HAPPY BIRTHDAY INDIE DEVIL!!!!

Well looky what we have here!!  It seems my arthritic mind, amidst the hustle and bustle of the daily schlep, forgot about the day of birth for this wonderous site.  So there you have it!!  On September 1st, your beloved X of the Hating persuasion turned 1 year old.  To all you Zygote Hippie Bastards who have suffered my wrath, I thank you for being good sports!  And for those of you who haven't been good sports, may the new year bring you a brand new sense of humor. And some talent. Because your band stinks!  Where the hell are my well wishes, you goddamn bastards???? Send cash!!

H8 Bits: bite-sized bundles of vitriol

-For those of you who don't believe Brian Wilson  to be an over-the-hill, musically bankrupt FLaRNicator, here is your proof. Jesus Mary and Joseph, this man has gone too far.  and he does NOT get a pass just because he eats crayons and poops in his pants.  But for the sake of argument, lets pretend that Disney is not the Enemy! Lets pretend that Mr. Beach Boy isn't sacrificing what little artistic integrity he has left by doing something like this.  At least pick some interesting songs.  Instead of choosing a classic song like, "He's a Tramp," or "Ooh de Lally," he settled on "I Just Can't Wait To Be King.".....a song which Mr. Wilson claims to have "taken it to the max."  Mr. Wilson, I declare thee the vilest sucker of the Corporate Teet!!  Are you really moved by these songs??? Did you really need the paycheck, you Fart-swallower?? Quit while you're behind!!!

-Now for those of you who are still not swayed on the saccharine idiocy of said Beach Bum....to you I say, YOU ARE AN IDIOT!!  I can hear your caterwauling loud and clear....."Aw cmon X!! Plenty of musicians with artistic integrity have covered Disney."  That may be true.....but how many of those artists held onto their integrity after doing so??  ONE!!!  ONE AND ONE ONLY!!! And this guy not only covered the song well, but he really pissed Disney off.  Kudos to you, sir.

-For those of you who are familiar with me, you are aware of my soft spot for the dames. So it won't surprise you to know how excited I was when I received a message from Fay Wray.  I had no idea she was still alive and kicking.  I mean, the math really didn't make much sense. She would be over a hundred years old.  But who am I to criticize?  Plus, beggars can't be choosers....and i figured if i played my cards right, I might be able to put another notch on the ol' X bedpost. Then upon further inspection of the message I realized the email was from a band named The Fay Wrays.  Yeah.  Thanks for getting my hopes up you big jerks!!!!  You don't happen to know Miz Wray, do you?  DO YOU!!??!!??

-Speaking of dames, this week has been a big show week for me, pallys!! I went to the Kissing Cousins residency on Monday. Not because of the music, mind you.  It's the scenery. What can I say?  I'm a sucker for the dames. They don't have to do much while they're up there. Basically as long as sound is emanating from somewhere on the premises and said dames are holding instruments (no playing required, just holding is fine), then I'm a happy camper.  I introduced myself to one of the band members after the show (by introducing i mean I said hello and then lurked back into the shadows without revealing my name), chuckling to myself as I shook her hand and recalled what my putrescent video critic Hamilton Peters said about their visual statement on female prison love. They seem to be nice dames.  I would gladly reveal my leprous skin to a few of them.  Then again that's not really saying much.  My leprous skin reveals itself to you whether you wanna see it or not.

-Hey Tyler-the-Creator!!  Remember that video I posted of yours?  Yeah.  Remember how right after I posted it you won a VMA award for that video?  Yeah.  You're welcome!!

-For all you fans of The National, looks like they will be touring soon.  Who gives a FLaRN?  Not this old man.  Hey Matt Berninger!!!!  You're never going to be Nick Cave.  So stop it!  Stop.

-As I said earlier, its been a big show week for this old man. Tuesday I was at the Echo once again to see another dizzy dame extravaganza, C-Horse.  The drummer holds the key to my crusty heart!! I wanna be her drum throne!  Shhhhhhh!  I also said hello to the bassist too. She's foxy.  So is the singer.  But I gotta take a pass on that one band member chick who looks like a dude.  Not my cup of tea.

-This is the only street-cred-worthy thing the Foo Fighters have done since they stopped trying to be Nirvana.

-Speaking of Nirvana...

-Didn't this already happen after they released Shiny Happy People?  Well it should have.

-See???  Old people, although slow and dangerous behind the wheel, can still serve a purpose.

-It seems as though good ol' Geisssssssssssss never stops creating. I asked him to do a Lady GooGoo cover and he replied that he has too much respect for her artistic prowess to even attempt such blasphemy.  E tu Geisssssssy????
Geoff Geis: Tongue (R.E.M. Cover) by Geoff Geis

-The new Rademacher album is going to be out soon.  Go pre-order it before they start to feel like nobody cares!!!  Hey Mister Sosa........like I said earlier.  You owe me twelve of these.

-Here's some more local FLaRN for your precious ears!!  Some Hippie named Judson just released a single. Never trust a man with a "J" in his name.  John Wilkes Booth........Jeffrey Dahmer........Jesus of Nazareth.  This won't end well.
"People Grow Up So Slow" by Judson McKinney

HAMILTON PETERS PRESENTS...

Hamilton Peters is your one-stop snob source for the hottest music video FLARN around.


Heh heh, I guess I f@#$ed with the wrong collective of happytime Highland Park musical mediocrities! Cuz late the other night I was chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool at my Pomona abode. It was almost time for bed and I was in my Hammy Jammies. I'd finished my skin care regimen but I hadn't brushed my teeth cuz that ship has sailed. I was blasting GG Allin like I always do before bed because I need something to get me pumped to face all the ghastly horror I meet in my dreams.

All of a sudden I heard a bunch of stomping on my porch. "GET THE F@#K OFF MY PORCH!!!!" I shouted, because it's not like I ever get any friendly visitors. Do I really think it's gonna be some beautiful chick lookin' for a late night ride on Hamilton's peter? Puh-leeze.

