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A poetry, literature, memoir, and criticism event.
A feather boa of words for the drab throat of L.A.

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Justin Maurer of Clorox Girls vs. tortas, toilets and ball-punchers in this excerpt from his upcoming chapbook, “Seventeen Television,” out on Vol. 1 Brooklyn–soon!

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No iMac here—this lo-fi assemblage of beats around looped vocal clips feels put together with twine, and reminds me of one of the best eras of hip-hop, when groups like EPMD really got out the scratchy vinyl and put together smart, evocative new songs that respected their source material while standing on its shoulders to achieve something utterly new. Except, you know, EPMD had rappers, and here there are none, except maybe the loops of Ned Flanders saying “Son of a gun-diddley-un!”

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THE ABIGAILS, BLUE SKIES FOR BLACK HEARTS, L.A. DRUGZ, AND HONEYMOON SCREAMS ON SUNDAY APR. 8TH AT THE BLUE STAR, 2200 EAST 15TH STREET, LOS ANGELES. 8:00PM/ FREE/ 21+

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The place was three-quarters full when these four guys from Tazewell co. Virginia proceeded to bounce the crowd all over the back of the room like handballs. O, great was the delight on my homeboy’s face floating up there on the stage where Otis and Crazy Jim and Rod the Mod once capered with just as little inhibition. That moment made my rock ‘n roll year, with nearly a dozen months left to go.

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To enter our contest see the movie and Q&A absolutely free, simply leave the name of your favorite Jay Reatard song in the comments below–our crack team of judges will pick one selection at random and issue that person two free passes. We will be judging on style and poise, so descriptions of your favorite song, links, videos, etc, will definitely help your case!

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Goodbye to Whitney Houston, who died today at age 48. For kids like me who were in elementary school when Whitney Houston got big, she wasn’t so much a singer as a touch point for the times. She was everywhere. She had a million great videos, with more youthful smiles and a broader color palette [...]

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If you haven’t seen the Shrine, you should check them out now before they explode. With their minimal gear and vintage enthusiasm, they have the ability to start a set with high-energy chord-and-lead-lick driven songs, then push the throttle out even further by dipping into frantic numbers like “Freak Fighter,” which sound a bit like what thrash metal would be if it had evolved straight from Thin Lizzy and bypassed Judas Priest entirely.

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