Last Shadow Puppets, Mayan Theater, Los Angeles, CA

Why hello everyone! Now that the rush of the election is over we can finally get on to our regular lives. You know, watching television and wondering how you’re going to break it to your family that there will be no Christmas gift exchanging this year because your bank account is so empty there’s tumble weeds blowing through it. I’ll have you know that I tried to get a proposition added to the ballot this year but Proposition 83: Give Moe All Your Money was shot down faster than a 9 point buck in hunting season.

I was fairly happy with the results of the election though my enthusiasm was a bit subdued due to the tiredness I was experiencing from 4 nights of absolutely no sleep. From Halloween night to Monday night’s show in LA (which, dear reader, I will get to shortly) I was running full throttle. There really wasn’t much time for sleep and by the third day the old hurling mantra, “You can sleep when you’re dead” was on a constant loop in my brain like a personal trainer you want to punch out. These last four nights have brought back some memories of my Milwaukee Hurling days when the week started with Monday night tacos at the Landmark and didn’t end until Sunday night’s Round Robin location, bloodied and bruised from the field but feeling fantastic. Sleep was merely a hassle forgotten and I seriously thought at the time that I might just be 25 forever. It amazes me that I held down two jobs during the same time frame (one professional, one bartending) and I did very well at both of them.

I am obviously not 25 anymore.

As most of you know, Kevin and I tend to hang out at the Harp in Costa Mesa. The Harp is a bit of a Succubus in by the fact that it has (at least since I’ve been going there) some sort of draw to expatriates. Many of the regular clientele are from the UK and they tend to form a pretty tight knit group. One of these groups, or an off shoot of the conglomerate group, often goes to concerts in during the week. A lot of Fridays Kevin and I will go in and they will be talking about the great show they saw on the previous Monday or Tuesday. “Blah blah blah saw the Subways….” “blah blah blah Tokyo Police Club blah blah blah…” “Blah blah blah” (This is the point where you substitute ‘blah blah blah’ for English slang which I won’t even attempt due to the fact that I would get blasted for it’s inaccuracies by the very people I’m trying to mimic.) Every time I heard about one of these great shows I would feel a twinge of envy and inside whine to myself, “but I would have wanted to gooooooo.” Thankfully I didn’t outside whine or else I would have never been invited. Well, sort of invited.

As mentioned previously, I’m on Facebook. After the pub quiz a couple weeks ago, Dave and Andy had agreed to be my Facebook friends. Dave and Andy are two of the blokes (ha! I’m leaving it!) who go to the weekday concerts. When Andy posted on Facebook a few weeks back that he was going to see the Kaiser Chiefs in LA in November, I commented back “I want to go!” While this was sort of an outside whine, there were less ‘O’s in ‘go’ so therefore not as whiney. Anyhow, Andy talked to Dave and all of a sudden Kevin and I had successfully invited ourselves along. Since we were going to that show, we were properly invited to attend the Last Shadow Puppets a week earlier. Hurray!

Usually at this point of an entry and I usually tell you how awesome and great my such and such friend(s) are. While I do think Dave and Andy (and Fergie!) are awesome and great, I’m not going to tell you about it because they are British and will get big heads about it. You can’t go around having a Brit with a big head. They are apt to stick a flag in you and call you property of the Queen.

So yes! The Last Shadow Puppets! I’m a big fan of the Arctic Monkeys so when I had heard that one of its members formed a side project, I immediately bought the album. While the Last Shadow Puppets is distinctly different from the Arctic Monkeys, they are still incredibly good. Think over the top 70’s rock with a string section and an alternative twist and you might just have described them. Maybe.

