcia) a good life. But dealing with his rebellious younger son isn’t easy. Alvaro and Jordin remain emotionally estranged for much of the film.

Offhand appearances by writing teacher Alexander Viera (Joaquim de Almeida ) and Jordin’s rascally but wise grandfather “Tata” (Pedro Armendáriz Jr. ), add some colorful sidenotes to Jordin’s journey. There’s a distinct likeability and ease to the performances that make viewers identify with all of Mamitas' characters, from the main characters down to the supporting cast. Mamitas portrays the lives of L.A.'s Latino families from an inside perspective, not from the typical outsiders' eyeview of drugs, gangs and other sensationalistic subjects.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/video/article/movie-review-mamitas/#ixzz1QM47fc84

LAFF 2011 Film Review: The Fatherless (Die Vaterlosen)

Austrian director Marie Kreutzer's The Fatherless (Die Vaterlosen), one of the films entered in this year’s Los Angeles Film Festival’s narrative competition, explores how children raised in a totally unstructured environment can suffer as much emotional damage as children brought up in an authoritarian household. Four siblings converge on a isolated house in the Austrian countryside after the family patriarch Hans (Johannes Krisc) passes away, with only his "adopted" physician son Niki (Philipp Hochmair) present when he dies. Through flashbacks, it’s revealed that Hans was the leader of a free-love hippie commune in the 1980s and fathered children with different women. He finally settled down with Anna (Marion Mitterhammer) who lived with him until his death.

The setup seems somewhat clichéd, as one by one, the rest of Niki’s siblings arrive at the house. There’s something off about these siblings – they hardly seem to recognize each other. During the first third of the film, it’s a little difficult to determine who the characters are and their relation to each other. Are they brother and sisters, half-siblings, friends, acquaintances? It’s hard to tell. The characters themselves aren’t even sure at first, and they open up to each other bit by bit.

The central story concerns estranged sister Kyra (Andrea Wenzl), who hasn’t seen her siblings for 23 years. She bears a bitter grudge against Hans, though it’s not apparent why at first. When Mizzi (Emily Cox) meets Kyra, she is anxious to learn more about her estranged sister.

The family spends a few days together while waiting for Hans’ funeral. Leisurely dinners and wine-laced chats soon give way to long-buried memories of chaotic scenes at the communal dinner table and Hans’ selfish motives. Idealistic brother Vito (Andreas Kiendl) takes over the house-repair duties, and his attempts to rally the family together meets resistance. Meanwhile, Anna’s altruistic demeanor cracks and she spills some secrets of her own.

Kreutzer' s meticulously paced script focuses on developing the characters as individuals. Enough information is revealed to keep us hooked until the siblings unravel several childhood mysteries, including the origin of Mizzi’s neurological disorder. All the usual props-scrapbooks, diaries, letters, even cassette tapes are employed to delineate family events. They’re subtle lead-ins to exposition that springs naturally from the characters.

The Fatherless examines the social and emotional effects of a communal upbringing on children. Instead of exploring the politics of this subject, the emphasis is on how such an atmosphere affects the individual. How did the parents’ freeform, laissez faire attitude shape the children’s identity and sense of family as they grew into adults?

The ensemble cast handles the emotionally charged material with aplomb. Wenzl gives Kyra just the right mix of willfulness, anger and composure. Portraying a character with such a complex history without going “over the top” was surely a hard task, but this young actress approaches it admirably. The rural Austrian landscape is lovingly photographed, in contrast to the VHS-quality look of the 1980s commune flashbacks. The Fatherless is an impressive debut from director Kreutzer, who approaches a difficult subject with sensitivity and skill.

*The Fatherless was filmed in German with English subtitles.

 Read more: http://blogcritics.org/video/article/movie-review-the-fatherless-die-vaterlosen/#ixzz1Q4gOVyaz

LAFF 2011 Film Review: Sawdust City

Bob Church (David Nordstrom) and his brother Pete (Carl McLaughlin ) bar hop in search of their estranged father wih the help of  ne'er-do-well Gene (Lee Lynch)

                                              

A slowly simmering Cain/Abel feud between two brothers searching for their alcoholic father drives the narrative in the drama Sawdust City, which premiered at the Los Angeles Film Festival June 19th. Director/writer David Nordstrom’s first feature film channels the Midwestern ennui of Eau Claire, Wisconsin (his hometown) as ex-sailor Pete Church (Carl McLaughlin) and underemployed family man Bob Church (played by Nordstorm) bounce from bar to bar on Thanksgiving Day to find their long-lost Dad.

Nordstorm's acting credits include Little Rock, Short Form Films’ well-received tale of Japanese siblings stranded in Little Rock, Arkansas, and 2004's Trona playing “The Man” lost in the desert. His indie acting experience surely adds to his rich and complex performance as hotheaded brother Bob in Sawdust.

A radio announcer’s mellifluous voice pops up every so often as the brothers drive (and eventually walk) from bar to bar through Eau Claire’s barren streets. The announcer’s flat jokes are a perfect accompaniment to the snow-covered sidewalks, railroad crossings and clapboard houses that double as taverns. The geography of Sawdust City paints a land that is as desolate emotionally as it is physically.

The film has the potential to combine both pathos and humor, as most of the action takes place in bars. Comic relief appears in the brothers’ travels via a loquacious, money-strapped barfly named Gene (Lee Lynch), whose tales of his unseen lumberjack girlfriend provide most of the film’s chuckles.

The father in question is seen only through old photographs as Bob and Pete bicker back and forth about childhood events. As day turns into night, tensions flare between them. The combination of cold weather, too much alcohol, and exposed secrets drives Bob and Pete to their respective boiling points. A long shot of Pete walking along a snowy road near the end of the film exemplifies not only the bleak surroundings, but the stark reality of the brothers’ plight. While Bob alternates between logic and rage, younger brother Pete is an enigma for much of the film.

Well-acted and emotionally taut, Sawdust City is a compelling portrait of siblings entangled in a not-so-happy reunion. It’s an ultimately downbeat tale, to say the least, but indie film fans will admire its artistry. Sawdust City is an official selection of the Los Angeles Film Festival.

Article first published as Movie Review: Sawdust City on Blogcritics.

