Filed under: Things to do in L.A.
While everyone was at Coachella this past weekend rocking out to Rage Against the Machine and dancing their hearts to LCD Soundsystem, I was getting in touch with a microphone, seeing Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (not romantically), eating shish kabobs, dating 15 men, and playing DDR professionally. Was I jealous that everyone else was sweating, paying for overpriced food, and getting dehydrated in the desert? Okay, just a little bit… I mean, Tom Morello was there.
Amagi: Combine a dive bar and a cheesy karaoke stage in the Gower Gulch cowboy shopping strip and I’m there! For anybody itching to sing in Los Angeles at a place that isn’t too intimidating and where you can grab a Brewster and even feel like a man, Amagi’s the place to go. There is a small room in the back of the bar, where there is a stage fit for a low-budget 70’s movie with all the works – the red velvet curtain, the streamers and the disco ball. And the stage isn’t so high off the ground, so you can do your Mick Jagger impressions with ease while walking off the stage to dance with the alcoholics. Although the sound system isn’t the best sound system in the world and the voice of singers can be piercingly loud at times, the upside is that the place isn’t super trendy but hip in its own way and it’s a great place to embarrass yourself with your friends for a $1 each song. The best part about this room is that there are two men that sit in the corner of the mini-stage and are the DJs for the karaoke songs. They could almost be the next American Idol judges based on their body language alone. When I went on stage with my friend singing, “Total Eclipse of the Heart” (my specialty), we showcased our turning around skills every time we sang “turn around…” One of the DJs sat there shaking his head at us the whole time while burying his hands in his face. And if you’re not planning on singing, you can watch Amagi regular, Steve, the Japanese Karaoke Ninja, do his Freddie Mercury and Axl Rose impressions nightly.
Amagi @ 6114 W Sunset Blvd (Cross Street: N Gower Street), Los Angeles, CA 90028
Speed-dating: When my friend and I drove down the street looking for the lounge that was housing this speed-dating event over the weekend, we knew it was going to be a classy night. It was the kind of street that was full of Wal Marts and CVS’s. The lounge was underground, next to a bowling alley. When we got out of the car, the first guy we saw was a portly, middle-aged, short man. Since this was my first time going to a speed-dating event, I didn’t know what to expect and tried to run back in my car to avoid a horrible mess. My friend convinced me that this would be a night full of laughs and I remember I enjoyed laughing so I continued walking. While we walked up to the lounge, a random man stopped us on the street to say, “Damn girls! You fergalicious!” What did that mean?? I thought only Fergie could be Fergalicious. I mean, it would even make more sense if we were delicious or supercilious.
The 1020 Lounge in Arcadia was surprisingly nice and it felt like I had stepped into some hipster lounge in Hollywood. The red ambient lighting filled the room and there were little stone tables that gave a nice touch to the decor. Upon first entering the room, there was even that big Buddha fountain that seems prevalent in many hipster Asian-themed bars.
There were a few duds out there and a couple of freaks as I expected, but the thing that surprised me was that there were some actually normal people there, just wanting to build their network of friends. So, for everyone to know – speed-dating isn’t that weird and actually pretty fun. You meet a lot of random people and if they’re not somebody you’d want to get to know any further, you can just write stories and post them on your blog instead. But by the end of the night though, I was so bored talking about myself and my job and my hobbies that I started thinking, am I boring? But if you say the same thing to 15 guys, you’re bound to feel this way. Here’ s a recap of some of the more memorable conversations I had with these suitors and conversations I overheard.
*My interview with this skinny nerd that tucked in his polo shirt into his jeans:
ME: Hi, how are you?
HIM: I’m good. I’m good. I love clubbing. What do you like to do?
ME: Oh well, I love listening to music and –
HIM: Well, I like clubbing because I love to dance.
ME: Oh really? What kind of dancing do you do?
HIM: Everyone thinks they like dancing, but I really like dancing. I’m at Garden of Eden every weekend clubbing. You should come see me dance tonight.
ME: Well, I’m sorry, I’ve got plans tonight.
HIM: I’ll be there and I’ll buy you a drink. (grabs my paper and scribbles his number on it) Call me, I’ll be there. I love dressing up for clubs.
ME: Don’t you already dress up for work?
HIM: Yeah, I do.
ME: Then how is it different?
HIM: It’s not.
*It was the most excruciating five minutes of my life.
*Here’s a conversation that took place between one of the guys and the bartender:
GUY: I’d like some fruit punch, please.
BARTENDER: We have a full bar here, man. Why don’t you get a drink?
GUY: But I really, really want fruit punch.
BARTENDER: We don’t have fruit punch. This is a bar.
GUY’S FRIEND: (whispering to the guy) Come on, man, just get a drink with alcohol.
GUY: But I really really want fruit punch. Okay, fine.
GUY: Can I have a Cosmo?
BARTENDER: Do you want fruit punch in that too?
The L.A. Times’ Festival of Books @ UCLA: Who knew that being around thousands of books could be so much fun? I did! Since I didn’t see as many celebrities as I thought I would like Ray Bradbury and Ralph Nader, just knowing they were there somewhere in the same vicinity as me brought me joy. I did see Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and I don’t know what I expected from him, but I was a little disappointed. He was speaking for a outdoor panel advertising his new book. Okay, now thinking about it, I really wanted him to just stand up and have a booming voice…and maybe do a kicking move like in “Game of Death”. It wasn’t as impressive seeing him sitting in a chair and speaking into a mic that was turned down. He’s the Captain! Anyhow, there were an amazing amount of booths and something for everyone. There was a booth that sold all of their books for 5 bucks each (and not crappy books that are usually on the “on sale” racks at used book stores), booths that housed information for aspiring writers, and booths that provided $4 lemonade. The only surprising thing for me was that UCLA students have to pay $8 for daily parking passes everyday.
Filed under: Photos
Photo by Vick the Viking at flickr.com
Filed under: Music
Leslie Feist embodies many things: she’s a Canadian expatriate now residing in France; she’s otherwise known as “Bitch Lap Lap” to the crotch-obsessed electroclash musician Peaches; she makes indie boys buckle at the knees with her beauty and charm; and not only has she collaborated with Broken Social Scene and The Postal Service, but everybody else and their mama’s.
To add to that list, Feist is now releasing her third solo album, The Reminder, on May 1, which takes listeners on a trip not only exploring the indie scene, but also making stops for interesting arrangements, soulful jazz, and folk beats. This album was sculpted within two weeks in an old house outside of Paris. With help from friends like Gonzales, Jamie Lidell, and Dominic “Mocky” Salole, The Reminder exemplifies Feist’s truly ethereally warm and seductive voice that is on many occasions chilling to the bone.
If there was any complaint about Feist’s last solo effort, Let It Die, which had received numerous accolades, it was that there were not enough danceable tracks. But Feist listened to those prayers and answered them. Two new tracks induce spinning, hand-clapping, and alternating shoulder-thrusting from the likes of hipsters. “My Moon My Man”, the first single to be released, features a small amount of instrumentation of repetitively addictive drum beats and twangy guitar riffs, which work well to call attention to the sultriness of Feist’s voice in a sassy upbeat tempo.
Another track quickly gaining attention is the lush sound of “1,2,3,4” that could possibly be the song that will hit mainstream charts and be seemingly fit for a Gap ad. The song which starts off modestly with simple acoustic guitar strumming breaks out into an adorable pop frenzy that includes upbeat jazzy piano jangling, horns, a gospel-like chant, and yes, clapping and finger-snapping.
Feist’s proclivity towards mixing different genres of music unfortunately pulls the album in different directions. Although there are a handful of tracks that are mesmerizing and needless to say addictive, including “Past In Present” and her distorted power-driven cover of Nina Simone’s “Sea Lion Woman”, there are also a handful of tracks that are comparable to a long and endless slumber. “The Water” is an example of one of her unbearably slow as molasses songs that combine echoed singing with minimal instrumentation.
