1. Beachside engagement session fun! CONGRATULATIONS to Eliza and Justin!!  <3 

     
  2. STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES.

    Barrie Rose is girl power, a mystic mama, angel voice, wild, free dancing queen.

    She is gold and she is magic. 

    New music coming to fruition soon! 

     
  3. CHRISTIAN at the LOTUS FESTIVAL

     
  4. EVENING

     
  5. Skate day with Criminal Hygiene’s Sean Erickson 

     
  6. Sax genius Frank Silva is off to Europe. Wishing safe travels and swift returns

     

  7. BATWINGS CATWINGS

    THE SMELL 

    Feb. 28th

    Here we are standing on the concrete floor in the main room of The Smell,  only a few feet away from the fierce front-woman Dana Poblete of Batwings Catwings. She begins to  deliver unrelenting vocals that hail over driving guitar sounds and energetic drums that trash and tear up beats to commence a post-punk dance party. The audience of young people seem to feel  part of the performance experience as some kids frivolously hurl their bodies around in random bombarding expressions and some sing along.

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     ”Let’s resume the workout,” Dana encourages, as one song ends and a new (equally emotive) one begins.  At one point a guy from the audience comes up and places a shiny, plastic Mardi Gras necklace around her neck, which doesn’t phase her a bit.  

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    "It’s really awkward to perform in rain boots" she admits at one point, but from an audience member’s take in of her, and the bands collective energy, there seems to be no evidence of awkwardness whatsoever. An engaging and evocative experience, nicely done BWCW! 

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    The second band, The Flytraps comes on and three gals clad in black (clearly seasoned rockstars)  with guitars and bass share center stage in front of a drummer. I get the vibe (more in stylistic presence rather then musically speaking) of the 70’s rock group The Runaways.  In the middle of their set one of the guitar ladies nonchalantly climbs on top of her amp to play. Now don’t get me wrong, this sort of thing has been done before, and I typically wouldn’t take note of it,  but she seriously pulls it off. A  seamless transition takes place as she confidently commands control of her guitar and shreds above her audience,  who get even more revved up at this sight. Some fan guys are thrashing and most people are at least aggressively bobbing as the girls trade off vocal parts and collectively deliver a charged up, gritty supply of rock. 

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    Inside Oakland’s beloved TWIN STEPS continue the dance party and later BEACH PARTY slay the room to pieces.

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    Outside, between bands I stand conversing in a group of some of the local town legends. Nicholas Ventura (guitarist of HOTT MT) playfully announces he is my editor as he snatches my mini yellow notepad. Holding back the laughs,  he attempts to read the scribbled (almost indecipherable) sentence: 

    "when she gets on guitar amp, some bands make moves like this and it seems cliché  but she got a nonchalant indifference.” 

    Mind you- I was penning this in the dark amongst an angsty crowd

    He pointedly poses the question, “is it possible to do something CHALANTLY?”

    Walt Gorecki (of- walt! productions, former Homeroom operator) raises a brow in intrigued amusement. Miram Brummel (Even Keel imagery) chuckles with a nod of curiosity. 

    None of us know the answer, so Nick looks it up on his phone and quickly delivers a definition via Urbandictionary.com. Chalant means to have “extreme concern about an object”.  SO THERE YOU GO. We all learned something tonight. 

    To put it use, I am chalantly sorry for accidentally stealing the very notepad and pen that I jotted down notes on from The Smell.  In conclusion, Thank you sincerely to the owner and operator Jim Smith for making this article possible, and for continuing to maintain the environment for raucous shows like this one to thrive on and lead us to enjoy  truly unique experiences.

    WORDS- BARRIE ROSE

    PHOTOS- MIRIAM BRUMMEL

     

     

  8. THE WEEZER CRUISE 2014

    My first Weezer concert was the Pinkerton record release show in 1996 at Tower Records on Sunset Blvd. Eighteen years and dozens of shows later, I boarded my second Weezer Cruise along with 14 badass rock bands, 3 gonzo comedians, and tons of bootlegged booze, headed out to international waters for a Valentine’s Day Weekend in the Bahamas.

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    It’s difficult to describe the Weezer Cruise without breaking the Vegas code. This is what i’ve come up with:

    Truthfully, my excitement for the Weezer Cruise didn’t begin until I stood jet-lagged and groggy at the JAX airport baggage carousel, and saw Doug Benson get off my flight, stoned as fuck. That was the moment it dawned on me, I was in for a very, very good time…


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    With the worst southern storm in recent memory threatening the Jacksonville area I bundled up in the airport until finally meeting up with some of the Ozma gang.

    We got to the Wyndham Riverwalk hotel, where the party was already well underway. Hipster geeks rubbed elbows while smells of vomit permeated the hotel lobby, and the bar’s carpet stuck to your shoes. After the fatigue of the flights, it was a jarring reality check that the debauchery had only just begun.

    The next day we boarded the board our vessel, the Carnival Fascination. Excitement rising with each person who boarded.

    The Orwells kicked off the fun on the Lido Deck. Though not yet of drinking age, frontman Mario Cuomo commanded the attention of everyone on the Lido Deck with his lovable angsty antics.



    Then the captain himself, Rivers Cuomo, played an intimate “Alone” set, inviting a handful of fans to sing songs with him on stage. His family watched from nearby while Weezer’s “fifth member” Karl Koch meticulously documented the special moment, which ended with a group hug.