But they kept stomping and I started hearing a bunch of shouting and I thought I saw a f@#$ing torch through the curtain. I started to hear voices. "We wanna talk to you, Peters!" one shouted. "How dare you say such horrible things about Seasons' beautiful video?!?!?" another said. "Come on out so we can weld some speakers into your arms you little twerp!!!!!!!" said a particularly clever one.

I opened the door and there I saw a mob with torches and pitchforks, straight outta James Whale's classic 1931 adaptation of Frankenstein.

So I was gonna tell you that I'm a fearless man who takes all comers and that I beat down the entire mob using my crazy mixed martial arts skills. I probably coulda done it too, cuz I'm scrawny and smart. Seasons fans are scrawny and dumb.

But instead I'll be honest and tell you that I played it like a wise aikido master and used the mob's force against them. I said, "Come on in guys!" and showed them into my living room. The mob was a little confused but they filed in. Then they looked at me in my sad crusty pajamas with my overnight Proactiv Refining Mask on, and they looked around the room at the empty Hungry Man dinner trays lying around the floor and the stacks and stacks of vinyl reaching the ceiling and the clumps of jizz-infused kleenex here and there, though mostly in front my shrine to Kate Bush, which is a poster of her face from 1980 photoshopped onto a nude body that looks more or less like how imagine Kate Bush's nude body looked in 1980, all surrounded by votive candles. 

The mob stood there looking disgusted. And they stood there some more. And stood there. Finally one of them said, "Let's get out of here, this guy's got it bad enough without us kicking his ass."

After such a triumphant performance I was a bit too amped up to sleep so I emailed Hater X about what went down and I asked, "Is this the type of thing I'm gonna have to get used to if I keep writing for you?" I guess that lonely old bastard just sits in front of his computer all day and all night waiting for someone from the outside world to remember he exists, cuz about two seconds later X wrote back, "Only if you keep doing it right. I'm including a link for another video for you to review. And don't worry, these greasy FLaRNballs don't have nearly enough fans to make up an angry mob."

Here's the video he sent me:

You know who the band George Glass sounds like? And I mean EXACTLY like? They sound EXACTLY like this one indie rock band that was kicking around sometime in 1994. What was this band called, you might be asking? Well I DON'T F@#$ING KNOW!!!! You know why I don't f@#$ing know? Cuz NO ONE F@#$ING KNOWS!!!!! Because NO ONE cared about them in 1994, and EVEN LESS THAN NO ONE cares about their f@#$ing clones in 2011.

As for the video it's about some sadsack silent film loser who's sorta like Buster Keaton except he's got a stupid ass grin on his face all the time and he's got a big date planned with some hot flapper chick and he thinks it's gonna be a wonderful day but the hot flapper chick ends up beating the shit out of him first with her fists and then with a bat and then candy comes out of his ballsack for some reason and then he wakes up and it was all a dream OR WAS IT???? the end.

I gotta admit that I kinda sorta wanna like it. Whoever came up with the idea obviously has some issues with women, and as a fellow dude who obviously has some issues with women I kinda relate. But this guy needs to grow some balls about it!!! The whole scenario  is like a photo negative of this old Andrew Lynch video





...it's like this Andrew Lynch video without balls. And take if from Hammy that if you got less balls than Andrew Lynch then you got a serious testicular deficiency, because Andrew Lynch is pretty much Billie Joel with less balls. He's basically William Joel.

But this poor, poor silent film sonofabitch getting so HURT by his f@#$ing woman...oh for the love of...you have no idea what it's like to be hurt by a woman, Mr. George Glass!!!! You know how I know you don't know what it's like to truly be scorned by a woman, Mr. George Glass? CUZ YOU GOT SARAH F@#$ING NEGAHDARI TO STAR IN YOUR VIDEO ABOUT HOW MUCH CHICKS HATE YOU!!!!!!

Jesus Christ you make me sick, George Glass. You know who wouldn't even return my phone calls, much less do me the honor of beating the tar out of me with a baseball bat???? SARAH F@#$ING NEGAHDARI!!!!!!

Christ almighty I'm gonna puke.

INTERVIEW - Cody The Band

Heya Pallys.  I've decided that each ARCH RIVAL OF THE MONTH should get an interview.  Seems fair, right?  They should be given the opportunity to defend and/or validate their putrescence, at the very least. .If you're FLaRNey enough to be dubbed my monthly nemesis, you should reap the benefits of my popularity.  So that brings us to our newest installment, featuring Cody Hudoken from Cody the Band and Marvelous Toy non-fame.  Now this interview almost didn't happen.  Why, you ask? Because Mister Hudoken thought it would be a good idea to mess with my deadlines, that's why!!!!  I called the kid up to decide on a location and  I got his machine. I called again. No dice. So then I had to get drastic.  I sat outside of his rehearsal space for 72 straight hours. I then tailed him to his house.  After monitoring his movements over the course of a week, I finally decided to make my move.  It was a Saturday evening.  A limousine showed up at fourteen-hundred hours and picked up Mr. Hudoken.  I then followed the limo to the CRAZY GIRLS Strip club.  The limo emptied into the facility. I put on my covert disguise and hobbled after them, pocket-flask in hand.  After being side-tracked by a rather scrumptious all you can eat lunch buffet, I stood in the back of the club and watched Mr. Hudoken.  At one point a topless dame led him upstairs to the VIP lounge.  I saw my chance.  I secured my disguise, loaded up my buffet plate, and scurried up the stairs and threw open the door. The following transcript took place on the lap of a stripper:


X: Surprise!!!


CH: WHOA WHOA.....OCCUPIED!!!!


X: You've been duckin me all week, Hippie!!!!


CH: No way!!! [to stripper] Hang on a second hon!  Man you look nothing like I thought you would.


