photography by lindsey best

Thom Yorke performing at The Orpheum on Ocotober 4, 2009 to a sold out crowd.

[Read more →]

photography by lindsey best

Nine Inch Nails performing at The Fonda on September 9, 2009.

[Read more →]

photography by lindsey best

No Doubt performing at the Verizon Amphitheater on August 1, 2009.

[Read more →]

photography by lindsey best

Girl Talk performing at the Fox Theatre in Pomona, CA on July 24, 2009.

[Read more →]

photography by lindsey best

[Read more →]

photography by lindsey best

Spinnerette performing at the Troubadour on June 24, 2009.

[Read more →]

The Decemberists performed two sets Tuesday night at the Hollywood Palladium. Their first included their entire new album from start to finish and their second included a sampling of songs from their catalog.

[Read more →]

Was 50 Cent at the Henry Fonda on Sunday, April 26? No, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t sexual innuendo-laced lyrics on top of ass-bouncing beats floating through the steamy air as young, hot, bodies grinded on each other.

Shrouded in a light show back-lit by videos screening behind them, the Faint delivered. After rushing through a maze of L.A. traffic to get to the early concert (the Faint went on at 8:15), I felt a little crabby, pushing through the crowd to get up close. But, the moment “Take Me To The Hospital” blasted through the speakers—crabby no more—my heart started pumping and my feet started moving.

[Read more →]

Photographer Lindsey Best visited the Shins show last Sunday and returned with these shots of James Mercer, Dave Hernandez and a brand-new line-up including members of Modest Mouse and the Fruit Bats. Two pages of her work below and our pre-show interview with James Mercer here.

[Read more →]

We flopped happily far up front at mainstage as lengthening shadows set the mood for My Bloody Valentine. Management was handing out earplugs at the gate and small wonder, since toward the end of “You Made Me Realise,” guitarists Kevin Shields and Bilinda Butcher (the latter impassive as a Xanax-bombed soccer mom) loosed a gorgeous fifteen-minute-plus feedback annihilation that was easily the loudest thing I’ve ever heard in decades of doting on amplified music. It was less a solo than a hideous (and hideously effective) evocation of nightmare; a compressed and aestheticized variation on the opening bombardment at the Somme, another historic din that produced few actual causalties.

[Read more →]