The night before the show, I had gotten at best 4 hours of sleep. I was suppose to be the designated driver but seeing as I could hardly stand straight dead sober, it was agreed that Kevin would be doing the driving in my car. He’s such a champ. We met Andy, Dave and Fergie at the Harp around 6:30 PM and proceeded to drive up to LA. Now my car is a Nissan Sentra and doesn’t have a large backseat area. I was the shortest person by at least 3 inches but that didn’t stop me from calling ‘Shotgun’; it was my car after all. So now its Kevin driving, me in the passenger seat, and 3 long legged Brits crammed into the tiny backseat bench of my car. I can’t be the only one who thinks that sounds like the beginning of a joke. For the entire 45 minute drive Kevin and I said practically nothing while we listened to the barrage of shouting from the backseat.

“FASTER! FASTER! DRIVE FASTER!”

“Get your arse off me!”

“Can you please just put the iPod on random?”

(Over any small bump a thump is heard which is the result of Dave hitting his head on the ‘oh shit’ handle on the ceiling) “OW! OW! OW!”

“FASTER! DRIVE FASTER!”

“Oh, you should have merged over there mate.”

“FAST! FAST! FAST! DRIVE FAST!”

When we got to the Mayan, the 5 of us jumped out as though the Sentra was on fire. I was still giggling though.

The Mayan Theatre is in a very sad desolate area of downtown Los Angeles. Not much happens in the evening in downtown LA, very much a work there and get the hell out kind of vibe. The Mayan though, was pretty impressive. It was dark and ancient ruin-y. I read reviews online that slam the Mayan for its salsa nights, but since we weren’t here for salsa it really didn’t matter. They have three levels with a bar on each one. We settled up to the 2nd level bar, had a couple rounds of $7 Heinekens and waited for the show to begin.

Kevin, Fergie, and Andy

Unlike the Wombats where the wait to actually see the Wombats seemed like a time vortex of wasted time, the wait to see the Shadow Puppets was incredibly quick. Or so it seemed. I was having a really good chat with Fergie about restaurants and we also met this girl who got into the Last Shadow Puppets the same way I did. I wish I remembered her name, but I’m crap, so sorry nice lady at the bar who also thinks Alex Turner is hot but way too young for us.

Opening Act

When the show did begin we moved out to the main floor at the lower level. Since I’m shit at describing the actual show, I’ll just give you pictures.




As a matter of fact, that is a full stringed orchestra behind them.


I personally thought the show was excellent. They were fantastic. My only complaint was that it wasn’t long enough. Then again, I was having such a good time that it may have accelerated the time vortex.


The ride home was a lot more mellow, what with Fergie fast asleep, Dave consulting his iPhone for driving instructions and Andy in the “OW” seat but avoiding it by sticking his head out the window claiming to finally understand why dogs enjoy it so much.

Dave's iPhone (and the only photo that turned out that had Dave in it) and a sleeping Fergie.

Next week the Kaiser Chiefs!

Hmm…and I wonder where my money has run off to…

The Wombats: Los Angeles, CA

This post is dedicated to Dori who is quite possibly the hippest girl I know (though Am. Dave would say “hep”) and who insisted I give her a full report on the show.

MOE: (Addressing a large room of people) Hello everyone.

PEOPLE IN ROOM: Hi there.

MOE: (shifting uncomfortably) My name is Moe, and I’m…I’m a music whore.
PEOPLE IN ROOM: (Nodding knowingly)

MOE: I’m not sure how I got to where I am now. Pimping myself for music. I never used to be this bad.

LARGE WOMAN IN ROOM: Amen sister.

MOE: It started about 6 months ago. I was innocently browsing through my iTunes when I realized there wasn’t anything there I wanted to listen to. I went to the iTunes Store but I drew a blank on what to get. Their ‘Top Songs’ and popular downloads were awful. What people listen to in this country is appalling at times…

LARGE WOMAN IN ROOM: HALLELUIAH!

MOE: …I had already infiltrated Kevin’s CD collection years ago…

MULTIPLE PEOPLE IN ROOM: (whisper) I’ve done that. Have you done that? It’s so sad…

MOE: …the radio stations in LA weren’t helping. I used to be so with it -I mean music wise. My mother and step dad were DJs when I was growing up. I had access to so much music. Well into my twenties there wasn’t a festival where I didn’t know all the bands playing. I was even sometimes friends with some of the local bands playing there! I don’t know what happened…

MAN IN ROOM: (mumbling) You got old.