A Musical "Guilty" Pleasure: Trash by Alice Cooper

Hair metal was to the late 1980s what disco was to the 1970s - an all-pervasive and hot selling musical form that has since been discounted (save for a few exceptions) as worthless muck  It seems every band in the late ‘80s had long hair, used Aquanet and wore pastel spandex. If you don’t think it was that bad, look here.

While the hair metal craze conjures up images of pouffy-haired boys in pink spandex and such, the basic musical tenet of the genre –melodic hard rock – is an enduring rock ‘n’ roll staple. One example of hair band era melodic hard rock done right came courtesy of an unlikely source. Alice Cooper’s 1989 album Trash was Alice’s spin on the melodic hard rock/hair metal era, and it gained him mega-chart success for the first time since 1975's Welcome to My Nightmare went platinum. Alice had succumbed to alcohol and poorly-conceived albums for most of the 1980s. Trash was his comeback. He took his tongue-in-cheek sense of humor and theatrical persona and merged it with a series of finely crafted hard rock tunes, and the result was an album that peeked at 20 on the U.S. charts.

Alice enlisted songwriter and Bon Jovi producer Desmond Child and an all-star cast to record the album. Contributors included songwriter Diane Warren, Aerosmith, Joan Jett, Stiv Bators, Kane Roberts, Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, and of course, guitarist Guy-Mann Dude. In keeping with the spirit of the times, Alice temporarily abandoned horror schlock lyrics for soft-core sex and S and M, the required subjects of the day. Trash featured the power ballad Only My Heart Talkin' with Steve Tyler on guest vocals; the kinky S & M song Bed of Nails, co-written by Diane Warren; the title track (an ode to groupies at L.A.’s Cathouse)  and House of Fire, co-written by Joan Jett.

The hit single Poison had the obligatory video with Playboy Playmate type models, as did Bed of Nails. But since Alice was the narrator, the presentations had that hint of danger and malevolence to them. If Kix or Poison did the same video with the same models, it would simply be bad soft-core porn.

It was fun to see Alice on the MTV Music Awards in 1989, on the same stage with Guns and Roses and all the hard rock bands who had been influenced by his music. OK, so maybe Alice was just slumming with Trash, but he obviously had a good time doing it. Trash is just a footnote in Alice’s legacy, but it’s smirky, smutty fun. And it’s a good way for former ‘80s metal fans to pay homage to their Aquanet days without embarrassing themselves by digging out that old Warrant CD.

Film Review: Potiche

Potiche, a lighthearted farce based on a French play by Pierre Barillet and Jean-Pierre Grédy, stars Catherine Deneuve as trophy wife (“Potiche”) Suzanne Pujol. Set in 1977, the comedy touches upon the women’s rights issues of that era, albeit via a whimsical plotline. While her husband runs the local umbrella factory, Suzanne jogs around the estate, cleans the kitchen and longs for a more fulfilled life. Suzanne’s daughter Joëlle (Judith Godrèche) counsels her mother about the Women’s Lib movement and advises her to break away from her stifling routine.

When angry workers take Suzanne’s husband Robert (Fabrice Luchini) hostage during a strike, it’s up to Suzanne, whose father once owned the factory, to negotiate with them. Her initial hesitancy fades, and she finds that she has business skills – and a strong yet likable personality that wins over the workers. Even Robert’s saucy secretary/mistress Nadège (Karin Viard) eventually takes Suzanne’s side in this umbrella factory battle of the sexes.

While negotiating with the workers, Suzanne encounters union advocate Maurice Babin (Gérard Depardieu), an ex-lover who may be the father of one of her children. Suzanne and Maurice had one brief tryst some twenty years before, but both of them remember it fondly. It’s a treat to see Deneuve and Depardieu emoting together. Whether they’re bantering back and forth about politics or dancing in a nightclub, the chemistry is still there. Watching them together is like seeing college friends reunite decades later; they may be a bit older and heavier than their glory days, but they still have that je ne sais quoi.  

Director François Ozon (he worked with Deneuve before on “8 Women”), brings out the frothy best in his source material. Robert Pujol gets his comeuppance and becomes a “trophy husband” by the end of the film. Suzanne’s outspoken liberal daughter and ambiguously gay son Laurent (Jérémie Rénier) are fun 1970s clichés. Suzanne hires Laurent as the company’s umbrella designer at one point, and Joëlle is her mother’s main cheerleader and tough-as-nails business advisor. And the fashions are a spot-on trip through the best (or worst, depending on your point of view) of 1970s fashion. Joëlle’s Farrah Fawcett hairstyles, Laurent’s pullover sweaters and the over-sized eyeglasses sported by some of the characters lend a cheesy and authentic charm to the film. While Potiche is a comedy and not a musical, it does end on a tuneful note, with Deneuve singing an upbeat number at a political rally.

Official Site

 

CD Review: Dirty Eyes: Deadbeat Blues

Dirty Eyes are among the handful of punk, glam-rock and garage rock bands bringing adrenaline-pumping sounds back to L.A. music clubs. Dirty Eyes have covered a lot of ground since forming in L.A. in 2006.  They’ve played shows with dozens of national acts and local movers and shakers including the Joneses, Zeroes, Nikki Corvette, Billy Bones and the Crazy Squeeze. They've played a live set at KXLU and  joined last month’s tribute to Johnny Thunders at the Redwood Bar. Their music is a combination of the Dead Boys, the Ramones and Chuck Berry with a bit of  blues-rock thrown in for good measure.  It’s rock and roll with no frills, tricks or whining. The band consists of Donny Rox on vocals and guitars, Anthony Stasi on lead guitar, John on vocals and drums and Jareth on bass and vocals.

The band’s first full-length CD, Deadbeat Blues, is now available for download from iTunes, TuneCore and Amazon. And, of course, you can still purchase the old-fashioned physical CD from the band at one of their gigs. Patrick "Frenchie" French of the Joneses plays harmonica on the album and the rollicking piano is courtesy of Alex Galvan. Deadbeat Blues was produced by Arthur Alexander of  powerpop band Sorrows, who will play gigs in LA, New York and Europe later this year.

