My grandmother’s friends would take us shopping here in El Sereno. The butcher was stained in blood, handling the wax paper, smiling as he held tripa and lengua.
Gabriel was playing outside of a gallery and people passed him as his trumpet blared.
“Do you know what happened to the walls of Jericho? I blew them down with my horn.” “Are you the angel Gabriel?” “Just call me your gay cousin Gabriel.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. It certainly was something to say if you wanted to make an impression.
– April 4, 2009. Downtown Los Angeles, outside the Hive Gallery.
Then in 2012 I hear a trumpet player in Old Town Pasadena. The man is much thinner than Gabriel, but he has the same sombrero, the same beat up trumpet. It sounds deflated, like the brass is no longer pristine. He smiles when I pass him on the street.
“Did you used to play in Downtown?” “I’ve played everywhere. Thank you for noticing.”
There is this group in Los Angeles called the Mormons. They’re a band and they sound like a Devo-esque freak folk outfit. The Mormons wear bike safety gear on stage, but don’t let that dissuade you into thinking that they’re some sort of gimmick.
FYF 2009 took place at the Los Angeles State Historic Park. The Mormons were not part of the lineup, but they showed up anyways and played at the China Town train stop. Fast forward to 2013 and they’re still making music only now indoors at The Satellite in Silver Lake. Patrick Jones, lead singer, strutted and frolicked on stage and eventually dived feet first into a recycling bin. He kept singing as he hopped around the room in the bin, the rest of the band continuing to play as though this were a normal thing for him to do.
Sure why not. Eventually he had to get out and the show was over. But the impression they left was gosh darn special. Such polite boys.
It might have been early in the day, but it did not matter much to DāM-FunK. It might have been the last time a keytaur was played on a street in Los Angeles and got that much attention.
I distinctly remember the night when Dawes took the small stage at Sunset Junction 2010. It was the magic hour, long after the sun has set, but early in the night, so the crowd are responsive and aware of what exactly is going on. Taylor Goldsmith, guitar, brought an intensity that few other acts would match that day.
Dawes’ Americana-folk sound soared and dipped, the type of group that could channel The Eagles, Steely Dan, or Neil Young. How appropriate that summer 2013 Dawes toured with Bob Dylan.
My grandmother’s friends would take us shopping here in El Sereno. The butcher was stained in blood, handling the wax paper, smiling as he held tripa and lengua.
At closing time the chef turns on a t.v. and wipes down the outside of the truck.
where are their feet?
There is this group in Los Angeles called the Mormons. They’re a band and they sound like a Devo-esque freak folk outfit. The Mormons wear bike safety gear on stage, but don’t let that dissuade you into thinking that they’re some sort of gimmick.
Speaking of Sunset Junction 2010 – DāM-FunK.
I distinctly remember the night when Dawes took the small stage at Sunset Junction 2010. It was the magic hour, long after the sun has set, but early in the night, so the crowd are responsive and aware of what exactly is going on. Taylor Goldsmith, guitar, brought an intensity that few other acts would match that day.