MOE: I heard that! And I didn’t get old! Not that old. Just old-ish-er.

MAN IN ROOM: That’s not a word.

MOE: Shut it! I’m telling a story here through narrative!

MAN IN ROOM: Are you going to get to your point soon?

MOE: Maybe.

MAN IN ROOM: You know you lost half the people who were trying to read this. They’ve already moved on to the Wombat story. You know, the point to this entry.

MOE: I know, I know…I tend to be wordy.

MAN IN ROOM: No kidding.

MOE: SO AS I WAS SAYING, with no access to new good music of late, I went to desperate measures. I started to steal.

PEOPLE IN ROOM: Gasp!

MOE: No, it’s true. I’m not proud. Half the delight in finding new good music is finding it all on your own. There’s a bit of smugness being in a conversation and saying, “Have you heard of So-n-So band? You haven’t? Well, you should, they’re awesome.” But I can’t do that. I’ve been stealing other people’s discoveries. And in the worst ways! If I read an interview that so and so actor likes so and so band, you know what I do? I buy it! If I watch a movie and the closing credits have a good song, you know what I do? I buy it! I’ve read music reviews in magazines and then went out and bought some of their suggestions! I’ve gone into other people’s iTunes and forced them to burn me music! I’ve gone into other countries iTunes stores and browsed their popular downloads! The Germans are really weird by the way. Oh, and if you want a good laugh, check out the Qatar store. I don’t think there is any actual music available.

MAN IN ROOM: *a-hem*

MOE: Right. So I guess what I’m saying is that if it wasn’t for my recent music whoring, I wouldn’t have ended up in LA on a school night watching the Wombats. And I wouldn’t have had a fantastic time and want to change my career from technical support to professional go-and-see-live-bands-and-write-about-them-on-a silly-blog Person. Oh, and I’d probably have a lot more money as buying loads of music is, as you may have guessed, expensive.

MAN IN ROOM: Are you done with this stupid narrative?

MOE: Um, yeah, I guess I am. Thanks for the support buddy.

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WOMBAT (marsupial): Australian. They are short-legged, muscular quadrupeds, approximately 39 inches in length with a very short tail.



THE WOMBATS (band): English. They are regular-legged male homosapiens, approximately 68-72 inches in height with such short tails you don’t even see them.



(So there Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby-Jones who insisted otherwise!)
________________________________

When I found out that the Wombats were playing in Los Angeles, it took me about 15 minutes to purchase the tickets to the show. Most of that time was used digging through my purse to find my credit card. I had asked Kevin if he had wanted to go but unbeknownst to him, I actually asked after the tickets were sitting in my hand. I really like the Wombats. And if you must pry and embarrass me, I found them on the iTunes Discovery Download of the Week a few months back. They must have a good PR rep; after downloading the free song it was less than a half hour later that I bought the whole album.



While I wiggled in my office chair the entire day of the show too giddy to do any real work, Kevin was going about as normal with general appeasing comments as I bugged him with my excitement via IM every 15 minutes. Kevin had only heard two of the Wombats songs and really couldn’t care less about seeing them. Thankfully he got more into it when we finally got there…

…to the Echoplex in Echo Park. If you Google Maps (with Street View!) the address for the Echoplex you will assume that it’s the big white building on the corner. Nope. In true ‘Swingers’ LA fashion, the entrance to the Echoplex was a side door with no signage what so ever. I never would have found it if it weren’t for the line of people waiting to get in.

Speaking of the people waiting to get in, are skinny jeans still that popular? I totally get the big floppy hair and the low top Converse, but skinny jeans? Really? OK, cool, whatever. I guess looking back I really have no right for judgment (so you can just put away that yearbook Beth).

