I was all over downtown last night. First I stopped into the pirate-themed Redwood bar to knock back a Jameson or two and hear Peachfuzz. They were label-mates with me once upon a time, on Teenacide Records. Power pop svengali Jim Freek and his whole crew of young and not-so-young women were there too, sitting in booths under cutlasses and various weathered rigging to watch the spectacle and do a little DJ’ing. Though the microphones were really really muddy (which means we couldn’t really hear or understand Andrew’s loverly lyrics), Peachfuzz played one amazing song after another, and they ended up doing two encores, including a Damned cover.
A few minutes later, over at “The Ramp” (aka that dingy warehouse with the skate ramp in it near the Greyhound Bus Station), the Warlocks were playing some caveman rock for the masses. Actually, there wasn’t really a packed crowd, and I’m not sure if that speaks to a lack of youthful fandom or a lack of advertisement (this may have been a “secret show,” since it wasn’t listed on the Walocks webpage, but then again, everybody seemed to know about it). But there was plenty of room near the stage for bearded dudes who kind of looked like Jason Reitman to hold onto their way-too-hot girlfriends and sway hynotically to that famous Warlock drone.
The Warlocks are one of my favorite L.A. bands of all time, but the last time I saw them play, at Safari Sam’s (with the Lords of Altamont!), they actually really sucked and kind of bored me. Last night they were back in top form. You can always tell when the Warlocks are hitting you right, because you feel totally high even though your alcohol buzz is dying off and you haven’t done drugs since your dealer went to jail. They played some old faves as well as a few tunes from the last two albums, which I don’t have, but whatever, it was still pretty incredible. Not as incredible as this, though: