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Archive for September, 2010
Let me start by saying that I’m not necessarily a fan of Shepard Fairey, but that’s another story. I do, however, enjoy the work he produces. Printed Matters is a show reinstating the incredible importance of printed media in a digital world. Many say printing is a lost art form; I say we’re too heavily reliant on technology. The argument continues. In this exhibit, we see old and new works by Fairey, which include printing on wood and metal, various paper media, collages, and more. This is Fairey’s first time showing at the new Echo Park location since they moved back in 2008. Read more
Just in case you are in San Francisco or New York tonight I thought I’d fill you in on some musical happenings.
Tonight at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco the legendary Sabbath riff-masters, Sleep, are performing their second SF show in a row as part of their reunion tour. I don’t know if it’s sold out or not but it’s all ages and doors are at 7pm.
A little while back, Omeed and I caught Boris at The El Rey Theatre here in Los Angeles. I had never before had the opportunity to see them live. We were so excited, the entire drive there we were just talking about how the show might be: if they brought their own gear to the states, did they borrow a bus from sunn O))), etc. The opening act, Red Sparrowes, was another band I had not seen live. Frankly, I had never heard of them; however, I think their set was great. Their sound was pretty spot on, the visuals were amazing, and the groove was a great precursor to Boris. Read more
Fuck Yeah Fest was yesterday, and of course I’m still feelin’ it. As with any show/fest/what have you, there were ups and downs. Unfortunately the up was arriving at the show, and the down was everything to follow. I arrived around 1:30 to find $20 parking and a will call line six blocks long. It was a little over 90 degrees and only getting hotter. By the time I got inside, all stages were up and running. The comedy tent was full and the venue had pretty much run out of water. With thousands of visitors, most of whom were too young to wait the forty minutes to get into the beer garden and buy a cup of overpriced PBR, there were bound to be problems. The venue, L.A. Historic National park, was little more than large dirt pit and a few small half-dead patches of grass. Up until the minute the sun went down, the thing to do was find shade, of which there wasn’t much while trying to relax and avoid being hassled by the overwhelming amount of security, park rangers, and local cops (not to mention ghetto birds). Read more