So anyhow, on the ticket it said that the doors opened at 7 PM. The way we figured it, even though there were two opening bands, it was a small all ages show at a small venue on a school night…with the doors opening at 7, the Wombats would be playing by 9 at least. Right?

So it might have been awhile since I’ve seen a live show.

Not the Wombats, but it is the Echoplex stage.

The first band was called Pop Noir. They’re from Costa Mesa and play at La Cave on a fairly regular basis. They were…alright. Kevin and I both agreed that they were *ahem* interesting dancers. The second band was called the Afternoons. Their first couple of songs were actually really good but then...oi. They were a 7-piece band and some good songs but one of the members, the tambourine player no less, insisted of “wooooooo”-ing her way through every single number ruining them. I mean, I don’t mind an occasional “woop woop” or a “wooooo” at the beginning of a tune, but the entire song? And it was that sort of sad arctic seal on the beach about to get clubbed sort of woooooo-ing. “Look at me, feel sad for me, I’m so deeply interesting, wooooooooooo”. OK, to be fair, I just looked on iTunes in hopes to give you a sample of the woooooo-ing and it was refreshingly non-present from their album. I will just say that the audio guy at the Echoplex must have had the day off instead….

…which would make sense! When the Wombats finally took the stage at 10:30, one of their amps was piping in a local Spanish station. They took it with stride and make a joke out of it but it was so obvious that it was annoying trying to play over. But they did great. Not having a huge catalog at this point, the Wombats played all the songs from the EP and about 5 from their album. And it was fantastic. Kevin even danced! He never dances! And I bounced around like I used to at shows, except I’m older and out of shape so instead of a continual bounce, it’s more like bouncing for 30 seconds, resting for 30 seconds (maintaining a head bob), then continuing the bounce.


By the time we left at midnight, our feet hurt, our backs hurt, we were covered in sweat, our voices were going and we could hardly hear. As I said to Kevin with his grinning agreement, “I haven’t felt this good in years!”

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**Pictures from this post have been *borrowed* from the World Wide Web. Kevin has been working on a device that will permanently attach my camera to me. Either that or a big wooden hand that will slap me if I leave the house without it.

Amoeba Music - Los Angeles, CA

Let’s talk about L.A. Well, let me talk about L.A. as this isn’t an interactive blog (save for the voting right there on the right…get in your votes, as the polls close soon!).

I don’t live in L.A. I never have and I can say with conviction that I never will. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this in other posts, but every time I go home to WI, inevitably someone will say, “Hey, how’s L.A.?” or “This is Moe, she’s from L.A.” This is irritating for the fact that Orange County is nothing like Los Angeles. For my WI friends, it’s like saying you live in Milwaukee when you live in Madison. For everyone else, it’s like saying you live in Toronto, Canada when you actually live in Buffalo, New York. I’m not saying Los Angeles is horrible and awful and I could never dream of living in a place like that…quite the opposite actually…it’s just different. It’s nice having L.A. fairly close because there’s so much going on there, even if it’s a pain in the ass getting around.

LA is not Orange County

I recently got it into my head that I wanted to drive up to L.A. one afternoon and go to Pink’s for hot dogs. I’m not sure who even told me about Pink’s, but they are apparently famous. They don’t make their own hot dogs or anything, but I guess the toppings they offer plus some weird potato pancake bun Mari was talking about are really really good and would be well worth the hour long car ride to get there. Southern California experienced a bit of a heat wave this past weekend and what’s better in heat then a good ole American hot dog? Plus my car has air conditioning and our apartment does not.

Kevin’s not a big fan of hot dogs (or mac & cheese for that matter, I don’t think he’s a real American)(ha!) so I was kind of shocked when he said he’d come with. I wanted to make the trip worth it for him so I planned a stop at Amoeba Music and a cocktail at Tiki Ti after the (hopefully) delicious dogs.

...and I used to get so excited over the Hollywood sign...

