Tuesday is the new Friday. Don’t believe me? The lineup of LA Weekly’s 101 Festival at Universal Studio’s Gibson Amphitheater proves it. The bill boasted four diverse musical acts, all of whom got their starts from humble, do-it-yourself beginnings and have emerged as leaders in the indie rock world. Can you say as much for your Friday—let alone Tuesday—night?

Chhom Nimol, lead singer of Dengue Fever, for instance, was discovered by future band mates Ethan and Zac Holtzman in 2001 while singing at a Cambodian nightclub in Long Beach.  Nimol barely spoke English at the time, but now, she and the rest of the 6-member group have honed a unique Cambodian-pop, psychedelic rock sound, and have carved out a substantial niche, not to mention following, in LA. On stage, Nimol’s silver sequin dress sparkles like the delicate, lilting melodies she sings in her native tongue, Khmer. Juxtaposed with the bouncy, fast rock progressions played by the rest of the band, the hybrid sound that emerges is soothing and energizing, danceable and swayable all at the same time.

Next up is Matt and Kim, a Brooklyn-based electro-pop duo consisting of Matt Johnson (vocals/keyboards) and Kim Schifino (drums/vocals). The two reportedly met in college in 2004, started writing music in their bedroom with little musical training or know-how and soon after began playing shows without a name or even rehearsed songs. Fast-forward to 2009, two album releases and almost five non-stop national and international tours later, and it seems they might know a little something about music after all. At the very least, it’s obvious that they’re well versed in the art of audience relations.  At the Gibson, Matt and Kim get familiar with the crowd by pulling their gear right up to the edge of the stage and convincing the security guards to let even those without proper wrist bands into the venue’s dancing area. The result is cheerful, dance-tastic mayhem, from both the audience and Matt and Kim themselves.

The two final acts, The Dandy Warhols from Portland, OR and the Silversun Pickups from Silver Lake, CA, come from slightly more typical rock band roots; they formed in hipster neighborhoods by groups of fast, hard-partying friends. Both bands have a 90′s alternative rock feel; the Warhols actually formed in 1993 and so their deliciously droned, dark tunes have earned the description outright. The Pickups began in 2005 and put a contemporary spin on the genre with their fast-paced, distorted sound and pensive lyrics.

Well folks, I hope we’ve all learned a valuable lesson that Tuesday is no longer a day for reruns, sweats and microwaved taquitos. I know I, for one couldn’t have asked for much more any night of the week. Watch out, Saturday!

Words and Photos by Christine Spehar

If you haven’t been eagerly anticipating the release of Kid Sister’s debut album, Ultraviolet, you may want to come out from under that rock, because that’s exactly what the album does—it rocks. Melisa Young (AKA Kid Sister), girlfriend to famed DJ A-Trak, friend of Kanye West (who raps on the song “Pro Nails”) and sister of J2K of electronic act Flosstradamus, is the well-connected face and voice behind the record. But now, two years after work on Ultraviolet—and major hype about Kid Sister as a female MC—began, Young emerges a little older, a little wiser and ready for center stage. Watching her perform live at LA’s Echoplex on Saturday night, it’s clear that her success isn’t all connections; she brings plenty of talent and charisma to the table as well.

After Flosstradamus whips the crowd into a house-remix dance party, Kid Sister enters stage right—no longer sporting the hoodie-and-sneaker look of her beginnings; flaunting instead diva-worthy tresses and shiny black leather pants. But once she starts strutting across the stage, spitting in-your-face rhymes that reflect her endearingly girly yet refreshingly rough-n-tumble tomboy attitude, it’s clear she’s not forgotten her roots.

And despite the aforementioned connections, those roots are pretty humble. Young grew up in Chicago and until she was “discovered” in 2005, reportedly worked three jobs, riding her bike through harsh winter weather to get around. Now, in songs like “Right Hand Hi” and “Pro Nails,” she’s singing a decidedly different tune. The confidence and swagger that come through in rhymes like: “I’m lookin’ sharp, you can’t compete with the champ, Steady flickin’, I’m holdin’ done that layaway rack,” are in some ways reminiscent of other hard-hitting female rock goddesses like Santigold and MIA. But Kid Sister brings her own flare to the party, her own contribution to the burgeoning genre. Her scrappy lyrics, high-energy, aggressive beats and the anthemic melodies that accompany them are the soundtrack of a triumphant woman, one who’s come of age, worked her way to the top and plans on staying there.