But some of Feist’s slower songs are still redeemed with her heavenly vocals and her signature simple heartfelt lyricism about breakups and love. The Reminder opens with “So Sorry”, where Feist sadly croons “We don’t need to say goodbye/We don’t need to fight and cry/Oh we, we could hold each other tight.” The poignancy of her voice really tugs at heart strings. The album finishes off with a memorable duet with Kings of Convenience’s Eirik Glambek Boe on “How My Heart Behaves”, where Feist’s voice quivers when she sings, “The cold heart will burst/If mistrusted first/And a calm heart will break/When given a shake.”
The Reminder is Feist’s best solo work to date and although the album would be more effectual if the songs were more similar to “My Moon, My Man”, there’s still a passionate experimental side of Feist that makes the album enjoyable and fans fall in love with her.
Filed under: Oh Engrish
Learning English as a second language is definitely difficult. Teaching it is just as hard, but one of the perks is the hilarious things students say without realizing that they’re being perverse. Let’s take today for example. I had the students write “Have you ever…?” questions and then use those questions to interview each other. While monitoring the students, I came upon one girl asking a male student, “Have you ever laid somebody?” I double-checked if her pronunciation was off, but those exact words were clearly written in her notebook. He answered “yes,” and then looked at me and said, “wait, what does ‘laid’ mean?” I didn’t even know where to start. Before I got into what “laid” really meant, I realized she meant to ask “Have you ever lied to somebody?”
You can’t make this stuff up.
*more “Oh Engrish!” to come in chapter 2…
Filed under: Things to do in L.A.
Bored? Crying because you have no friends? Sad because you have nothing to do…and you live in L.A.?! Check out these upcoming indie shows:
*Musical Acts, Other Events*
Thu – Sat 4/19 – 4/21 – Colin Hay @ Largo (The Men at Work guy!)
Sun 4/22 – Blood Brothers @ Glass House
Mon 4/23 – Sarah Silverman & Friends @ Largo
Tue – Sun 4/24 -4/29 – Janeane Garofalo, Mark Maron & Henry Rollins @ Silent Movie Theatre
Tue 4/24 – Sean Lennon @ The Roxy
Tue 4/24 – Blood Brothers @ El Rey
Tue 4/24 – The Nightwatchmen @ Amoeba (Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine & Audioslave)
Tue 4/24 – Xiu Xiu, Sunset Rubdown @ The Troubadour
Wed 4/25 – Blonde Redhead @ The Glasshouse
Wed 4/25 – David Sedaris @ Royce Hall
Wed 4/25 – Lemonheads, Giant Drag @ El Rey
Thu 4/26 – !!! @ Amoeba
Thu 4/26 – Earlimart, Sea Wolf, Watson Twins & Parson Redheads @ Ex_Plx
Thu 4/26 – Jesus and Mary Chain w/ special guests TBA @ Glasshouse
Fri – Sun 4/27 – 4/29 – Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival @ Empire Polo Field, Indio, CA
Fri – 4/27 – Crowded House @ Glass House
Sat – 4/28 – MONO, world end’s girlfriend @ Troubadour
Sat – 4/28 – Nas @ House of Blues
Sat – 4/28 – The Walkmen @ Ex_Plx
Sun – 4/29 – Travis @ Henry Fonda
Mon – 4/30 – Andrew Bird @ Amoeba
Mon – 4/30 – Cornelius @ El Rey
*Let me know if I should add any shows to this list
Filed under: Photos
Photo by Mathieu Struck at Flickr.com
Filed under: Food
Oh delicious BBQ ribs, you’ve disappointed me so. I’m not sure if there’s going to be a 3rd Annual BBQ’n at the Autry, seeing as the 2nd annual one held on Saturday, April 14 in Griffith Park was a complete sham. I had dreams of chewing on tender meat falling off of bones slathered with thick BBQ sauce…Drool. What kind of BBQ ribs cookoff takes place where people aren’t allowed to sample the goods? Upon entering, there was a sign that said, “Due to L.A. County Health Code Standards, there will not be sampling or tasting offered by the 32 KCBS competition barbeque teams.” This is a quote from the event website: “Sample the tastes of Q’n competition and cheer on your favorite teams as they season, smoke, and sizzle their way to cash prizes.” Liars.
