Super Sleepy Animals

Not the band: me, at the show, upstairs, sleeping.

The band was great -- very psychedelic, great light show, swapping between guitar-heavy blasts and synth licks, some feigned harmonies and tricked out licks. And they write damn good songs, too: songs that stick as they're sung, swirling and licking and hitting. Hard.

But it wasn't enough to fight off the staves of sleep, so that was me: sitting in between Roxanne and Rachel R., asleep.

Opener Caribou? Roxanne's client, and also fantastic -- post rock squalls and walls of keys, mostly, again with the psychededlic cartoon videos and nonsensical xylophone fills. Didn't sleep through them.

Then: Music Biz cornocopia, across the street for the Subways and Steve Aioki's birthday. I need to meet this Steve Aioli.

I also found out that one of my comrades in rock-arms is no longer with her job. Instead, she joins the peace corps. To actually make some difference in the world.

She's nobler than I.

The Subways are the Last Big Thing

So last night was the first Spaceland evening in a while -- dressed in my new orange kicks, my Greg Storms jacket, and the Oceanic shirt to fit in, since I was seeing the O.C.'s favorite next-big-thing, The Subways.

Steve K. lives stumbling/rolling/walking distance from the club now, in one of those dope silverlake pads with a picture window. Glad to know someone in the hood for sure. Had a beer, went to the club.

In the corner: Greg S., who used to play with beck, and his A&R rep girlfriend. Todd N. and Rick G. sittin' up front. Music bizzers.

But lots of "indie" fans as well. And, like the band, they're mostly style, little substance. I mean, I get off on watching an enthusiastic, cute blonde bassist as much as anyone, but the sound is just raw raunchy rock. Nothing overwhelming. And "Rock and Roll Queen," while the best song the Vines never recorded, ain't gonna break down any barriers.

I guess that's not the point. The point is to sing along.

Caught up with Bronson on the way out, who felt the same as me. And he's got good taste. So I'm comfortable I'm not just being naive.

But someone thinks they're the Next Big Thing. And more power to them.

Sneaking into the Symphony

...is what B. and I did last night. But we couldn't sneak into Fiona. Hmmm.

Chalk one up for us, though.