The CD’s title song, Deadbeat Blues chugs along with the rhythm section leading the way – there’s some great drumming on this one. The tune is like an indefatigable locomotive ride complete with tasty guitar solo. Takin’ A Dive is short and to the point rock, with snarly, attitude-laden vocals. Honky-tonk piano punctuates the similarly pithy Self-Destructive Man.  Ain’t Nothin' To Do channels the Dead Boys, while Yellow Fever combines  blues, Jerry Lee Lewis and ‘70s era Aerosmith hard rock. Skin of Yer Teeth combines all the band’s influences in one rapid-fire package that would satisfy any audience that likes sleazy, hard-edged rock ‘n’ roll. 

Deadbeat Blues combines hardcore punk and hard rock, but the vocals are punk all the way. Dirty Eyes’ music will appeal to punk rockers more so than metal fans; it’s just got that speedy, snarly vibe, but anybody who appreciates essential rock n roll will get it.

First Reality Show Expo Fails to Reel in Fans

 Kynt & Vyxsin from The Amazing Race 12

The first Reality Rocks reality show expo came and went with a whimper at L.A.’s Convention Center on April 9 and 10. I'm not a fan of reality shows, to say the least, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to check out the expo. After all, this form of entertainment has taken over the TV airwaves for the last decade. There must be something to it, right? Eeer...maybe not. When I visited Reality Rocks on Sunday the 10th at 11 a.m there were more cameramen and reporters on the show floor than paying attendees. There wasn’t much action at all on the ground floor.  Cast members from Storage Wars and the Antiques Roadshow discussed turning knowledge of collectibles into a reality show career as a small group of convention-goers listened. Elsewhere on the first floor, Hot Topic Goths Kynt and Vyxsin from The Amazing Race added a bit of rock 'n' roll style with lots of mascara and neon pink.

The scene was a bit livelier upstairs where workshops and screenings convened. How to Become a Host/Reality Star – Parlay Your 15 Minutes of  Fame into a Career  featured a panel of  lesser-known reality starlets discussing branding and how to keep your name in front of the public. The participants reinforced the notion of constant self-promotion and reinvention. The young reality show girls on the panel  had a lot in common -- they all sported slight variations of the same hairstyle, makeup, clothing, attitude, and speaking voice. As they walked past, I thought, 'They just look like the girls who work at Claire’s Boutique in the mall.’  But that’s the whole point of reality shows – anyone can be famous. Maybe that's the reason the genre keeps going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.  It provides the easiest opportunity yet for people to be famous, with or without talent.

With many of these shows, the “talent” seems to be simply existing—being “you”, albeit a caricatured version of “you.” Paris Hilton and the Kardashians have been in the spotlight for years without any old-school talent and it doesn’t look like they’ll develop any (or leave the media circus) soon.

Other panels included The Power of the Internet, which featured the host and creator of Yahoo’s Daytime in No Time recaps. I never realized the show was sponsored by J.C. Penney’s, and that all the clothing worn by the host and the set furniture was provided by the retailer til  I attended this panel. Integrating YouTube, Internet webisodes and other online video to pitch products in a seamless blend of entertainment and advertising is a hot marketing trend right now. It was also mentioned in the workshop, Brand Yourself: Using Social Media to Advance Your Career in Reality TV. This panel was standing room only and provided the liveliest discourse of the day. The verdict: YouTube is tops for aspiring reality stars and other publicity seekers. Constant Twittering is another essential.

 The last panel of the day was the best and the funniest. Playboy TV debuted TV for 2, which is geared towards couples. Celebrity Sex Tales, a new Playboy series, features C and D list celebs like Nicole Eggert and Corey Feldmen talking about sexual shenanigans while wacky cartoons illustrate their stories. (Judging by one of the clips, Corey Feldmen has borrowed one of Gene Simmons' toupees.)  Adrianne Curry of America’s Top Model and Surreal Life was on the panel and is one of the storytellers on Celebrity Sex Tales.  Curry is an example of a reality show performer who has created her own distinct persona --the sexy smartass. (She’s sort of a reality show-only version of Kathy Griffith). Ron Jeremy, appearing at the expo via his Surreal Life appearances, was in the audience for this one. The panel ended with a screening of a new series called The Stash. The program features host Rachel Perry making snarky comments about sex stories in the news and ridiculous porno clips. Apparently, there’s a big market out there for midget porn. Who knew?

The inaugural Reality Rocks Expo lacked star power and interesting performances. I’m sure fans would appreciate appearances from controversial divas like Tamra Barney or Gretchen Rossi of Real Housewives of Orange County in future incarnations of this event.  Stars from music-oriented shows like Rock Star SuperNova and VH-1’s tragically under-publicized Bands Reunited could spice up the performance stages.

Club Romper Stomper Brings Wild Rock 'N' Roll Back to the L.A. Club Scene

 From the Masque and other punk rock clubs in the late 1970s and early 1980s to the hair metal Sunset Strip scene , L.A. has always been home to many lively and influential music clubs. Some, like the Masque and Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco, have made it into rock history books while others are highlighted only in former patrons’ memories (and on their Facebook pages). The Los Angeles club scene circa 2011 may not have the flash and finesse of years past, but a handful of local musicians and promoters are striving to recharge the current L.A. club scene. Asia Muka, the creator of Hollywood’s Club Romper Stomper, is one of them.

A monthly celebration of the crème de la crème of the L.A. rock scene, Romper Stomper features true rock and roll bands that carry on the tradition of garage, mod, punk and glitter bands from the past. Romper Stomper performers have included the Ruby Friedman Orchestra, Vicky and the Vengents and the Woolly Bandits. Asia is devoted to introducing nitty-gritty rock and roll to a wider audience. “I want to do my part in spreading the message of inspiration through the power of music. I know that may sound a ‘lil hippie hippie shake,but it is something I feel strongly about… A few times when I was working with some 20 year olds, I made them a compilation CD. A wild mix of stuff from the 1920's up until the 70's punk era, including soul, mod, etc.  Anyway, these kids had no idea this music existed and were completely blown away.  It was truly a musical mind opener for them...and me!"

