Mika Miko by Travis Moore

The people came out in droves, brimming out of the venue to catch a glimpse at one of Mika Miko’s three sold out shows at the Smell before the band called it quits. In a full out family affair, the lineup consisted of Paris Hilton Motherfuckers, Le Joshua, Pearl Harbor djing in the main room and the guerilla band HNMR, who hijacked the alley and set up outside the Smell—all showed their love for L.A. favorites Mika Miko.

Now, if you take one part party, one part spectacle, one sound person to work the iPod, the singer from Okie Dokie and the electric Haley, you would get the inimitable Paris Hilton Motherfuckers. The duo rhymed along to hip-hop beats while working their way from the stage to the crowd and asking us “Who wants to get Shasta-ed” while passing a three liter bottle of the stuff around to each willing to partake. Nothing says party like Shasta Cola! And taking an ironic twist on upper class society by parodying it in their lyrics, the twosome sang songs about “Newport Beach: the new outer space.”

Suddenly, the lights were dimmed and a huge curtain was draped over the back section of the stage which read “GOD SAVE LE JOSHUA” in bleeding white letters. Because the openers didn’t have any equipment, the few minutes between the bands were devoted to a long ambient backing drone that Le Joshua entwined in their set before launching into their take on thrashy hardcore. And days after the show, I still find myself on the rails about this band. While finding it near impossible to find much on the group, their following rivaled that of the headliners as seen and heard with the hand clapping frenzy and sing-alongs that went on. Perhaps if you took
that same Shasta bottle from earlier, shook it up and opened it, the stream of carbonation that would flow out would be Le Joshua.

Paris Hilton Motherfuckers by Travis Moore

And last, but certainly not least, were Mika Miko, who understandably milked their last shows by waiting more than an hour after the last band to begin playing; and once they did start, played for an hour plus. During their set, the band went through their line-up changes over the years by letting alums Katelyn Hall and Dean Spunt drum for a few songs; also in attendance was the band’s trademark red telephone microphone.

At the zenith of their youth, the members of Mika Miko are unbridaled as they play their blend of Riot Grrrl punk that sounds like a foot in the face feels. But when your record company pays for you to tour Japan and the band can sell out three straight nights at the very integral Smell have you hit the slope of the peak? Why stop at all? With the rise of bands such as Abe Vigoda, No Age, and Mika Miko who all helped the Smell flourish and began a music scene over the years, and now with the demise of Miko Miko as they hang up that red telephone for the last time, it leaves fans wondering what comes next. If our music scene were a game of Jenga and someone took out the bottom blocks, would the tower topple? It’s possible but doubtful. But
one thing is for sure, without the bottom foundation, we would have nothing. On behalf of musicians everywhere who are trying to follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, thank you Mika Miko. We Love you. R.I.P.

—the Cigarette Bum (Steven Carrer) with help from Animal