Words by Christine Spehar

Kid Sister – Pro Nails ft. Kanye West

KID SISTER | MySpace Video

Is it time to hipster-ify your life? If so, the Silver Lake Art, Craft and Vintage Market is the place for you. Trust me, this is not your typical craft fair or flea market crowd, nor are the vendors selling Grandma’s knitting or haggling inexplicably over Aunt Irma’s prized ping pong ball collection. Held in the heart of Silver Lake, CA (near the plaza where indie rockers Silversun Pickups reportedly got their name), you’ll find everything you need to turn your apartment, your wardrobe, hell, even your boyfriend, into a funky, eclectic version of its formerly mainstream self. (No offense, honey.)

Don’t let the fact that the market takes place in a lackluster field belonging to the Micheltorena Street Elementary School deter you. Once inside the fence and wandering the amongst the tents, you’ll discover antique furniture, retro sunglasses, one-of-a-kind home decor, handmade jewelry by local artists, vintage clothing, long forgotten records and so much more. You may even find a used instrument to play in the rock band you’ll resolve to start, thanks to the inspiring merchandise (and backwards haircuts) that surround you.

Huddling behind the curtain Strim Vintage uses as a dressing room, for instance, trying on yet another expertly reconstructed dress by designer/seamstress Wendy Mirts, I find myself wondering why I would ever shop in a mall again. Mirts’ designs are incredibly flattering and also sustainable—she uses old blouses, skirts and dresses to create contemporary silhouettes while retaining most of the original shape and authenticity of each piece. The result is a look that’s got soul, without prices that require you to sell yours to the devil.

Meanwhile, Rico Adair works a few spots down at the Defile Clothing tent. Adair creates dresses from bits of recycled t-shirts, old fabric and donated clothing. A sign instructs shoppers to “build your own dress” and indicates three patterns to choose from as well as bins of pre-cut fabric for rummaging, mixing and matching. Once you’ve chosen your pieces, he’ll sew them together using contrasting stitching and hand-drawn silk-screening to complete the look.

And if fashion isn’t your thing, peruse cards and stationary by local designer Pop + Shorty (the “Congratulations, Bitch” card is my favorite), handmade wire and beaded jewelry by Kee’s Juicy Gems, and funky shades at Society of the Spectacle, to name a few. After today, I’m starting to think the “buy local” trend has some merit after all.

The Silver Lake Art, Craft and Vintage Market takes place Saturdays from 10am-4pm at 1511 Micheltorena Street (at Sunset Blvd.), Los Angeles, CA 90026.

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Curious Josh

“If anyone out there knows how to change a string, I’ll get down on my knees and show you what heaven looks like.”

I don’t know what’s more shocking—that Andy Falkous, lead singer and guitarist for Welsh rock band Future of the Left, is petitioning the audience for a guitar tech, or the image of him pleasuring the rather large, gruff-looking fan that hoists himself on stage to fix his instrument. But subtlety and predictability are not characteristics that Future of the Left care to cultivate, especially when performing at LA’s Spaceland to a packed crowd of eager, jostling fans. “I guess it’s something that I’ve broken three strings on the last three songs,” he continues, and the audience cheers, undoubtedly anticipating more frenzied steel snapping from Falkous.

His Welsh accent comes through loud and clear on the mic; combined with the band’s thrashing guitar chords and relentless drumming, classic groups like The Clash and The Sex Pistols come to mind. But despite its undeniably punk-rock roots, it’s apparent that Future of the Left is trying something new, and it’s working. Take the Roland Juno-60 synthesizer on stage, for instance. Referencing it, Falkous quips, “Don’t worry, the synthesizer is more scared of you than you are of it,” at once acknowledging that die-hard rock fans might cringe at the decidedly electronic piece of equipment on stage, and more importantly, that he doesn’t give a shit. When he uses the Juno-60 on “You Need Satan More Than He Needs You,” anyone who thinks synthesizers are for electronic musicians with too much hair gel will most likely end up a pummeled, sweaty mess heaped on the floor in the middle of the quickly forming slam-dance circle.

Coupled with opener Japandroid’s exuberant, simplistic garage-band style performance (the band consists of two dudes: David Prowse convulsively bashing the drums and Brian King wielding gritty guitar chords with optimistic, energetic alacrity), I’d be surprised if everyone in the crowd didn’t at least once reminisce about their rebellious, liquor-stealing, joyriding youth, or embrace the fact that they are in the middle of it.

