L.A. RECORD‘s Chris Ziegler will DJ with Spindrift (on the cover here and interviewed here over beers at the Reno Room) and Lemon Sun at the Que Sera in Long Beach tonight. Expect Le Stelle Di Mario Schifano, Norman Greenbaum, Joe Byrd and the Field Hippies and… Creedence. Flyer with all info below.

Mellowdrone’s two opening songs “Oh My” and “Beautiful Day” begged the question: “Was today really that wonderful…or beautiful?”  Maybe it was the commute to Long Beach that had me riled up, maybe it was the chemtrails in the sky that morning. Point aside, it didn’t take long for that familiar blast of high-energy, distorted melodies to awake me from my smog-induced cynicism.  There is something so satisfying about the way in which singer Jonathon Bates lulls you into a kind of tainted dream world with his deep, echoing vocals that seem to engulf you, coming from all directions. Then, like a splash of freezing cold water, the crushing distortion rushes you into an exciting adventure, to a different place inside your head every time.  The past two shows I caught at Spaceland and the Echo involved visuals which were projected over the three band members as they played. At the time, I definitely enjoyed the eye-candy, but it was refreshing to see them perform this time without distractions. Que Sera has a smaller stage about a foot off the ground, which ends up giving the band a vulnerability that is reminiscent of watching your friend’s band play in a garage next door. The modest equipment and Tony DeMatteo’s knicked-up Fender also added a confident, yet possibly unintentional “Fuck you, I do what I want” mindset that I have come to appreciate in any band, and which makes Mellowdrone especially endearing.  After having seen drummer Brian Borg walking—or should I say towering—over fellow band members and bar-goers before the show, I must admit I was surprised that he fit behind the drumset on the stage.  Nevertheless, the bouncy beats emanating from his direction kept me dancing the entire time as they weaved a playful tone through each song. There were a few newer songs, but “Fashionably Uninvited” remained a staple in their set list—definitely worth the trip to Long Beach, past the chemtrails and all.

— Taylor Loftin

Crystal Antlers
Vexation

Crystal Antlers need your help! Their van was stolen last week as it sat innocently parked outside of the Prospector. And this isn’t like some amateur broke the window and took a guitar—it’s more like singer Jonny Bell went to move the van four hours after leaving it there and the entire Econoline was gone. But Antlers never say “die,” and without skipping a beat, they borrowed enough equipment to rock the shit out of two shows and still hold their heads high. Our hometown hotties can’t use one PA forever, however, and therefore they need your support. Basically every show within two degrees of separation for the next month has agreed to pitch in, with proceeds going to buying more vintage equipment and neon sunglasses for the Antlers, and all you have to do is show up. It’s too easy, I know. Crystal Antlers themselves will be playing some of their own benefit shows later in the month (one at Alex’s Bar and one at the scene of the crime), but the wound-licking kicks off tonight at Que Sera. One Night Stand presents Summer Darling, Sons and Lovers and the Fuck-Offs, and they’ve agreed to donate a percentage of the door to the cause. Selflessness in the name of saving local music is all that matters here so you better go. Besides, I would shove dollar bills into Sexual Chocolate’s steaming hot panties if it means that Crystal Antlers can one day roll around in another van with a license plate frame that says, “It’s not easy being Puerto Rican!” So pay your $5 and support one of L.A. RECORD’s great loves. One day, they may pull you from a burning building or help you move into your new place, and then you’ll be fucking glad you did.

— Sarah Bennett

ONE NIGHT STAND PRESENTS SUMMER DARLING, SONS AND LOVERS AND THE FUCK OFFS AT QUE SERA, 1923 E. 7TH ST., LONG BEACH. 9 PM / $5 / 21+. WWW.THEQUESERA.COM. PERCENTAGE OF DOOR TO BENEFIT CRYSTAL ANTLERS.

Howlin Rain “Lord Have Mercy”

A Wednesday night at Que Sera with all the usual suspects and more than expected, too. CB Brand were good old Gram Parsons-style country strumming with a solid group of songs. After threats to our Dear Editor of bodily harm and mostly, as I recall, certain death by the next band whoever they were (“Fucking Awful,” I would report), everyone waited for the main showing of the night, which was for Howlin Rain. Ethan Miller of Comets on Fire and some other Big Dudes of Rock took the stage. I suppose there are a few different reactions you could have had to Howlin Rain. A lot of people were into it, and that’s cool, man. Or, maybe, as I saw, you could have played pool, you could have gone for a cigarette and pretend it isn’t happening, or you could drink your drink and listen politely. I suppose. But listening to their music was kinda like the girl at the party that looks really pretty but doesn’t say anything other than “uh huh” and “Where’s the bathroom?” It was some chords stacked one against each other and someone beating out beats. Listen, here’s the thing: I don’t understand why anybody would—and let’s be upfront—you have to give up fucking everything in this country and anywhere for that matter to be any sort of artist, let alone a musician. So why, on God’s Green Earth, would you go up onto any stage and just play the part? Why? Isn’t the music the very purpose for why you’re there and for what you do? That’s right. I’m waxing poetic about fucking art which has fucking disintegrated to ashes and culture which has been the only salvation of the human soul ever. And again, I’m not saying they sucked. I’m saying they were just. There. Maybe I missed it—entirely. Or maybe I’m just writing how one night of music affected me. Which was not at all. But then, all of a sudden, a breath from above: it’s Crystal Antlers, not giving a fuck if they’re playing to two people, none, or the Gods of Olympus. They zip open the sky and play their fucking souls out. I’m not an expert. I’m just some girl that’s seen some shows, but that is where the music lies. And life without music, as Nietzche said, would be an error. Let’s not make the same mistake twice.

— Chesney Higgins

[Not to risk further bodily harm, but this different reaction thinks that Howlin Rain write, perform, and even conduct ordinary conversation with crazy conviction and talent, though agreed that they look pretty pretty while they’re up there doing it!—ed.]

SEE ALSO: Ice Cream Man review here!

FRI., JAN. 18

Holy rock ‘n’ roll grail. I go out, I see shows, I commiserate with
the lads & ladies of rock, and you kind people never bothered to tell
me that Entrance are basically the second fucking coming? Where is
the love, people, where is the love? Entrance, as some of you may
know and others
may not (and if you’re in the latter group, get with
it because this band is out to blow your mind, and blow it they will)
come in from their magical compound of chillin & chatting with rock
gods to calmly set up, look at one another, wordlessly say ‘ready?’,
nod, and proceed to blow the fucking roof off. Drummer Derek James is
clearly the son of Ginger Baker and John Bonham, with five sticks set
up in the kick for backup for when he pounds the rhythms out so hard
he annihilates them. Bassist Paz Lenchantin looks like she came
directly from the collective womb of Os Mutantes and plays bass like
she’s been studying with P Funk since she was two. Heading the show
up is Guy Blakeslee, who shreds like Johnny Thunders with utmost ease
and grace but the end result is true blue (red, really) rock n roll
like you’ve never seen before—or, if you have, can we meet up
sometime to go over some good times? The sheer tonality of
Blakeslee’s playing is nothing short of admirable. Start the show off
with Grand Elegance who always, always keep it weird, fantastic,
extraordinary, and generally just ensure that a splendid time is
guaranteed for all, and then put a cherry (and 7th) on top with the
fantastic people who run Que Sera (Big Love to Benz, Lou, and Joe
Negro, putting the good back into good times), and my friends, you’ve
got a shimmering, loud, gorgeous night of rock. And a hangover you’ll
have to sleep off until 3 the next day.

—Chesney Higgins

— Chesney Higgins