Romper Stomper made its debut in May 2010 at the Sunset Bar and Grill in Hollywood with headliners the Hitz out of West Covina. Says Asia, “I really liked their energy and wanted other people to know about them. I kind of took a huge gamble and did not book any other bands! I gave the whole night to The Hitz!  And promoted the hell out of the show (as i do every show).  I was really surprised that for a Friday night we had a great crowd!”

 

Legendary KROQ  DJ Rodney Bingenheimer  has co-hosted several Romper Stomper events, including a recent show with local glam faves Prima Donna and the female-fronted punk of Barb Wire Dolls (a band that recently relocated to L.A. from Greece.) Asia elaborates on her association with Rodney. ” I met Rodney when I was working on the Runaways movie. (Asia was a costumer for the film.)  I have always admired Rodney for taking a stand in the RNR world.  Once we became good friends, I talked him into letting me organize a night in honor of him,, including bands the he is currently playing on his show.  He does his show every Sunday at Midnight until 3am on KROQ. And that is a hard hour! But I think if more kids took Mondays off from school then they could be injected with some serious musical knowledge , something they may need as they are searching for direction in this chaotic world.”

 Romper Stomper shows have lots of visual and auditory stimulation above and beyond live bands. The club’s walls serve as a screen for clips of T-Rex and other glam and punk bands. There’s a dance floor full of 20something kids imitating the original Rodney’s English Disco vibe and a DJ spinning a mixture of garage, glam and punk tunes. “I try to create an "experience" when doing these shows, Asia notes, “and make it well known that it's perfectly okay to live the life you believe in.  There are a lot of things happening in L.A., you just have to search for them.  But when I can't find them I create them!

The next Club Romper Stomper is Friday April 8^th at the Sunset Bar and Grill with the Crazy Squeeze, Vicky and The Vengents and the Black Mambas.

A Confederacy Of Characters: My New Orleans Story

(This article first appeared on Rock Confidential.com in my column From Hollywood and Beyond shortly after Hurricane Katrina in 2005. It was written under my other byline, Marianne Moro.)


When people ask me what it was like when I lived in New Orleans, I say, “It was like running away to join the circus.” The New Orleans I knew had nothing to do with the working class, if indeed there were any working class in the city itself. I saw the very poor, the very rich and the colorful characters. It is difficult to understand why a city I lived in for nine months invokes more emotion and sparks more vivid memories than the first few years of my life in Los Angeles.

When I first visited New Orleans for a business conference in 1992, I fell in love with the place. I found myself avoiding seminars and exploring the city instead. I hugged a penguin named Elvis and feed a shark in the city’s aquarium. Stepping over the side of the shark tank in high heels was a bitch. If I tripped I’d be shark food. Sure, it was a small city, certainly not what I was used to after living in New York and Chicago, but there was something about it.

New Orleans had the feel of a laid-back European city. Its pace of life was practically a crawl, but its day-to-day business got done in a timely and efficient manner. I’d go to Vaughn’s in the Ninth Ward for rice and beans on Monday and saw Kermit Ruffins play there on Thursdays. Since I didn’t plan on staying for the long haul, I got a job as a clerk in a chain of souvenir shops. I’d work at the souvenir shop, listening to music and kibitzing with tourists all day, then hang out with friends at a bar or club at night. Yes, I was there because I wanted to avoid New York and responsibility for a little bit longer. Guilty as charged.

“New Orleans,” my Grandma would say, “that’s where people go when they have no place left to go.”
 I knew I was in another world when I called up the electric company to pay a bill and they said they were closing down early for Mardi Gras. Ya gotta love a place where even the utility companies shut down to party.

I lived in an apartment across from Armstrong Park. “Oh never go to the convenience store across the street,” the former tenant warned. "Always go to the one on the corner of Ursuline. You’ll live longer” I interviewed about a dozen prospective roommates. One was a muscular French guy riding a Harley.  I kid you not. (Girls, it was heaven.) Being sensible at heart, I decided on a doctor from LaPlatte who only used the apartment when he wanted to party in the Quarter. So I had a huge two-floor apartment with a fireplace and a spiral staircase for $300 month, and I split that amount with the doctor. I had very few possessions in that huge apartment, except for a borrowed bed and dresser, a boom box, and Christmas lights strung along the staircase banister. Someone had painted a lip print on the back door. I had a restaurant-style kitchen but never cooked, just brought home po’ boys from the French Grocery. My girlfriends in New York, bound by the rules and regulations of real life, lived vicariously through my phone calls. Example

“Hi it’s me.”
"Hi."
“Do you know what Brad Pitt looks like?”
“Oh God! You shagged a guy who looks like Brad Pitt.”
My year in New Orleans set me back five years financially.
I didn’t care then and I don’t regret it now.

I lived a punk rock “Confederacy Of Dunces” in New Orleans. (Yes, I have a book about it in the works Hope I don’t suffer the same fate as John Kennedy Toole!) You might say I was a thin, blonde female version of Ignatius.

I babysat a friend’s kids, who did among other things, offer to connect an illegal cable hook-up and tear the neighbor’s expensive crystal mobile from the cantilever balcony. They're probably in jail now, or close to it. I met their Mom at a restaurant called Mena’s on Canal Street at Iberville. She wore harlequin glasses, was raised in New York, and was my evil twin. We became friends and partners in crime, though the friendship ended with her knocking down my front door when she was drunk. We had fun, going to sleazy bars, eating, drinking and chasing guys. My friends were blackjack dealers, bartenders, waiters, strippers, sales clerks, and musicians. All of them came from somewhere else. I knew people who came to New Orleans to kick drugs. “Why?” I said, “So they can become alcoholics instead?”

I spent more time in bars than I did in my apartment. I frequented places like Café Brasil, Checkpoint Charlie’s, Molly’s, Coops, R Bar, and Dragon’s Den. I could go on and on. At the R Bar, they offered haircuts along with drinks one night a week. Checkpoint Charlie had a laundromat. And this is basically where I lived my life. I drank, but I didn’t get drunk very often. My most recurring memories are of the characters I met; the sense of life lived in the present. Some of the best advice I ever got in my life I got from an espresso machine salesman I met at the R Bar. “The clue to life," he said, "is to ingrain your goal in your mind and then forget it.” Its worked for me ever since. Everyone I met there was a bonafide character. The hyperactive French woman, the ex-con, the Harvard graduate/screenwriter, the high school teacher turned bagel maker. I watched brass bands at a club in the warehouse district, hung out at the library by Loyola Marymount and lingered in shops on Magazine Street

The celebrity population in the Crescent City swelled somewhat in those days. Trent Reznor, Marilyn Manson and Anne Rice lived in New Orleans in 1994. En Esch from KMDFM lived in the French Quarter, and Courtney Love almost bought a house there. The running joke was “Are you gonna go to Trent’s studio and find the  Piggy door from the Manson murders?” Rice, Reznor and Manson moved away long before disaster struck.