X: I'll take that as a compliment.  Are you ready to do this thing, Zygote??


CH: It's my bachelor party.  Can we reschedule. 


X: Oh I don't mind.  You go ahead and enjoy your lap dance.  I'll just sit here with my salad and corn beef.  You won't even know I'm here.


CH: Uh


X: Alright, lets do this!! How long have you hippies been playing music and how much longer

before you stop??

CH: This environment is not conducive--


X: WORK WITH ME HERE!!!!


CH: Alright, alright!!  We started playing for excitement, and we’ll stop when we’re tired.


X: What kind of answer is that?


CH: You asked.


X: I think all the blood in your head is somewhere else.


CH: Ya think?


X: Do you mind if I call you FLaRNy the FLaRN or do I have to keep it politically correct and call you by your real name, CODY THE BAND?

CH: Either is fine.

X: That's good, because I don't actually care what you say, I'll call you whatever the FLaRN I want.  I just wanted to seem polite.  

CH: Thank you for the gesture. 

X: Don't mention it!!  So.... COLBY THE BAND is somewhat new to the music scene.  What are your thoughts on the way the local scene is evolving and progressing and what exactly keeps you going, other than fear of failure and the specter of shaming yourselves and your progeny? 

CH: Do I really need anything to motivate me beyond a fear of failure?

X: Booze maybe?

CH: The state of the union is strong. 

X: Are you a Republican?

CH: What?

X: Nothing. Continue. 

CH: As I was saying, I think it would be healthy for the whole of LA to unite – there’s a whole host of bands who play on the Westside, for example, that I have zero knowledge of.


X: HAH!!!! For good reason!


CH: Laugh all you want, but major acts like One Republic and Foster the People have come out of LA over the past five years, and they barely registered a blip on our Silverlake-centric radar. 


X: JESUS CHRIST!!! FOR GOOD REASON YOU CHARLATAN!!!!  One Republic????? Fester The Peehole?? Cmon now!!!!  


CH: As much as the eastside has superior artistic clout--


X: In theory


CH: --a lot of the movers and shakers who actually work in the music industry and can make things happen live on a different side of town. 


X: What are you, a goddamn movie producer??  Movers and shakers???


CH: All I'm saying is that an eastside/westside crossover is starting to happen a bit with the emergence of
  the Central SAPC as a viable venue, and I hope it continues for the sake of all the talented bands in this city.


X: The reason the Central is becoming viable is because the east side is playing over there. Name one westside band that you know of that plays on the east side??  


CH: Well--


X: THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT!!  Also, The Central has become hip because that venue passes out residencies the way The Gold Room passes out free tacos. 

CH: The Gold Room gives out free tacos?

X: You live under a rock, or something??? Moving on!  You have a family member in the scene here with you.  So since you're the younger brother......you are the younger brother, right?

CH: I plead the fifth.

X:  If you're younger, then I'm sure he's kicked your ass numerous times over the years.  All older siblings have that mental edge.  If I sponsor a show at The Echo, get some bands to play, and have the closing act be a ten Round Hudoken death match between the two of you, how many rounds would it go and who would be the victor? 


CH: What kind of question is this?


X: A reasonable one.


CH Fine. It would probably end quickly with a “technical” technical knockout. One of us would trip over a wire or DI box or something and fall off the stage.


X: Figures. Next question.  Does your band have any plans to release new material nd will it suck as much as the rest of the music in Silver Lake? 


CH: There’s always new material in the works, and yes, it will suck as much as the rest of the music in Silver Lake.

X: Are you just trying to get me out of here so you can feel boobs?


CH: Absolutely.


X: Fair enough.  Moving on. Who are your top 3 favorite ACTIVE local bands?

CH: The World Record has been a personal favorite of mine for some time. Andy is a songwriter’s songwriter, and his gift of melody is second to none. And I know it’s a la mode (not with ice cream, but rather as the French say) to be into Manhattan Murder Mystery, but I’ve really taken to Matt’s songwriting over the past six months or so. He writes gems, both lyrically and musically. And his fury is world-class. Bravo.


X: Lemming!


CH: You like them too, old man!


X: How do you figure.


CH: I read between your lines.


X: Don't psycho-analyse me!


CH: Finally, I caught Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros on Conan last night, and I instantly remembered how much I enjoyed their album. I know many in the scene (my brother included) have trouble looking past the whole Ed Sharpe “act,” but if you can, they’ve got some really, really great songs on their album, and their presentation is pleasant on the eyes and ears.


X: Lord knows we need more "pleasant" music. Coldplay, try as they might, can't supply for the whole of the demand. Next question. Who are your top 3 favorite local bands who have since disbanded?


CH: Not to beat a dead horse, but The Movies were the first band that captivated me when I entered the scene about three or four years ago. For all their flaws, Tim was a brilliant performer, and that’s a special quantity.


X: His handstands were captivating.


CH: Simply as performers, The Voyeurs gave an excellent show. Sean Johnson is one of those musicians you’d pay to see play. I hope his career unfolds in a way that allows the world to witness his talent.


X: We always need more street dog vendors.


CH: And maybe, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young? Those boys could really sing.

X: It ain't the sixties anymore, Twinkie!!!  Moving on. Who, in your opinion, are the top 3 most overrated bands in Los Angeles? It's ok.  We're all enemies here.  Anything you say won't be held against you.  Well.....knowing the humorlessness of our musical peers, it might be held against you.  But be a goddamn man and answermy question.

CH: Vitriol makes my soul bleed, so I’m going to take a pass here.


X: You lily-livered.....


CH: However, if you want me to rail against something I consider overrated, just ask me about Umami Burger…


X: Oh cmon Hippie!! Really??  


CH: I'm a pacifist.


X:  You're lucky you've got a dizzy dame on your lap right now.  Next question. If you could open up for and tour with any currently active National act, who would it be and why?