True to form, traffic getting to L.A. was murder. Kevin spent the time making fairy princesses out of the signs and traffic in front of us. I asked him to stop making fairy princesses and just take some pictures, but between the giggles of fairy princess Hollywood 101 sign and fairy princess CoExist car, he said he didn’t know how to take the frame off.


After an hour, we finally made it to Pink’s. Well, we made it to the corner Pink’s was on anyhow, and got to witness the line that not only went out the door, but around the entire building and even a bit down the block. Damn, those must be some good hot dogs if people are willing to wait an hour in line to get one. I personally do not care if a hot dog is made out of solid gold; I’m not waiting in line for one. I’m sorry I didn’t get a picture of the line…it was truly incredible.

The line at Pink’s left us in a bit of a conundrum. We had just spent an hour in the car for hot dogs only to be disappointed. Kevin suggested that we just go to Carney’s for dogs but I knew it just wouldn’t be the same. We decided just to go ahead and go straight to Amoeba Music and grab something to eat after.

Every time I come up to L.A., I always end up on Sunset Blvd. and will always past Amoeba Music. You really can’t miss it. I had never been inside though. It was one of those things where Andrea would say, “Amoeba is great, you should go there some time” and I would think, “yeah, I should go there sometime” but I never actually do.


Walking into Amoeba Music was like having a full on circus show of music just exploding right in front of you. It was a complete total overload of the senses. The building itself takes up most of a city block and it has an upstairs and downstairs, and a couple of side rooms. It’s L.A. and its Sunset Blvd. and there are people everywhere. Music is blasting, people are bumping into you, and there are signs and posters and neon lights, and lines going everywhere. Kevin and I walked in and kind of stood there in disbelief. We honestly didn’t know what to do, I’m sure we gave the appearance of a couple country folks seeing the big ole city for the first time look. When our eyes were able to finally focus on something, we headed over to the used CD section. I was pretty amazed at the selection. I know for a fact that if I had lived around a place like this when I was in high school, I never would have had any money. “Grandma gave me $20 for my birthday! Let’s go to Amoeba!” In the end, Kevin and I got 5 CDs for $36 which isn’t that bad.

I didn't take this picture, I got it from the web...the day we were there was 10 times busier.

After Amoeba Music we started to walk down the street heading to the Cat & Fiddle for lunch. At this point we noticed that Amoeba had their own parking garage. I’m telling you this (with photo) so you don’t end up spending $6 for parking at the Public Parking garage on the next block like we did.

Lunch turned out to be OK and drinks at Tiki Ti were even better. Have I mentioned I want to marry Tiki Ti? Oh yeah, I think I have. Anyhow, we headed back home (another hour sitting in traffic!) and finally met up with Patrick, Michele, Mari, and Gunter at the American Legion on the peninsula….where I had a hot dog. Patrick had heard our tale of Pink’s and made sure I got one.

So, to recap:

• Orange County is not Los Angeles.
  
• Pink’s supposedly has hot dogs so good that people are willing to camp out all night just to get a taste of the salty greasy goodness.
  
• When going to Amoeba Music, make sure to bring a flashlight and a bag of stale bread to leave a trail with.
  
• Tiki Ti has not proposed yet, but I’m thinking it will be any day now.

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Oh, I forgot I wanted to show you where Tom Cruise hangs out:

4 new things for the price of 1, Hollywood, CA

This week’s new thing brings us to the 2nd most populous city in America, Los Angeles. Ah, Los Angeles, the City of Angels. (Whoever came up with that name obviously didn’t have the foresight of 150 years of L.A.-ness.) And what would Los Angeles be, really, if it weren’t for Hollywood? This week Kevin and I ventured to Hollywood in what we thought would be a simple night of karaoke with some friends, a couple beers, and midnight hot dogs at Carney’s.

We never did make it to karaoke.

Karaoke in Hollywood was the supposed new thing. Even without the karaoke, we did a slew of new things that I’m tempted to say Hollywood itself was the new thing. But that would be cheating, since I have been to Hollywood before. So I leave it to you to be the judge.