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Curious Josh

What happens to all of that art and music that doesn’t make it to a big stage, or a big gallery, or garner a big paycheck?  You know, the stuff that lives on your basement walls or in the pages of your journal, or in the musky air of your garage? Not surprisingly, the people at (aptly named) Magic Garage, an LA-based underground art/music collective, wondered the same thing, and four years ago, decided to provide an answer to that question.  “The event started as a house party a couple people threw to show off their artwork and music, and it just kept getting bigger,” says Cat Erina, a Magic Garage organizer.  “Our main goal is to give exposure to artists and musicians who haven’t yet found their way into larger public venues.”

That’s not to say that Magic Garage is small, mind you. In fact, it’s been growing so rapidly since its inception that each annual event has nearly doubled in size. This summer, in response to ever-mounting demand, Magic Garage moved from the (you guessed it) garage where it used to host its parties into Annex 7, a sprawling loft space in downtown LA. The event lasted two days, included a continual stream of live electronic, rock and hip-hop performances by local acts and showcased the work of over 50 visual artists. Factor in the half pipe, live tattooing and indoor swing (fashioned from rope and an old computer) hanging from the ceiling of the main room, and “small” is definitely not the word that comes to mind.

In fact, words like “playful,” “creative” and “authentic” are more representative of the Magic Garage vibe. Even in the new, bigger space with a seemingly endless supply of unusual art squeezed into every nook and cranny—huge abstract paintings lined the walls, tiny sculptures peeked out of closets and black-lit 3D art glowed behind shimmering curtains in dark rooms—there was not an ounce of pretension in the air. Wandering from the homemade bar to the retro couch to the dance floor, I had the distinct feeling that I was walking among a group of fast friends, and that it wouldn’t take much to join them. If Magic Garage has done one thing, it’s maintained the inclusive feeling of a neighborhood block party, the come-one-come-all attitude of a garage band kegger with a little more space to roam and a lot more culture. Now about that computer swing: I recommend wearing padded shorts before jumping aboard…

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Curious Josh

At the risk of sounding like my mom, I’ve still gotta say it: They don’t make things like they used to. Case in point: The Dresden Room, a restaurant and cocktail bar nestled amongst more contemporary joints in LA’s hipster-hood, Los Feliz, has been open since the 1940s. When you enter the Dresden, you enter some rare alternate universe where Cheers, Vegas and Sinatra all collide to form a swanky yet comfortable, unique and authentic experience. Walking in to the warmly-lit lounge on a Tuesday evening, you’d think it was a Friday or Saturday judging by the comfortably packed-in crowd, which offers a complete cast of characters—Hollywood executive types rub elbows with younger, fedora-clad twenty-somethings. There are cozy tables sprinkled throughout the room, 50s and 60s-inspired art lining the walls (by Jamie Oliff), and frosted art deco glass behind the bar. The friendly vest and bow tie-adorned bartenders call me “honey” and whip me up a house libation, pink frothy deliciousness poured into an elegant chilled martini glass.

But center stage and center of attention six nights a week for nearly 30 years running are Marty and Elayne Roberts, the Dresden’s lounge-singing performance act. Featured in the movie Swingers and reportedly popular amongst the likes Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts, Marty and Elayne are no joke. They deliver their selection of pop and jazz tunes with bona fide talent while providing their own accompaniment, Elayne on piano and flute, Marty on drums and upright bass. That said, these two definitely have a sense of humor. Tonight, they’re both wearing matching black suits festooned with furry leopard-print trim, and Marty peppers his songs with comments like, “Hey, smiling is free, so is clapping!”

It’s safe to say, there is no shortage of either. In fact, it’s hard to find a person in the room who isn’t a die-hard Marty and Elayne fan. When the guy who posts up next to me at the bar can’t stop talking about how great they are, I think it’s a fluke. Three similar encounters later, I realize Marty and Elayne are woven into the historical fabric of the LA nightlife scene.

Around the corner, with its modern lines, crisp white booths and graceful wooden pillars stretching two stories up to the ceiling, is the restaurant, where I’ve heard the steak sandwich is the thing to order. Jim Ferraro, current owner, has grown up with the Dresden in his blood—his parents bought the place in 1954 and added the dining room in 1964. Though business slowed a bit in the eighties, due to “grunge and the fact that martinis went out of style,“ according to Jim, business has stayed relatively busy throughout the years. “I don’t know how we’ve retained such a following—maybe it’s the niche we’ve created for ourselves but I just think people feel comfortable here.”