And then came Mardi Gras. The crowded streets were packed with pudgy Midwestern tourists, drunken locals, and Goth kids. Suicide Girls clones on balconies bared their breasts in exchange for cheap beads thrown by obnoxious frat boys. The streets were strewn with beads, plastic cups and fake doubloons thrown by “Krewe” members from their floats.  The first time I saw a white-masked Krewe on their float, all I could think was “They look like the Ku Klux Klan” (One night a friend and I were driving home from Metairie and we heard David Duke doing a radio talk show, so the racist element still exists in the Deep South.)  On Mardi Gras night one of the other souvenir shop sales clerks and I confiscated a bottle of cognac and celebrated. Then we slipped off to the main store through the wall-to-wall crowd on Bourbon Street with the day’s cash bounty stuck in envelopes tucked in our jeans. There were no armored trucks to pick up the cash here. Of course that night, no kids with guns hovered around the store.

The second or third week I lived in New Orleans, some new friends and I were going to Tipitina’s and they decided to take a detour. Hmm, I thought, glancing at the street signs, this is supposed to be a bad section of town. I’d read the warnings in a travel guidebook, but I figured, “Well, those folks live here. They would know for sure if a neighborhood were dangerous. WRONG! So we stop at a gas station and walk up to the cashier to get gum. I noticed a kid in a sweatshirt facing the booth. “What the hell is this guy doing?” I thought. I found out a second later when we had a gun pointed at our heads. The second time I got mugged I had the audacity to go to the grocery store at six-thirty at night.  A ten-year-old kid followed me on a bicycle, and then held me up at gunpoint. He got seven dollars, a lipstick, and a collection notice from the phone company. Kids would try to lure me away from the cash register at the stores where I worked, with their friends waiting outside to steal money and merchandise if I walked away from my post. I think I’ll stop there. It’s getting monotonous. New Orleans had 421 murders, the most in any U.S. city, in 1994, the year I moved there.  While the number had plummeted in recent years, it crept up in the months before Hurricane Katrina.

When New Orleans is rebuilt, I imagine the French Quarter and the Garden will be the same architecturally. Will Wal-mart and Toys R Us replace small, unique businesses in those quaint old buildings? Will the rest of the city become Las Vegas Jr. and suburbia USA? One thing is virtually certain. Crime can’t be any worse in the “new and improved” New Orleans than in the old one.

During a return visit to New Orleans, I saw a woman who still worked for the chain of souvenir shops. After I told her about the muggings, she asked, “Well, why did you stay so long after that? It was a boyfriend, right? Who was he?”

“Well, there were a couple of ‘em,” I answered sheepishly.

 Once I was safely ensconced back in New York reality, I had lunch with one of my friends, a classy, older woman, in a Manhattan bistro. “Do you have any pictures the people you met there?” she asked, after listening to my stories. “No,” I giggled, unable to resist a joke “but you might find some on posters in the post office!”

 I finally left when I couldn’t take the combination of a pointless retail job, endless Peyton Place type romantic scenarios, intermittent muggings and the lack of, well, accomplishment. One of my friends, a banquet waiter, said, “When are you going to leave? You have work to do. You don’t belong here.” I knew he was right. “Well, you wanted an adventure,” my Grandma said when I arrived back home “And you got one.” For me, New Orleans was a playground, but for others it was and is their home. They can rebuild all they want, but the spirit must remain the same for it to truly be New Orleans. We’ve seen horrific images on TV the past few weeks. Hundreds of body bags being carried out of flooded buildings, and the mass destruction of a major American city and personal loss of unimaginable magnitude. This isn’t the end of the story, though. Now we get to hear the usual political bickering, finger pointing, and the brouhaha over contracts to rebuild the city. Mardi Gras in the middle of that just not is the same. But diehard New Orleanians, whether they are quirky French Quarter types or lifelong residents, will surely give it their best try.

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For current local New Orleans information, go to:

www.nola.com

DVD Review: The Stitches Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003

DVD Review:

The Stitches

Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003

(Vinyl Dog)

Some information just endears the uninitiated to a band even if they know nothing about the group members or their music. Take, for example, the time I mentioned to a friend, “The Stitches, this punk band I like, once played a show in the parking lot of a Der Weinerschnitzel in Orange County. "Now they sound like my kinda guys," she responded, “I bet that was fun! I wish I'd been there."

The aforementioned concert, The Stitches : Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003, airborne chili dogs and all, is now available on DVD from the band's website.

The Stitches formed in 1994 in Orange County and  unique brand was one of the mainstays of the thriving skatepunk scene in 1990s Orange County. The band consists of singer Mike Lohrman, guitarist Johnny Witmer, bass player Pete Archer and drummer Craig “Skibs” Barker. The Stitches have been around since 1994, releasing several singles and EPs , two full-length albums (less is more!), and playing gigs for their loyal following around SoCal, along with occasional U.S. and European tours. The band’s live shows tend towards bona-fide punk rowdiness, with mosh pits, stage diving and the obligatory fight between audience members.

The DVD menu page is, appropriately enough, a Der Weinerschnitzel drive - through menu.  You can choose to view either concert only or the show footage with highlights of the crowd in the parking lot, which includes a kid with an elaborate green Mohawk and a Mom with little punk outfitted tots. The show footage begins with singer Mike Lohrman walks out with a Der Weinerschnitzel bag over his head. (Shades of the Unknown Comic?) After his intro, the bag disappears, and the band veers into a lighting-fast set. Then the chili dogs start flying - from the crowd onto the band and vice versa. It's not an ongoing barrage, but just enough for things to get a bit messy.  The show clocks in at 28 minutes and 43 seconds, including encores. But the Stitches put out more energy in that short set than some bands that play twice as long. The band segues through Cars of Today, Electroshock Carol, Pick Me Up and other songs from their second album, 12 Imaginary Inches and crowd favorites like My Baby Hates Me and a cover of That Woman’s Got Me Drinking, the Shane MacGowan and the Popes classic, from the manic debut 8 X 12. This is one of the Stitches best shows, and that's saying something cause they are all pretty damn good.

The "home-style" video footage really gives the viewer a sense of “being there.” Cameras need to go out of focus occasionally to get that feeling of being in the pit or at least near it. You need jittery close-ups of the cups on the ground and a close-up of the street sign hanging from the light pole. This slice-of-life approach really works for such a fun event.  

I also like how the camera from behind and focuses on the kids as much as the band. This typifies another interesting SoCal trait, where you find a lot of young kids with old-school punk Mohawks. Now you know their parents probably spent time at the Masque (or lesser known punk clubs) and helped give them fashion pointers.

Dreams and Shadows: A Film Review and an Interview with Director Tamarat Makonnen

Dreams and Shadows is a promising directional debut from Tamarat Makonnen. The movie is half-psychological drama, half-suspense thriller. It tells the story of an alienated teenage boy, Billy (played by Shawn-Caulin-Young) who works at a fast-food joint to support his paraplegic veteran father John (played by James Russo). Billy’s life is absolutely joyless. He’s bullied by local kids on his way from work and comes home to deal with his alcoholic, moody Dad. He entertains action fantasies about Samurais while alone in his bedroom to relieve his boredom with everyday life.  He has a girlfriend, Sarah (Natalie Garcia Fryman), a foster child with problems of her own. She is his only real-life friend, and they both dream of a way out of their dreary existence.

Billy strives to find out more about his mother, who died when he was quite young and banters back and forth emotionally with his Dad. Russo turns in a strong performance as the troubled Dad who camouflages a shocking secret. His character is at turns caring, irresponsible, violent and deceitful. One of his scenes with a prostitute who’s put-off by a sudden display of tenderness is especially heartbreaking.

The highlights of the film take place during the first half, where we get a sense of the characters backstory and Billy’s desire to change his life. Although the set-up is somewhat slow, it piques the viewer’s curiosity. We want to know more about what’s happened to John and how his wife died.

We get answers to these questions when the film veers from psychological drama into suspense thriller in the second half. This change in cinematic mood jolts the viewer into what seems like an entirely different film. It’s not a bad "second half", per se, it just doesn’t mesh well with the first part of Dreams and Shadows. As Billy learns about his Dad’s secret life and sets out for revenge, the film resembles a TV detective drama with a lot of twists and turns and characters who ultimately turn out to be more Mr. Hyde than Dr. Jekyll.

Makonnen’s script shows a keen knowledge of dialogue and character development until the revenge scenarios kick in. Even the pulp novel/detective drama portion of the film is well-paced and well-acted, though incongruous with the first half of Dreams and Shadows. Makonnen’s feature film debut shows a lot of potential. He is obviously a serious student of cinema and it’s apparent in this uneven but emotionally riveting film.

Interview with Dreams and Shadows Writer/Producer/Director Tamarat Makonnen

 JB- What is your film background?

TM- Well after attending Virginia Union University I went back home to New York where I cut my teeth working on all kinds of film projects. Commercials, features, documentaries everything. Picking the brains of any and everyone on set that would lend me an ear. I was a human sponge. Eventually I saved enough to buy a 16mm camera and began shooting short films. This was in the 90s so digital wasn't an option (laughter). 

JB- I read in your bio that you directed music videos before making Dreams and Shadows. What videos did you direct?

TM- I've directed videos for dead prez "Mind Sex", Boogiemonsters "The Beginning of the End" and most recently L.E.G.S "Journeyman". I've also directed videos and EPKs for artists like Luke, Lil Kim, C-Bo, Stone Rivers and Neyo, plus a few others.

JB-How did this serve as a springboard to making a feature film?

When possible I enjoyed incorporating narratives into the music videos that I directed. In that way the music video essentially becomes a short film. Also at the time labels were putting a significant amount of money into music videos. So in some cases you would have the same amount of equipment and crew members working on your video set as you would if you were shooting a feature film. It was great practice for what was to come.

JB- What inspired the screenplay for Dreams and Shadows?

TM-After moving to Los Angeles I began to focus more on my writing and Dreams and Shadows was one of those projects that had been lingering in my head for a while. When I started to write the script I knew I wanted to create characters that would haunt you later. Russo's character being confined to a wheelchair while his addictions and dark secrets tortured him was an intriguing premise to me.

As for the Billy character he's an outcast. Everyone knows an outcast. Their usually misunderstood for being different. I knew that the combination of the destructive father figure and the fragile son who's standing at a proverbial cliff would create an interesting scenario. Ultimately I wanted to create a claustrophobic existence for the audience to peer into. Sort of like looking into a snow globe filled with dirt and grime. You want to see the characters break the glass.

JB-What was the hardest scene to shoot (either technically or emotionally)?

TM- Technically the dream sequences where pretty challenging because of the elements. We shot those on a private ranch in Agua Dulce near Santa Clarita, California. It was about 100 degrees and steadicam operator was carrying the camera rig on him in this blistering weather in the middle of the forest. There was a lot of stop and go shooting because we wanted to make sure he stayed hydrated. It was tough but it all worked out.

Emotionally the scene where Billy returns home from his twisted revenge mission and he's crying in his dad's arms was intense. The actor Shawn-Caulin Young really took his time getting prepared for the scene and when we began shooting he just exploded. It was one take. He was totally exhausted afterward.

JB- Can you tell me about the casting process? How did you find the film’s stars, James Russo and Shawn-Caulin Young?

When Shawn walked in I didn't think he was right for the role physically but after his audition I began to look at him from a different angle. He brought an awkwardness and vulnerability to the character that was necessary. He's a talented actor and I'm sure you'll be seeing more of him in the future.

Russo is a veteran, the guy has worked opposite Robert De Niro. I heard through our casting director Neely Gurman that he was interested in the project so we set up a meeting. We had lunch and talked about the script, the character and what I was looking for from the actor who would play the part. He's a very passionate person and so am I so it worked out well.