CH: Man, I’d have to go with something ridiculous, like the Rolling Stones or Paul McCartney. It would be worth it just to meet those dudes.


X: Are you joking right now?


CH: What?


X: That's your answer?


CH: I just named some of the biggest musicians to ever live and you're gonna give me shit about my answer?


X: You remind me of those dumb girls who, when asked what kind of music they like, they say, "Oh all kinds of music, except country....really, anything I can shake my butt to."  That's you!!  You're them!!


CH: Whatever.


X: Moving on. To what extent do you agree with my conclusion that Los Angeles is a dead-star-black-hole-wasteland teeming with vile musical putrescence?


CH: If you can manage to get sucked all the way through the black hole, though, it might be worth it to see what’s on the other side.


X: Death! Death and taxes are on the other side. Moving on. Can you extract anything from your little drugged out, communism-addled, granola-clogged minds that might convince me that your group transcends the stale garbage being peddled by your peers as"music?"


CH: I prefer booze to drugs (at this point), socialism to communism, and oatmeal to granola (it’s basically like eating a cookie for breakfast). So, I’m probably the wrong person to tackle this question.


X: This is the first time we've agreed.  Except for the Socialist part.  Well....you know what time it is, right?


CH: Lightning Round?


X: You got it, Poop-fest!! Are you and your boner ready?

CH: Let's do it.


X: Silversun Pickups: great band OR musical AIDS?

CH: How about musical herpes??


X: That works!!  Next. Lord Growing: second best blogger OR tears of a eunuch clown?


CH: Second best blogger. After Perez Hilton, there’s no one more fabulous.

X: I have no qualms with killing you.  Next. Hater X: best thing to ever happen to you OR best thing to ever
happen to you?


CH: Best thing to ever happen to you.


X: That's correct--wait.  Who the hell do you think you're dealing with?  Moving on. Web-In-Front:  Flim-Flammer OR domesticated rapist?

CH: Flim-flammer? It’s not cool to rape anyone once they've been domesticated.

X: Touche.  Next. Henry Clay People: future local legends OR swamp dwelling turd-bellies?

CH: They can accomplish anything their hearts desire.


X: Kiss-ass. Moving on.  Marvelous Toy:  Greater than Colby or Less than Colby?


CH: Plug it into the quadratic formula and let me know.


X: E=MC SUCK!! Next. The Californian: bad to the bone OR bi-curious beach mongrels?


CH: Bad-to-the-bone-bi-curious-beach-mongrels?


X: You're not as dumb as your brother claims. Last but not least.....Harold Arlen: great songwriter or greatest

songwriter?

CH: Greatest songwriter


X: I'd be excited if i didn't know that you were lying to me.


CH: We do what we do.


X: Happy Marriage.


CH: thank you


X: Sucker.

HAPPY MONDAY

My interview with Arch Rival of the Month CODY THE BAND's Cody Hoduken is almost ready for consumption.  Until then, I thought it appropriate to share a bit more of my past with you Hippies.  If you're an avid reader of the hate, then you probably know my past from posts like this. Or this.  But did you know that my father was in The King's Men (not to be confused with The Kingsmen)? Bet you didn't.  Well, he wasn't an original member.  He was Bud Linn's replacement.  But I don't have to tell all you hip cats that info.  You're on it.  You use all this type of musical folklore to get laid, right? Right, Prechtel-C, you little Scallywag!? 

Ah yes.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  The 1940's.  Magic, tradition, war, racism. Good clean fun.  Nuthin like it, folks. Nuthin like it.  And my good ol' dad, the shmuck that he was, left behind a legacy of buffoonery wherever he went.  But this......this here was his crowning achievement.  Boy-o-boy could he carry a tune.  And he was lucky enough to be on film.  Here he is folks...in all his glory!  Guess which one he is?  I'll give you a hint.  He's the white guy.

HAMILTON PETERS PRESENTS...

Hamilton Peters is your one-stop snob source for the hottest music video FLARN around.

I know you lazy punks haven't heard from me for a while. I'd like to say there's a good reason for that, but there's not. What happened was, the doddering old monkey who runs this blog suspended me after one post. "WHY???!!!!" you might be asking. "WHY WOULD THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO THE ONLY HALFWAY RESPECTABLE BLOG IN LOS ANGELES LAST ONLY ONE DAY?!?!?!"

Was it cuz the unvarnished TRUTH that I bring was too much for this piker's blog? Or cuz the fey old dandy known as Hater X who thinks he's such a ruthless spewer of venom can't handle the kind of vitriol that comes from a truly critical mind when it meets projectile turds of happy mediocrity? YES!!!! THAT'S EXACTLY WHY I WAS SUSPENDED!!

Of course that's not what Hater X told me. He said it was cuz of my "witless misogyny" and my "aimless spitballs" and my "general FLaRNiness." 

I'll let you be the judge of that. I wanna explain why he's wrong, but while Hamilton Peters is known throughout the Inland Empire and beyond for being fearless, he's not stupid. I'm on probation here, understand, and I wanna keep the old man happy. Even prophets have to make compromises now and then. 

So why don't we try this again. Hater X sent along a video by local scummy street urchins Seasons, and he wanted to know what I think. Well, why don't you take a look at this lushly photographed and utterly retarded clip for yourself: 

Now, since I'm the resident On-Probation Video Critic here at the Indie Devil Musical Hateblog, I'm not supposed to get too deep into music criticism. That's X's beat and he does it...respectably. But I gotta say that this band's affectless caterwauling has all the aesthetic and emotional appeal of the explosions at the meth lab down the block. And at least those serve a purpose.

As for the video, it tells the story of some broad with speakers in her arms that play music 24/7 and all the woeful problems this causes at her job and with her skeevy hipster concubine. She goes to see Dr. Big Shot to get them removed but he can't do shit. Then she gets abducted on the sidewalk and dragged into a party by some grinning hippie chick with mushroom-breath who thinks her speakers are just totally groovy and then she dances around with some hipsters and lives happily ever after.