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    Later we all wished Weezer a happy birthday, some of us triple-fisting the free mystery cocktails of ungodly colors.

    Toro Y Moi got the dance party started for the night that (despite bars closing down) had only just begun.

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    Spirits ran high, as did the hangover the next day. But all of us from the Ozma crew rallied early to participate in 10 a.m. yoga with Star. With some delay, we finally reached Freeport, Grand Bahama. The most picturesque tourist trap you’ve ever seen.

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    After an avid hunt for masks for the Masquerade theme that night, we opted to get back on the boat early to enjoy the hot tub usually obnoxiously filled with inebriated cruisemates.

    With the rise of the full moon over the ocean on Valentine’s Day, things were bound to get wacky. Ozma got the crowd all riled up for the rest of the night.

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    Weezer brought it home with all of the classic crowdpleasers and even introduced a new song, “Back to the Shack.”

    After catching a couple songs of Diiv and The Cribs, I found myself back at the bar to catch The Orwells once again. The young Chicago studs oozing sexual tension upped the punk vibe in the casino, where all the best shows happened — in parts because of the intimacy of the space and proximity to the bar.

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    Late night escapades and absurdity included Ozma family dinner and wild wind mini-golf. The late night turned into early morning room service and after minimal sleep, some sauna yoga with Star.

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    Then, 1500 hung over fans trying to get off one boat, onto another smaller ferryboat, and onto an island in the abrasive sun. Not a pretty sight. Locals yelling out trying to sell water. Did I say abrasive sun?

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    Cat Power and her band arrived just in time to bring some fresh energy and catch the next ferry out to the most bizarre private island with stands selling $20 sunscreen and a VIP bar tended by Bahama local Sean who quickly became everyone’s favorite.

    Unwavered by some technical difficulties, Chan Marshall hit her stride performing her dreamy melodies with the babeliest of babes backing her up.

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    Weezer then played each band member’s own favorite songs and an especially fitting, near surreal rendition of Island In The Sun.

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    Huge beach balls were tossed out into the crowed by the band’s children. Chan herself found volleying balls into the crowd. Rivers’ daughter, Mia confidently joined the stage on keyboards for a song.

    After shade and three of the Sean specials (DADT what’s in that shit), I hopped back on the ferry while Weezer blasted simultaneously on both the vessel’s radio, and onstage on the island.

    With a disco nap and a beer for dinner, I donned my wig and leather skirt for metal night.

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    Ash, with their power anthems, and Caveman, with their jangly grooves, kicked off the evening fun. A line wrapped down the grand staircase and into the bar on the next floor 45 minutes before Ozma set in the main room. They owned the room, with fans continuing to chant “Ozma Cruise! Ozma Cruise!” Big thanks to Caveman for returning Ozma’s rider.

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    I then had my first introduction to Holyf*ck. While not up on my electronica, I was thoroughly impressed by their pulsating beats made by toys, analog film reel contraptions, and effects pedals I’d never seen before. Sincere apologies for grazing on your Stella and Jameson, boys. Oops! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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    Later that night was maybe the best karaoke dance party I’ve ever been to, run by Jose Galvez from Ozma. I belted with Kenn Shane on Ace of Base and Jenn Clavin from Bleached closed out the party with her rendition of Toxic:

    The after hour run around the boat ended in Pat Wilson’s party suite, hanging with all the pretty young things ‘til the wee hours.

    The final day was spent drifting at sea.

    I got my ass down the huge water slide, only mingled through the “Putt-putt with Pat” [Wilson] and the workout with Scott [Shriner]. Some fans already dawning their superhero garb during the Q & A with the band.

    And only on the Weezer Cruise would you hear the entire Lido deck belting Foo Fighters’ Everlong as it blasted on the speakers.

    The evening’s hilarity started with comedians Jacob Sirof, Doug Benson, and Adam Devine in the main theater. Tears from belly laughs rolled down my face.

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    All of the performances on the last night were especially charged with a tangible fervor.

    Holyf*ck’s set more intense than the last, and Brooklyn babies Diiv brought the daydream soundscapes topped off with an emotive Cat Power cover.

    Bleached, fronted by favorite LA Smell scene darlings Jenn and Jessie Clavin (former Mika Miko sisters), played their last set particularly glammed and amped up.

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    The crescendo of the last night was Ozma’s final set, which culminated as they were joined onstage by Ash, the Cribs, and several fans and comedians for a nutso cover of The Rentals hit “Friends of P.”

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    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipoLH4gB-xw

    Rivers, in full superhero costume, came out to give high fives to the band after their set. And the after party just kept goin’ thru the night, ‘til it was literally time to disembark the boat and face US Customs agents.

    Still intoxicated on the high that is the Weezer Cruise, and maybe some of the previous night’s booze, we did the zombie-walk through the JAX security checkpoint, still so stoked on the magic.

    Nothing beats running down halls slapping the ass of a rock star, or walking around day and night with an ice cream cone in your hand. Hard to say whether the weeklong friendships or romances will last beyond, but I for one am still trying to harness the high energy culture that was created on the boat. It’s best summed up in the hypercolor t-shirt they were selling, with 8 inch tall letters that read “I’M ON THE WEEZER CRUISE, BITCH!”

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