JB-Are you working on any new film projects?

TM- I have another feature that I'm developing as well as a documentary that I will be directing this year.

JB- What films and directors have influenced you and why?

TM- Wow, it's so vast. Everything from Federico Fellini's "La Dolce Vita" to Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" to the Shaw Brothers' films. I'm big fan of the fantasy/action genres of the late 70s and 80s, Star Wars, Raiders of the Lost Ark, ET, etc. ... I truly believe that Lucas and Spielberg sparked the imaginations of an entire generation with those films. In recent years foreign films like Fernando Meirelles' "City of God" and the Swedish vampire film "Let the Right One In" really inspired me as well.

 

Book Review: Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla by Cherry Vanilla

Although not as well-known as her more mainstream contemporaries Pamela Des Barres and Cynthia Plaster Caster, Cherry Vanilla (born Kathleen Anne Dorritie) was arguably the most brazen and the most cerebral groupie of the swinging late ‘60s/’70s. Based on her chapter in Pamela Des Barres’ groupie round-up, Let’s Spend The Night Together, Chicago Review Press offered Cherry her own book contract and the result is Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla (by Way of the Copacabana, Madison Avenue, the Fillmore East, Andy Warhol, David Bowie and the Police) This raunchy and refreshingly honest memoir takes readers on a wild ride through two decades of hedonistic New York, from hippie happenings in Central Park to the punk clubs of Manhattan.

Groupie, though, was only part of Cherry’s job description. She worked for a Madison Avenue ad agency while barely out of high school, traveling the country on business trips as one of the first female radio/TV ad execs in the business. Folks in the real-life “Mad Men” days were every bit as horny and adventurous as rock stars, according to Cherry’s accounts of LSD use and “whipped cream parties” at Fire Island getaways.

It wasn’t long before Cherry took advantage of the burgeoning Lower Manhattan club scene, working as a DJ and mingling with models, actors, royalty and the Andy Warhol crowd. She starred in Warhol’s play Pork, appearing nude onstage in the British production. In between acting and DJing, she had flings with musicians Leon Russell, Kris Kristofferson, Burton Cummings of the Guess Who, and Shawn Phillips, who wrote two songs about her. Cherry’s most famous conquest, though, was David Bowie.

As his publicist and a major behind the scenes presence at MainMan Productions, the infamous glam-rock artist management company, she was instrumental in bringing Bowie and his music to the States. She was friends and business associates with him, first and foremost. However, when he finally suggested, “Come on, let’s go to bed,” Cherry followed through, despite having bandages on her thighs to cover carbuncles from bug bites. A potentially embarrassing situation became a fun, romantic romp.

Cherry in 2010

Cherry was Bowie’s PR person til MainMan was disbanded in 1974. Undaunted, Cherry entered the next phase of her career-as a solo artist for RCA records. She toured England with then unknown back-up musicians - Stewart Copeland and Sting - from a band called the Police. Her outrageous stage persona garnered her some scathing reviews in England, but her two albums, Bad Girl and Venus d’ Vinyl, have retained a cult following to this day. After she was dropped from RCA Records, Cherry hit hard times, and was even homeless for awhile. Now she lives in Hollywood and works for the composer Vangelis, still feisty as ever at 67.

Cherry Vanilla’s exploits are fun-and somewhat exhausting (in a good way) to read. Was there anything this woman didn’t do? Groupie, poet, publicist, journalist, fashion icon, Warhol protégé and actress, ad agency exec and sexual provocateur, it’s surprising that Cherry Vanilla’s story fits into a mere 288-page book! The memoir isn’t all fun and titillation, however, as Cherry frankly discusses her battles with OCD, near disasters with bad drugs and bad men (including one harrowing encounter with a creepy sadist), abortions and sexual addiction.

Lick Me is a rollicking visit back to the days when the whole creative “counterculture” seemed to coalesce into a few miles in Manhattan (and London). It’s a great memory-jogger for kids who came of age reading Creem and watching the 1980 Floor Show on the Midnight Special.

Cherry Vanilla Official Website

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/books/article/book-review-lick-me-how-i/#ixzz1D98ZX4YC

Music Review: Baby Scream: Self-Titled CD

The self-titled CD by Argentine rockers Baby Scream takes clean power pop and classic rock, then adapts a John Lennon vocal style and binds them together with top-notch production. This CD is Baby Scream’s ninth album since 2002. (The band has existed in one form or another since 2001.) Baby Scream is one band that will certainly never run short on inspiration.

Baby Scream is the brainchild of vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Juan Pablo Mazzola. His brand of Beatles met Cheap Trick pop traverses genres for a sound that defies typecasting. On Jekyll & Hyde, Mazzola channels Strawberry Fields Forever, with just the slightest hint of prog/space rock added in to complete the trippy vibe. The lilting The Ghosts of Valerie (with guest guitarist Eric Dover from Alice Cooper’s band) sounds like a 1980s “skinny tie” band hit filtered through a 1960s one-hit soft psychedelic sound – think of the Peppermint Rainbow’s Are You Staying After Sunday?

Nipone, the lullaby that ends the album, has a Japanese-influenced sound that becomes as haunting as it is gorgeous as the song progresses.  Exile has a Revolver feel with especially dreamy vocals.  

Watching the End of the World (On TV) shares a kinship with Bowie's Five Years ,but after a mellow start, the song revs up to high gear, chugging along like a finely-tuned machine. Along with vocalist/guitarist Mazzola, the band consists of lead guitarist Hernán Pascual, bass player Raul Marcos, and drummer Claudio Salas. 

Baby Scream has a trippy psychedelic vibe -- call it acoustic psych/power pop, if you really need to label it. The acoustic guitar sound on this CD has a ballsy passion you won’t find in any music with the partial description “folk” The ten songs on Baby Scream have a timeless sound that could fit in with rock music playlists from the ‘60s, ‘70s or early ‘80s.