NUH UH, Peters ain't buying it fellas. Yeah, sure, a chick like Vera can find a little colony of shinyhappypeopleholdinghands who want to bust moves to her speakers' garbage music all night long. But you know why? Well it helps that she's got a pretty face and a perky vagina!! You think someone with a mug like Hamilton Peters', all bulbous nose and rotting yellow teeth and this f@#$ing acne that won't go away, walking around smelling like Proactiv and havarti...you think someone like me, if I had speakers in my scrawny hive-covered arms, would have a f@#$ing chance of getting invited to dance all night with the beautiful big city hipsters?!!?! (Even though my speakers would be playing James Chance and the Contortions or something awesome like that, not whatever gruel is probably coming out of Vera's.) PLEASE!!!! NOT ON YOUR LIFE! The moral of Seasons' story is if you're pretty enough then other pretty people will overlook the fact that you're annoying. This does not surprise a man like me.

Or maybe they'll only overlook it for a night. What this video doesn't show you is the morning after. Crusty hipster bodies are lying everywhere around the house. Everyone's head is throbbing with their precious little Pabst Blue Ribbon hangovers. Their coke-monkey noses are caked with blood. And the subtitles say, "Will someone get the bitch with the speakers in her arms out of the f@#$ing house????!!!!!! I'm trying to f@#$ing sleep!!!!!"

INTERVIEW - Travis of Web-In-Front

Hello Pallys!!  Time for another rip-roarin interview!! Today we have music-bloggin on the mind with local  journeyman Travis Woods, a.k.a. Cap'n Thesaurus, in the cross-hairs.  Now, this whole interview process is a tricky business, kids!  Do you know how many musicians and bloggers fear me??  ALL!  The answer is ALL OF THEM.  For good reason too. My heart is of the blackest pitch!!  What's that you ask?  How much blacker can my heart get?? The answer is NONE!! None more black!  So its only natural that these little sissy-nannies would try to avoid me at all costs.  The trick then is to hold the interview in a setting conducive to the interviewee's comfort and familiarity.  And since this was technically an unapproved interview, I had to get creative.  Past attempts to convince Mr. Woods of the importance of such a big career opportunity  went unanswered.  Which is why I tracked our dear Travis down at the Archers of Loaf June 2011 Troubadour show.  I arrived with our good friend Lordy around twenty minutes before showtime. And I came equipped with my standard interview kit, which will be revealed shortly.  Now let me preface this by saying we had polished off two full handles of our favorite fowl. As we entered the facility, I spotted good ol' Travs by the bar.  I figured since he wasn't expecting the bombardment, the best bet was for me to stand in the shadows and pick my opportunity.  As the headlining band began setting up, Travis rose from his spot at the bar and headed into the main area.  I followed. He went past the stage, fought through the crowd of smelly anti-grungers, and went into the bathroom.  I followed.  While he was at the urinal, I stumbled up behind him with my trusty chloroform-soaked rag, and he was out for the count. When the good Cap'n awoke, he found himself handcuffed to a crapper.  The following transcript was recorded inside two stalls.

TW: What the fuck!?

X: Heeeeey there, sleepy-head.

TW: Who's there??

X: Three guesses.  I'll give you a hint.........your blog is a diarrhea pie.

TW: You! 

X: Saggy flesh and all!

TW: Dude, seriously unlock me.

X: Ah-ah-ah....not until you answer my questions.

TW: I paid 25 bucks per ticket.  I'll do your dumb interview another time!

X: Relax. The music hasn't started yet. Plus this only has to be as painful and as drawn out as you make it.

TW: I have my lady-friend waiting for me out there.

X: I'm sure Scoop will be ok alone.

TW: Comedy.

X:  So shall we begin?

TW: Jesus.

X: I'll take that as a yes!  How long have you been at the blogging game now and how much longer do you plan on keeping it

up??

TW: (sigh) I started Web in Front around April of 2008—initially, it was simply intended to be an outlet for random scribbling about my nights at places like Spaceland, the Echo, and Pehrspace.

X: S**t holes, the lot of em.

TW:  Transplant that I am, I had moved to Los Angeles about a year prior and began discovering this diverse criss-crossing of bands that made up a scene which no one outside of L.A. seemed to be interested in writing about at the time....

X: For good reason.

TW:...so I decided to create the one thing that L.A. so deeply lacked and so desperately, desperately needed..

X: A flash flood?

TW: Close.

X: Bubonic Plague

TW: Even closer.  The masterful blog you read every day.

X: Let's not overestimate, here.

TW:  People started reading it and here we are, talking about it. And I’ll continue on for a little while longer, I think.

X: Admirable, Hippie. Real admirable.

TW: Oh dude......I can hear the show starting!  C'mon!! Can't we do this after?

X: We're almost done.  Only sixty-five more questions to go.  Plus it smells better in here anyway.

TW: To each his own, I guess.

X: So why keep up this blog??

TY:  I guess it provides me a routine exercise in laying down chains of masturbatory, adjective-pumped hyperbole. And if there is one thing I love, it’s masturbatory, adjective-pumped hyperbole. And Skittles.

X: Which kind?

TY: The sour ones.

X: You win this time. You are considered part of the old guard; the elder blogging elite, if you will.

TY: Should I be flattered?

X: Never. Your content has slowed a bit over the past year or so. What's the deal? Do you think this is a joke?

TY: Well, not--

X:--You're providing a service for all the musical vanity projects that claim relevance in this fair city!!! Have you been telling yourself that you actually have better things to do? More importantly, do you think I have other ways to occupy my time?

TY: Um

X: I'm an old FLaRNey man stuck in a sh**hole convalescent home.  When you neglect your duties, I die quicker.

