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Americans celebrate St. Paddy’s Day not because we love Ireland, but because drinking is such a big part of our lives. Drinking is a glorious edge-taker-offer, a social lubricant, a fast track to party time and getting busy. It’s often the worst thing you could’ve done last night for all those reasons. Here’s a mixtape of original songs to get you through this holiday in style!

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photography by Daiana Feuer
He’s My Brother She’s My Sister is like a time warp to the golden present, wrapping nostalgia around the here and now with throwback flair and good taste. They make debauchery and estrangement so glamorous. The songs are as catchy as a radio pop jam, but throw off the trappings of plastic [...]

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In order to raise money for the next run of their play, New, Post-Fact Productions—Rachel Kolar & Lauren Brown—convinced Mehlman (Seinfeld writer/producer) to host a masquerade gala at his house. Gala doesn’t really describe the living room cocktail concert vibe. It was a casual and polite affair aside from a few rowdy adults and a topless one-man dance party wearing shiny leggings called Oliver. The performances hit intimate and quirky heights.

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Download: He’s My Brother She’s My Sister “Tales That I Tell”

(Performing Oct. 30th w/ Amanda Jo Williams + more)

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I wound up at the Echoplex instead, getting the joy of seeing one of L.A.’s wondrous little surprises, He’s My Brother, She’s My Sister. Cali country is something I love with the fervor of a late convert, since even Buck Owens was little more than some jackass on TV until I moved my Dixie-fried ears out here for an accidental steeping in the Bakersfield Sound and its many variants. Robert Kolar and Felipe Ceballos from tough indie wide-boys Lemon Sun contribute heavily to Brother/Sister, with the whole, shifting, multi-piece concatenation in the great line of Gram Rabbit and the Parson Red Heads in the insistence on coupling the High with the Lonesome.

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Even in a jumpsuit with enough pockets for the apocalypse, no one is fully equipped for this weekend. People will lose flutes in teepees and see alligators in guitar-neck shadows chomping on the heads of musicians; and emerge from Pioneertown alleys on Sunday morning without pants.

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What tales lurk behind the pages of He’s My Brother, She’s My Sister? ‘Days not so swell’ among the fur-clad and feather donning on Echo Park rooftops. Midnight voyages in Joshua Tree to abandoned churches. Psychedelics. Folk tale riddles and singalongs passed between two siblings, a tap dancer, a stand-up bass, and a drummer’s restless hairdo.

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Country-clad strangers huddled around the bar and red-lit couches, holding beers and cookies rather than guns. The DJ played Hank Williams between bands until they ran out of his material, then Loretta Lynn took over. Chilling on the tiered chairs within The Cowboy Show’s intimate vibe, the audience sat rapt, almost hypnotized, every time a band took stage.

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