Oh? Did I mention that this was going to be a long post? Get comfy.

Kevin and I headed up to Hollywood at 2:30 on Saturday afternoon. By 3:30 we were still in traffic as you can’t go anywhere in L.A. and expect to get there on time. By 4:30 we were booked in our hotel (the Hyatt on Sunset Blvd – thank you Priceline.com) and started to get ready.

New Thing 1:
By 6, we were out the door. Our first destination of the night was Tiki Ti. I have to say that I am officially in love with this place. If Kevin and I don’t work out, I might marry the Tiki Ti…if Kevin doesn’t marry it first. Small, dark, smoky (you can smoke here!) and incredibly fun (OK, seriously, check out their site – the Tiki Ti Survival 101 is a great read) you have your choice of 86 Tiki drinks. All drinks come with a complimentary kiwi slice, pineapple, and cherry. Bob Marley played non-stop. Snacks were free. Did I mention I loved this place?



Kevin in awe of the Tiki Ti


Inside of Tiki Ti

New Thing 2:
A bit later on, we parted ways with our newfound love to meet Andrea and Roland for dinner. We had decided that not only were we going to try a new restaurant but to try a new type of food as well. We headed down to Fairfax and tried our palettes at an Ethiopian restaurant. I will have to admit that I really did like the food itself, very curry-like. You eat with your hands and I’m not sure this is normal or not, but we also did not have plates. I enjoyed the food save for the ‘bread’ which I was told by the waitress was made out of wheat flour but as Roland accurately described it, was “like a shammie.” I wonder how Ethiopian would be with naan.


Kevin, Andrea and Roland. No plates.

New Thing 3:
After dinner, Andrea and Roland headed home as they have a young-un to attend to. Kevin and I dropped off the car and took a taxi down Sunset to go to Daddy’s. The cabbie almost got in an accident and to make matters worse, after paying $20 fare we found out that Daddy’s was now closed. A group of hipsters (which is what I’ll refer to all L.A. residents from this post on) were lingering outside also quite dismayed to find the place closed. They very generously offered to let us follow them down the street (what kindness these hipsters have!) to another place called Well. Please don’t ask me if that’s ‘Well’ like a watering hole or ‘Well’ like, “wellllll…maybe I’ll try the salmon.” Well was, well, full of hipsters. We grabbed a corner couch and had a couple cocktails. We got the stink-eye from a few hipsters as we just happened to be on the corner of their reserved section and decided to move on.

Just down the street from Well was the Cat and Fiddle, which I have been to before. It was getting late so we had our last drinks here and headed back.

But not before stopping at Carney’s. What I love about Carney’s is not only are they an excellent source of late night bar food, Carney’s just always happens to be right next door to the hotel I’m staying at. It’s a train! It sells chili cheese dogs! Yay Carney’s!


Nothing says drunk like a hot dog at Carney's.

A chili cheese dog later we were finally in bed.

But wait, there’s more!

(Have I mentioned the long post thing?)

New Thing 4:
The next morning was Sunday. If you have been paying attention at all you have to know that Sunday is football. Packers football specifically (if you are Kevin). So at 10 in the morning we left the hotel and heading to Burbank to go to…a Packer bar. I have always heard that Packer bars existed but it wasn’t until I walked into the Park Bar that I was convinced. They showed the Packer game on every one of their TV’s. The SOUND was even on. When the ball was in play the place was deathly silent. When the Packers did some thing good (which wasn’t often on Sunday’s game) the place went wild. My only regret about the place is that it’s too far away for Kevin to go to every Sunday.

I’m sorry I didn’t get a picture of the Packer bar. I was afraid of the flash going off and 40 Packer fans kicking my ass as it was right in the middle of an important play. I did, however, get this picture of a really nice Corvette that was parked outside.



And that my friend was Los Angeles\Hollywood\Burbank. Since I have absolutely no money left over from this very expensive new thing next weekend’s new thing will have to be of the cheap variety… like begging for money at the end of an off ramp type of thing.