TY: I'm still trying to get past that "old guard" comment. I think the true elders are people like Fielder and Bronson and Jax.. People like me and Mouse and 704 are all just the bastard sons.

X: You're definitely bastards.

TY: As for the current slow-down, this is a subject that probably isn’t too interesting to anyone who isn’t me, but since you asked--

X: Moving on....

TY: Whoa, whoa!!  Let me remind you before you move on that you've chained me to a goddamn toilet.  Let me speak.

X: Fine.

TY: The reason content has slowed is simple writer’s fatigue with the subject matter, I suppose. You can only write about the same bands so many times before you exhaust every single way of describing their sound without coming off, essentially, like a press kit… which isn’t to say that I don’t still love the bands; I do, and I’ll keep writing about them in some form and always keep going to shows and buying records—I love music, and, more specifically, I love--

X: ....

TY: Please tell me you're not going to the bathroom right now.

X: I'm an old man.

TY: Unbelievable.

X: You should be flattered.  When my bowels get loose it means I'm comfortable.

X: Jesus christ........so, right now, WiF is undergoing a massive redesign/ facelift, which is taking forever, and I’m also reexamining what I want the site to be.

X: How about a site with content?  That's a start.

TY: The tumbleweeds won’t be blowing for much longer, pally, I promise.

X: I trademark my catch-phrases, Hippie. You owe me fifty bucks.

TY: Further, I think the slow-down is the same thing that happens to a lot of music bloggers in L.A.

X: If your friends were jumping into a vat of boiling Indie Hipster gruel, would you do the same?

TY: I got my name out there with my site, which led to other writing gigs. So I’m stretched a little thin.

X: The charge is Traitor......the verdict is GUILTY....and the sentence has yet to be determined. Moving on. What are your thoughts on the way the local scene is evolving and progressing and what exactly keeps you interested?? Other than the dizzy dames??

TY: What keeps me interested? Music.

X: Music?

TY: Just music.

X: Uh huh.

TY: I love and live for good music, and that’s something Los Angeles has in overabundance. And it doesn’t hurt that a lot of good friends of mine are in the bands and the audiences—going to a show, you get to see all of your favorite people.

X: And the dames.

TY: I guess.

X: You guess....

TY: As for my thoughts on the scene’s evolution, I think it’s pretty self-sustaining at this point. For everySilversun Pickups, Airborne Toxic Event, or Local Natives that, for lack of a better term, “make it”—whatever that means now—there’s a new cache of bands that comes up in their place. It used to be, afew years ago, just about every show lineup would feature the Henry Clay People, Le Switch, Death toAnders, the Happy Hollows, or Radars to the Sky. Now, it’s Seasons, George Glass, Manhattan Murder Mystery, or Torches in Trees, etc. It’s like high school—the new seniors come up after the old seniors leave. I think it’s healthy to clear the decks every so often and allow for a new influx of bands to hit their ascendancy.

X: So does that mean the bands that don't jump up to the next level are considered flunkees?

TY: How bout a courtesy flush?

X: Savor it, Hippie!  Does that mean that the bands who never escape the local scene are the musical equivalent to 5th and 6th year seniors?

TY: Not exactly. Its--

X: The cat's out of the bag.

TY: And maybe because it’s just the time that I came in on it, but I do think that there was something special happening, as Mouse has mentioned to you, in the 2006 to 2009 era, in which almost every band you saw seemed capable of getting big—I mean, really, how the hell Rademacher’s Stunts or the Hollows’ Spells or the last discs by the Mezzanine Owls or Fool’s Gold or Castledoor or Fol Chen or Division Day didn’t just explode, I can’t understand—

X: That's because they're all Zygote Hippie FlaRnicators!

TY: What the hell does that even mean?

X: I explain myself to no one. Moving on, so if we held a fight between you and Mouse of CGT? Let’s say, six 3 minute rounds cuz you're both out of shape. And the last round neither of you can use your arms. Be honest. Who gets KO'd and why? I want specific reasons to your argument.

TY: First off, I’m in pretty decent shape, old man.

X: Ah

TY: And I have a gigantic cranium—so if we can’t use our arms, I’ve basically got a battering ram attached to my neck.

X: You said it first.

TY: Plus, I’m not sure if Mouse has ever been in a fight before, and he’s—occasional ridiculousness aside—a pretty decent, polite and nonviolent human being, which gives me even more of an edge.

X: Five gets ya ten that little bastard has bashed a few dork skulls with a 20-sided die.

TY: Yeah I don’t know, though—maybe neither one of us would be able to defeat the other.

X: Don't backtrack.

TY: No, I sometimes get the feeling that he’s my exact opposite—that he’s the Bizarro World me or that I’m like the evil Spock’s beard universe version of him. Perhaps there’s an eternal balance thing at play here, and if we mess with it, it’ll be like that time Ron Silver melted into himself at the end of Timecop.

X: What the FLaRN are you talking about?

TY: OR… Mouse has always been wound pretty tight. I mean, this is a guy who literally shit so hard he imploded his fucking appendix. Who does that? Really? So it’s possible that I could make fun of him for loving Weezer one too many times and something could just snap inside his head on a snake-brain level and he’d go Squeaky Fromme on me.

X: Beware the silent types.

TY: I don’t know, X, I just don’t know. You’ve given me a lot to ponder here.

X: Uh huh

TY: Oh, who are we kidding? I’d kick his ass.

X: Thought so.  You don't fool me for a second.  Next question.  The few times I've spied you out at shows, you are quite the ladies man. Always with a dizzy dame.  Always well groomed and shorn. Always with the ladies flocking to you. Do you let these poor girls know right away that you have The Clap or do you wait until they're part of that illustrious club before you break the news?

TY: That’s cute.

X: Nothing to say on the subject, eh?  Fine.  Moving on. Who are your top 3 favorite ACTIVE local bands?