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Josh Reiss

It’s time to face facts: clowns are creepy. Of this we are all quite aware, I’m sure. There is something inherently shudder-inducing about the white face, the blood-red smile, the silent, piercing stare. Luckily, some of my LA brethren felt the same way, but instead of banning clowns at birthday parties and slamming the door in the face of little clown children on Halloween, they decided to embrace the sinister side of all things circus. I’m talking, of course, about Cirque Berzerk, LA’s only resident circus, a performance act that’s making creepy cool with seven performances a week through July 26th (August 9th – see comments – DL) at LA’s state historic park. Described as a “circus on acid,” this troupe has found a way to extract the most disturbing—and the most titillating—aspects of typical carnival culture and deliver them to the curious and salivating masses. And despite my (totally rational, thank you very much) aversion to clowns, I found myself among them on opening night. It didn’t hurt that as part of the experience, we were encouraged to get there early, cavort with the carney-couture-clad crew, peruse the wares, and belly up to the outdoor bar. Between breathtaking views of downtown at sunset, winning a few games on the antique pin ball machines and some, er, social lubrication with friendly face-painted folk, I found myself in the mood to take on anything I’d find inside the 1700-person big top tent.

Once inside, it was easy to see that Cirque Berzerk, while fantastical and even playful, also takes itself very seriously. Combined with a dark vaudeville aesthetic and a narrative about a “normal girl” who finds herself transported to the underworld, contortionists, acrobats, fire dancers, trapeze artists and stilt walkers performed with Cirque du Soleil-level athleticism and grace. Silk aerialists swung through the air, dipping low and flying high, burlesque dancers enticed and beckoned, and a group of gothic gymnasts used trampolines to create a rapid-fire, mesmerizing dance out of falling and jumping over a two-story wall. A live band perched in the shadows above the stage set the tone for each jaw-dropping feat and each eerie antic. And unlike a family-oriented Barnum and Bailey-style circus, the spectacle did not shy away from typically taboo themes like homoeroticism, homicide, polyamory, and BDSM, to name a few.

True, Cirque Berzerk is not a cheerful family affair, but in my opinion, it will leave you with fewer nightmares than that clown who came to your 2nd grade birthday party did. In fact, it may leave you with a few good fantasies instead.

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Sidney McMullen

Standing in a small hallway surrounded by the members of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, I feel for a moment like we’re all skipping down the yellow brick road together (except instead of poppies, we’re in a field of something a little, shall we say, greener). They’re all just so damn happy.

I must admit, researching the band before their performance on KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic, I was a little skeptical. First of all, the 11+ members tour in a converted school bus and lead singer Alex Ebert, with his bare feet, ripped white suit, long hair and soul-piercing eyes, looks like a cross between John Lennon and Jesus. Phrases like “hippie revival,” “art troupe” and “organic folk rock” are used so frequently to describe them, I feared I might be asked to drink some Kool Aide-esque concoction during the show.

After experiencing the ensemble’s exuberant, truly joyful performance and uniquely full, choral sound, however, I can now safely say: whatever they’re drinking, I want some. The Zeros emit such a contagious feeling of optimism, not only when they perform but also when they interact off stage, I literally could not stop smiling.

Formed by Ebert after becoming a self-professed “automaton” in his previous band, Ima Robot, the Zeros are named for what he describes as an imaginary “superman brought to earth to accomplish a lot of things, but who keeps falling in love instead.” The irony there is that Ebert and the rest of the gang draw their inspiration from love and community (they’ve even joked about starting their own town), and watching them, you’re reminded that being in love IS accomplishing something, that it’s quite possibly the most important thing we can hope to get done in life.

Look for the Zero’s debut album, out July 14th, and don’t miss them perform at LA’s Hammer Museum on July 23rd.

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Parts Department

Wait, on second thought, don’t bother asking her—since there’s no way it could be nearly as cool as Vanessa Bonet and Kasey McMahon’s line, you’d probably just end up with a keyed car if you did. Bonet and McMahon have taken fashion to new heights (or new levels of mental instability, depending on how you look at it) with their LA-based “wearable art” design collaboration Psycho Girlfriend, which they founded in 2004.