My heart sank when I found out this distressing news. Why did I even pay an entry fee to begin with? I had walked up to the competition booths in confusion and/or denial and saw slabs of meat still searing on the grill, but the competitors just fed it to their friends and families and let us stare at them and their copious bottles of BBQ sauce. Drinking BBQ sauce wasn’t want I was aiming for. I did see a woman wearing pink cowgirl pants with a matching hat as well as a random man wearing a Native American costume. Was that enough? No!
The festival did have three vendors selling ribs and people had to stand in line for an hour to get a plate of what I believe to be sub-par ribs. And I’m pretty sure the reason people stood in line was because they were just as upset about the festival and felt that they had better leave eating some sort of ribs (even if they sucked) so they could tell their friends and families. There’s nothing worse than coming back from a ribs cookoff empty-handed. I didn’t even bother waiting in line because that’s how sad it was. I ate a hot dog with beans because the line was shorter. I know, it’s sad.
So, I’ve decided to stick to the two rib places I know are awesome and have come to love:
Naples Rib Company
5800 East 2nd Street
Long Beach, CA
Phil’s BBQ
4030 Goldfinch St.
San Diego, CA
This is my present to you – the name of two amazing restaurants with great ribs. And this time, the lines for the ribs are real and not superficial.
If you want to buy your own ribs and barbeque them yourself, the best place to go is Bristol Farms. There are numerous locations all over L.A. Enjoy!
Filed under: Music
Did you feel dirty too when you saw Alanis Morissette wear booty shorts, gyrate her hips, then dance with Canadian gangsters? Well, please join my support group. Morissette’s parodic cover of Black Eyed Peas’ “My Humps” has become a recent culture shock, spreading fast like an STI over YouTube. Her version runs along the lines of the sadcore music genre with melancholic piano playing laced with the turtle-speed singing. The tone of the piece is also slightly reminiscent of Madonna’s “You’ll See”, except it’s much, much sadder. Despite the funeral-like sound of this song, Morissette actually reminds listeners of how well she can actually sing with her vocal range, since many listeners have forgotten about her existence. Truly listening to the lyrics of “My Humps” without the distractions of dance beats really sheds a light on how the lyrics are insanely ridiculous. Sadly chanting “my lovely lady lumps” and stretching out the words sends blaring questions of “What are lady lumps? Are they a disease?” Then it just leads to the next thought, “I’m not sure what humps are, but they sound provocative.”
Filed under: Photos
My Japanese student emailed me these pictures today. It really made my day and I let out a guffaw of laughter when I saw it. I hope it makes you smile too.
Filed under: Poetry
Over the weekend, I went through a drawer, or a time capsule if you will, that I had not touched in years. In it, I found old letters to friends, a sixth-grade yearbook (in which a number of budding artists drew pictures of Mortal Kombat characters in different perspectives), and most importantly, my Robert Frost book of poems that I had unknowingly abandoned.
The first time I read the poem, “Birches”, I instantly fell in love with it and wanted to start writing and give up on writing all the same time. If I could ever describe ice on trees as “They click on themselves / As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored / As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel”, I would feel like a superstar. Using sharp imagery and poignantly melancholic word choices, it resonates a certain sadness in how we sometimes lose ourselves in our hectic lives and yearn to return back to our childhood days when life was simpler (which I’m sure many of us can relate to). If you haven’t had a chance to read this, please do and enjoy.
Birches
by Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows–
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father’s trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