TW: The Henry Clay People will eternally be my No.1—those fuckers are all rock ‘n roll heart, and I am willing to wrestle you to the ground in the Satellite parking lot over this, old man.

X: Watch yourself, kyid.

TW: To me, they embody the best of straight-ahead, double guitar rock, and they love what they do enough not to try to insecurely hide behind cynicism or irony or hipster bullshit. Theirs is unabashed-love-of-music music, and I can’t get enough of it.

X: Meh.

TW: And the other two would be—list cheat ahead—a series of ties between Local Natives, Marvelous Toy, the Happy Hollows, Manhattan Murder Mystery, and Shadow Shadow Shade. I know, I know, you hate them all.

X: Don't put words in my mouth. That's not what i was going to say.

TW: You weren't going to say you hate them?  Really?

X: Actually I wasn't. I was going to say that I hope they all burst into fiery flarn flame.

TW: Oh. Right.  Sorry.

X: Especially that Marvelous Toy!  YOU HEARD ME HODUKEN!!!!  BEEN DUCKIN ME ALL MONTH!!!  THE FIX IS IN PALLY!!! In fact...there are quite a few bands on my shit-list right now.  I extend my hand and they slap it away.  I'm talkin to you P.P.!!  Yeah you heard me. I'll refrain from raising my tone cuz you're a dame and I don't disrespect dames.....unless they're present to defend themselves. 

TW: Ya ever think these bands ignore you for a reason?

X: What reason could that be?  I'm doing them a service.

TW: You're an old jerk.

X: An old jerk who cares.

TW: Anyway, those are my favorite local acts right now.

X: That's it??

TW: That new Manhattan Murder Mystery is probably the best L.A. full-length of 2011.

X: First time I've heard somebody say that.What originality.

TW: And, if I could also make mention of my three favorite bands or artists who are currently less than

active or are in a limbo-ish flux or hiatus, I’d say Radars to the Sky, the Red Cortez boys, and Aaron Kyle(Geronimo Getty/ Le Switch). That Kyle, he’s a fucking madman.

X: Another one who's duckin me! 

TW: Nobody likes you.

X: That's not true.

TW: Who likes you?

X: Lord Growing!

TW: He feels responsible for you.  There's a difference.

X: MOVING ON!! Who are your top 3 favorite local bands who have since disbanded?

TW: The Movies—Christ, what a perfect group they were.

X: If they were so perfect, how come they're broken up?

TW: Do ya mind? I'm in the middle of something here.

X: Just sayin

TW:  It’s easy to remember them just for Tim James’ Andy Kaufman-meets-Ian Curtis on-stage-isms, but for the people who were listening… those lyrics, those songs—goddamn. “Missed Opportunities.” “Secretariat.” “Creation Lake.” “Limousine.” There’s a lot of heart and soul and hurt in that band, as well as humor and edge and danger. For me, the Late Great L.A. Band. I’m sad to see Le Switch go. Their last album, and last year of increasingly barnburning live shows, were just perfect. At least they’re going out at the peak of their abilities, and Kyle’s doing Geronimo Getty now, but I’d have loved to see where they would have taken things next. As you may have noted, I have problems narrowing things down to just three, so this next one is bouncing back and forth between Castledoor and the Mezzanine Owls… I think I’ll go with Castledoor, since most of the Mezz Owls are still together in refashioned form. That Castledoor farewell show at Spaceland was special, very special.

X: Castledoor.  Their collective hairdos and wardrobes were somethin to admire.

TW: Seriously you gotta let me outta here, old man.  I think they're finishing.

X: It's fine, you still have at least two encores.  Moving on. Who, in your opinion, are the top 3 most overrated bands in Los Angeles?

TW: Odd Future. I just don’t get it. Energetic live shows and a ton of pseudo-philosophical exegeses and think-pieces are all great, but when they’re laid at the feet of a pretty mediocre or perfunctory hip hop record—like Tyler’s Goblin—it just gets a massive shrug from me. And don’t you give me that bullshit, X, about how if I like punk music, then I have to like Tyler’s nihilism-by-numbers shtick, too. Liking punk doesn’t excuse a ton of mediocre bands or artists that flood in a genre’s wake.

X: You'll get no argument from me.  But that Yonkers video is fun.  Admit it.

TW: No.  Now you know, I hate to jump on a bandwagon, and I really did enjoy her early singles, but damn, Best Coast has begun to get on my nerves. I saw BC at Coachella, and every song was a mid-tempo plodder about missing a boyfriend, wanting a boyfriend, being mad about a boyfriend, visiting a boyfriend or loving a boyfriend, and every line ended with the word “you,” until her last song, wherein she ditched rhyming the word ‘you’ against itself and simply devolved into a verse of ‘oooooooooo.’ Ridiculous. 

X: Now we're talkin, kid!!  I guess its time to--

TW:She does a mean Leslie Gore cover, though.

X: And just when I was about to uncuff you.

TW: What?

X: Nothing. Go on.

TW: And I don’t really understand Foster the People. Maybe I’m getting old, I dunno.

X: Trust your inner FLaRN radar.  You're right on!!!  Next.  If you could interview any Los Angeles artist no matter how big or small who would it be?

TW: That depends on your definition of L.A. artist… Are we talking born and bred in L.A.? Or just someonewho came to prominence in town? 

X: I don't know, you bastard.  Just answer the question.

TW: Because Arthur Lee of Love would be an amazing talk, or maybe Gram Parsons—despite both being, you know, dead— but neither came from L.A. I think Jim Morrison was from Florida, Roger McGuinn and John Doe are both from Illinois. Elliott Smith only lived here for three of four years. Jeff Buckley was born in Orange County, but I think is more associated with the East Village scene. But those would be some that initially come to mind, assuming life and death weren’t limitations on most of ‘em, yet they’re not exactly according-to-Hoyle L.A. boys. So I guess that leaves me with Brian Wilson.

X: I tell you that you can interview anyone and you give me Brian Wilson?