Not your average couture fashion, Psycho Girlfriend pieces are one of a kind, sculptural creations that blend expected materials, like tulle fabric, leather and vinyl with decidedly unconventional mediums—plastic sporks, bent aluminum, steel, titanium, doll heads, mouse fur, bugs, circuit boards, foam pool noodles, and live hamsters, to name a few. But don’t let the list of bizarre components fool you—this is no hodge-podge, arts-n-crafts hobby, this is high art. Each piece takes weeks to build and is so precisely and carefully constructed, that standing among them in the Psycho Girlfriend warehouse, I feel museum-level hushed reverence wash over me. It’s true, the pieces are that beautiful. They’re also totally, insanely playful and bursting with ironic humor and unapologetic in-your-faceness. (So much so that they make you do crazy things, like invent new words.)

“People don’t really know how to categorize our stuff because it’s wearable…it would be great to break through that wall and hear people say, ‘wow that’s a really beautiful sculpture,’ as opposed to, ‘that’s a really weird dress,’” says Bonet. While it’s true that some of the pieces were created with Burning Man costuming in mind, the designs quickly evolved to become much more than that, and to incorporate each woman’s unique creative voice.

McMahon classifies her artistic style as “cerebral,” while Bonet is primarily a large-scale sculptor with the “desire to make fun of all aspects of life…and pull [people] out of their comfort zone.” McMahon’s work, on the other hand, conveys a running theme of “housings within housings,” and typically emphasizes the merging of technology with nature. Her recent “Birdcage Dress,” for instance, is a wearable metal birdcage in the shape of a huge tiered hoopskirt, which houses real birds and rolls along on wheels as the wearer walks within it. Well, “walks” may be a stretch. “Stands and occasionally shuffles” is more like it. Either way, the dress juxtaposes delicate beauty with industrial workmanship in a way I’ve never quite seen before.

In fact, the entire Psycho Girlfriend line is built with an eye towards thought provoking details—similar to say, a date with a less-than-mentally-stable romantic partner, you never quite know what to expect.  But then again, the expected has never really interested McMahon or Bonet. “We’ve talked about making a line that’s accessible,” says McMahon. “The ultimate decision was, wow, that’d be really boring.”

Check out some Psycho Girlfriend pieces below, and view even more at www.yourpsychogirlfriend.com.

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Suzan Jones

Robots and anime go hand in hand like wasabi and ginger. So when I saw that the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center was putting on something called “A Robot Trifecta,” I knew I had to be there. It was the JACCCs first attempt at a free outdoor summer event, with the idea being to “bring the community together, get them out to do something different,” according to the sushi chef who hand crafted a delectable spicy tuna roll just for me. The screening took place in an outdoor courtyard in LA’s Little Tokyo. Surrounded by restaurant patios, steaming noodle bowls and boba tea, we sipped Japanese beer and took a seat on the steps to be entertained by three classic robot-based anime series—Astro Boy, Voltron and Gigantor. A DJ spinning ambient electronic tunes set the mood as the sun set and people settled in to their places with chairs, blankets and pillows brought from home.

The screening started off with Astro Boy, a Japanese television series that first aired in 1963 and which introduced the world to the aesthetic of anime.  We watched the original 1960 edition, in which Dr. Tenma, Astro Boy’s creator, sells him to a cruel circus owner when he realizes that Astro Boy will never grow or experience the world like a normal human child. Next we saw the unedited Japanese version of Voltron, during which DJs Rani D and Akaider spun a live soundtrack to complement the tale of five pilots and five robot lions who form Voltron to protect the planet Arus from evil King Zarkon. And finally, there was Gigantor, a story about a remote controlled robot that 12-year-old Jimmy Sparks uses to fight crime around the world, which aired in the US in 1966.

Though the aesthetic and scope of each piece was different, the theme of robots saving the day, of machines triumphing over evil (and sometimes over mankind itself) was the same. So even though I’m typing this on a computer that can probably do more in sleep mode than what Astro Boy creators envisioned him being able to do in 1960, that sweet little robot still wins out in my mind. Because unlike this sleek silver contraption, Astro Boy has the ability to get people outside, under the stars and snuggled up next to their loved ones in the year 2009. If that’s not a superpower, I don’t know what is!

Words by Christine Spehar, photos by Curious Josh