CD Review: Sci-Fi Romance: ...and surrender my body to the flames

Los Angeles based singer-songwriter Vance Kotrla is a man of many talents. He once played drums for death metal band Black Spiral and formed his own production company, Broken Image Entertainment, shortly after graduating from high school. Now he has turned his attention to music, releasing a solo CD, ..and surrender my body to the flames, under the moniker Sci-fi Romance. The name was inspired by a review of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which described the film as a “sci-fi romance.”

…and surrender my body to the flames has already placed on a Best of 2010 list from a Dutch music blog. Even a cursory listen to the eleven tracks on the CD (also available via digital download on Bandcamp), will help you understand why this debut effort received such an accolade. The songs explore themes of love and loss with a sound that can best be described as “alt-folk.” The lyrics, which appear on the Windows Media Player screen as you listen to each track, have a melancholy literary bent to them. It’s somber Nick Cave meets Joseph Heller with a screening of Metropolis in the background. Fittingly, Kotrla has complied public domain footage from science-fiction films to accompany the songs on …and surrender my body. You can watch the videos on his YouTube channel or the Sci-fi Romance website.

Frankenstein’s Lament, with its haunting female background vocals and sparse acoustic guitar, is told from Dr. Frankenstein’s point of view as the angry villagers rebel against his creation. These Scars, combines a love song about emotional pain and a sci-fi tale of impending death. Kotrla channels a bit of Type O-Negative here, that is, if Type-O had a more intellectual approach to their lyrics. The wistful Long Gone looks back at youthful mistakes, while In the Dark Together conjures up visions of two young lovers on the road in a desert town, vowing to stick together no matter what fate bestows upon them.

…and surrender my body to the flames is an unusual combination of poetic lyrics and old-school science fiction imagery. Vance Kotrla’s main strength here lies in his words, and the mostly acoustic music serves as a conveyance to reveal the emotions and storyline.

Sci-Fi Romance Facebook Page

CD Review:EZ Tiger

EZ Tiger, a three-piece alt rock band from L.A.,. features singer/guitarist Tina DiGeorge, bass player Anna Rosales and drummer Kristy McGinnis. On their self-titled debut CD, this trio creates a sound that’s more pop/rock than indie hipster. Some of the songs,  like the haunting Any Other Day and Stay, a lovely pop ballad that would definitely earn the term “radio-friendly” in the days when radio actually played good music,. remind me of hit tunes from  many late  90s pop/rock bands Groups like Everclear, Dishwalla and  Del Amitri produced  catchy songs that were just “right” – they weren’t entirely light rock, but not really alternative either. EZ Tiger’s music has this same template. Their songs have clear melodies, concise lyrics that can appeal to a wide range of listeners without seeming too diluted, and strong, appealing vocals That’s not hard to fathom when you find our EZ Tiger was produced by Brian Wilson’s keyboardist Scott Bennett..  The songs ring through flawlessly, with an even-handed mix that doesn’t favor any aspect of the material over another.

Don’t let the Dishwalla reference make you think EZ Tiger doesn’t offer some outright, in-your-face rock. The best song on the CD, Dancing for Dimes, has a menacing punk rhythm and a tasty guitar outro by DiGeorge.  It demonstrates that EZ Tiger can turn up the heat and channel the Buzzcocks as convincingly as they can perform sweeter, more introspective  material. Last One In has a wonderful, danceable energy to it with a bit of a ‘60s Mod vibe.

EZ Tiger is a pleasant surprise. Their songs aren’t tied to any one genre or fad – they stand on their own. The band plays at the Redwood Bar in downtown L.A. on February 13^th..

Music Review: Sorrows - Bad Times Good Times

After the demise of the Beatles-influenced Poppees in 1976, the band’s guitar player Arthur Alexander and drummer Jett Harris formed a new band, Sorrows (just “Sorrows, no “the”) , which ratcheted the Poppees sound up to 11 by adding a power pop feel and a tougher guitar riffs. The new band featured Alexander on vocals and guitar, Harris on drums, Joey Cola on guitar and vocals, and Ricky Street on bass and vocals. They were signed to CBS/Pavilion Records in 1979, near the height of power pop mania.

Sorrows music is fun guitar pop with an edge, totally in kinship with other power pop bands  like The Beat and 20/20, but they have more of a rock edge ala the Flamin Groovies. As far as music biz lore goes, Sorrows have a lot more in common with early power pop brethren Blue Ash. Both bands were undervalued by their record company and dropped from the label after their second album.

Luckily, in 2010, artists don’t need to depend on nearsighted record executives to market their music to the masses. Keep in mind, Bad Times Good Times consists of previously unreleased songs, not a repackaging of their CBS albums. When the band broke up, vinyl copies of Teenage Heartbreak and Love Too Late became collectors’ items, as CBS never released the albums as CDs. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Armed with original demos and some unreleased tracks (some of them saved from a dumpster outside NYC’s MediaSound Studios). Alexander went into a L.A. studio and reworked the songs. Bad Times Good Times (Bomp Records), a collection of 14 studio songs and two live tunes, was the result.

The title track kicks off the album with a raucous guitar, followed by the foot-tappin, power pop melody of Can’t You Tell a Lie. The song has a layer of hard-edged, twangy guitar underneath. This effortless combination of power pop, pure rock ‘n’ roll guitar and punk attitude fused together gives Sorrows music a raunchy edge many skinny tie bands lacked, and it’s evident throughout the CD. Can’t Go Back shakes and bakes crystal-clear harmonies with jangly guitar and infectious melody. The frenetic rockabilly of That’s Your Problem quickens the pace. She Comes and Goes , the lone “slow” ballad (well except for a soaring, arena rock worthy bridge) is, about a melancholy lost girl who lives to go to rock shows A cello interlude by Jisoo Ok adds a lovely touch to the proceedings.

In the liner notes Barry Dreyfus describes one of the band’s sets at CBGB’s as a “total sonic assault.” The two live songs on Bad Times, Good Times verify that. A cover of the Stones "Off The Hook" adapts a rockabilly twang at the start and veers into straight-out rock. Carole King’s "Chains" becomes a ballsy, cathartic rocker.

Alexander has said that Sorrows’ music is like “Abba meets the Sex Pistols”. That concept may first strike you as an oxymoron, but when you hear Bad Times Good Times, you’ll realize it’s absolutely plausible, and it makes for some boisterous - and timeless - power pop songs.