TW: Or maybe Dee Dee of the Dum Dum Girls, if only because, if God is good, she’s my future ex-wife.

X:  Well  she sure as hell wouldn't be a good interview because of her music.  Maybe if she's single I'll give you a pass. Moving on. To what extent do you agree with my conclusion that Los Angeles is a dead-star-black-hole-wasteland teeming with vile musical putrescence?

TW: Obviously not a lot, hotshot. I think only two groups of people think that about the L.A. music scene that we both traffic in—music writers not in L.A., who equate local music with Whitesnake and Linkin Park and the Sunset strip, and local bands who haven’t made it and are still pissing blood over the fact that Silversun and Airborne got signed instead of them.

X: I piss blood because my prostate is the size of a goddamn pomegranate.  And I blame T.A(in)T.E. for that.  Their music has carcinogenic element in it that are recognized by the state of FLaRnida to cause Cancer of the soul.  Those bastards give Cancer to Cancer.

TW: Whatever you say.  I think LA's pretty damn vibrant—on any given night, there’s likely to be at least one new favorite band playing at the myriad of venues you have to choose from. There’s just so much music of so many different types of music and bands to discover. I love it, I really love it.

X: You sicken me. 

TW: I can hear the encore, man. Please lemme at least catch the last song.

X: Wait.....we're not quite finished.....

TW: Jesus Christ, TO HELL WITH THE LIGHTNING ROUND!!!!

X: See?  Now that hurts, Hippie.  Don't you enjoy this time we're spending together.

TW: You took a shit earlier. 

X: I thought that, given my age, that would be the one thing you could count on while doing an interview with me. 

TW: Let's just get this over with.

X: The Airborne Toxic Event: underrated OR aural anus herpes?

Ah, come on. Seeing as how they’re doing pretty well, released two records, toured the world a couple

times over, and been the subject of a documentary, I think I’d be hard pressed to call them underrated

at this point. 

X: Its only serving its purpose as Anti-anus-herpes. Not because I actually believe they could actually be underrated.  Who do you think you're talking to.

TW: It’s funny that some people hate them for, what, being catchy? Sounding like their

influences? 

X: Being phony.  But actually....to give them a break, I will admit.  My hatred is misguided.  I should be pointing my ire toward the people who are actually buying their concert tickets and their albums.  

TW: They’re a rock band that plays ear-candy. And that’s ok.

X: If you're gonna go with ear candy, might as well make it GOOD ear candy.  That FLaRN leaves a lemon-lime poop aftertaste in my ears!

TW: So my answer is--neither. They’re a catchy band that plays new-wavy rock and pop, not a harbinger of rock ‘n roll Armageddon. That’s what bands like Neon Trees are for. You want aural anal herpes, try catching Neon Trees sometime. It’s just viciously bad.

X: GODDAMN IT!! But see that's the point.  Neon Trees.  Who the FLARN are Neon Trees?  I wouldn't have half as much of a problem with Airborne if they were as obscure as NEON FLARNING TREES!!!  Ugh!  Moving on.  Bronson: local journalistic legend OR old balls?

TW: That Bronson, man—he’s like a cyborg or something. The guy’s dedication to the local scene is prettygoddamn herculean, though I’ve caught him badmouthing Archers of Loaf enough, and shrugging at Pavement enough, to know that our tastes don’t always align. So you might not always agree with him, but you’ve gotta respect the guy’s passion. So I’ll go with local journo legend; but I must present the caveat that I’ve not seen his balls, so I can’t really confirm or deny that they’re old. I mean, this is L.A., he could’ve had work done.

X: Touche, Hippie.   Moving on.  Lord Growing: drunken samurai OR drunken drunkard?

TW: That guy’s a good writer. 

X: Don't encourage him. 

TW: I don’t know him that well at all, though. We started to talk at one show—I think maybe it was the Movies tribute show?—but I drank far too many Jack and Cokes that night and I think I ended up wandering off outside and talking to Claire from Shadow Shadow Shade about what would happen if Lindsay Lohan was in a Switchblade Sisters kind of prison brawl and armed only with a broken broomstick. That kind of night. So I can’t answer that with any kind of efficacy… so I’ll say samurai. He seemed nice enough.

X: He's a bastard.  Next question. And this one's important.  Hater X: Mad genius OR best thing to ever happen to you?

TW: I do get a kick out of your bubble-popping, but I’m not sure that makes you a mad genius, and since Lou Reed was the best thing to ever happen to me, I’m afraid this question will go forever unanswered. Or, rather, ‘no’ to both.

X: Lou Rawls is the best thing that ever happened to you?

TW: No not--

X: It's ok to admit it. 

TW: Fine.  Yes. Lou Rawls.

X: Moving on!  Classical Geek Theatre: Flim-Flammer OR domesticated pet rapist?

TW: Hm. He’s not a flim-flammer, and he does seem oddly attached to that cat of his. Is he one of those people that dresses his cat up in little clothes? God, he is, isn’t he?

X: I think his cats have Colts jerseys. 

TW: Pet rapist.

X: Bingo!!!  Next!!  Manhattan Murder Mystery: local barbarian legends OR swamp dwelling hillbillies?

TW: Both, both. Matthew Teardrop’s like this weird merging of Falstaff and Lyle Alzado. But, you know, with a guitar.

X: Last but not least.....Harold Arlen: great songwriter or greatest songwriter?

TW: Please. Arlen had “Over the Rainbow,” sure, but George Gershwin wrote a goddamn opera of great tunes. I mean, he had “Summertime.” I’d take that over Arlen any day.

X: What the hell did you just say?  

TW: Now cmon old man.  Lemme outta here. 

X: Funny thing about keys.....they don't swim too well. 

TW: Fine fine fine!!!  Don't do whatever it is you're thinking.  Harold Arlen is the greatest songwriter to ever live. 

X: That's more like it.