Organ. Trombone. Saucy redhead. Pair with soul-stirring performances of insightful music and you have the experience that is Ruby Friedman Orchestra. I first saw RFO at the Bordello Bar in downtown over 2 years ago. I fell in love immediately. Being transported by raw and penetrating verse can do that to a girl.
Last week I went to see RFO perform at The Hotel Cafe on the eve of their entry into the studio to record their debut album. It was a stripped-down acoustic set that packed a full Ruby punch.
The fact that they still have not released an album has been a source of consternation for me since that night at the Bordello. Every time I check their Facebook page I gasp, "Still?!?!" When will they appease the frothing masses? (Read: the frothing me.) Apparently, Summer 2012. They are waiting until 6 months before the end of the world to release their debut album. Honey badger doesn't give a shit. (Ruby would be the honey badger in this scenario.)
I have heard that good things come to those who wait. In this instance, I'm inclined to believe it. Here's a little something from last week's show to hold us over.
Most of you know that I joined a country band, The Hixters, last year. Best. Decision. Ever. It has brought nothing but fun and love into my life. This post is not about the Hixters, but don't worry, I will be writing a lot more about us in the future. This post is about a friend I met through the Hixters: the handsome, sweet, funny, and yes - talented - Justin Carter.
Justin has a voice. Does he ever have a voice. He has been a contestant on American Idol, Star Search, and X Factor, but this year he decided to do his own thing. Best. Decision. Ever. Here is the video for his song "Circles" which was released after Christmas...
I played the keys for Justin on Sunday during his performance for talent manager Mara Santino's birthday party at the W Hotel.
{ Me and Justin at the Dub }
Now, I have always appreciated the W for sharing the lovely and talented Hollywood jazz maven Brenna Whitaker with this town every Sunday night (for free) and I don't want to bite the hand that feeds me, as it were, but wow. The sound guys were awful to us! They had all the equipment to accommodate us, but insisted on giving us a hard time. "We weren't told there would be performers." "We weren't told there would be a keyboard." I wanted to ask them if they refuse to use an umbrella when they were not told it would rain. I wanted to follow that question with something akin to "Roll with the punches, people! You're supposed to be professionals!" However, I held my tongue because I recall hearing something once about getting more flies with honey than vinegar. Sigh.
Justin, being what rock stars are made of, handled himself amazingly well and brought down the house.
His next performance will be at the Viper Room on January 21st. If you are in town, you want to be there! You can follow him on Facebook here and subscribe to his YouTube channel here.
I am at the end. At the end of a Tom Waits kind of week.
Today's Bedhead Theater offering is Mr. Wait's "Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis." It comes to you raw and after a 3am kind of night. My beautiful friend Matt Tomas is helping out on piano, so this is Bedhead Theater's very first special guest! Exciting developments, no?
I had intended this song to be a Christmas present for Matt and if you can look past the fact that it is a month late and Matt had to help me wrap it, I suppose it is. Merry Christmas, Matt.
I just watched High Fidelity for the first time in a long time. Ah, John Cusack. No one does strung out better.
High Fidelity is all music and lists. So many lists in that movie. My favorite list (although not itemized and only a list of 3 instead of the movie's standard "Top 5 All Time Favorite" lists) is Jack Black's character's 3 band names at the end of the movie: Sonic Death Monkey, Kathleen Turner Overdrive, and Barry Jive and his Uptown 5.
My friend Patrick has a similar "problem" deciding on a band name. In his last 3 shows he performed as Skinny P and the Destroyers; Skinny P and the Birthday Bash; and Skinny P and the Handicaps. (See My Talented Friends Part One.)
Band names are fun, but so darn hard to choose. You want the name to reflect the music, but also the personality of the band members while making sure that it is memorable and of course, clever in some groupie-procuring way.
Do you remember being asked how many kids you wanted when you yourself were a kid? Your answer would be directly correlated to the number of baby names you thought were cool. "I want 6... Peter, Parker, Posey, Punxsutawney, and Bob." If I could start as many bands as I have cool names to name them, I would have 4 bands:
The Sister Karamazov
Fifths and Giggles
Color Me Wicked
Whole Notes from the Underground
Originally, I had 5, but the 5th was "Tequila Mockingbird" which I thought was so clever. Yeah. It turns out that there are bands, restaurants, bars, and design companies with the same name. Not so clever after all. Thanks a lot, Google. I was feeling pretty good about myself today.
Yesterday's Bedhead Theater selection was brought to you by "a growing headache, a fading warmth, a sense of regret that should be stronger than it is, and a recurring apocalyptic dream."
Today's selection is brought to you by "OMG, I did karaoke last night for the second time in my life and it may have been a little too fun to not do again. Who have I become?" And if you're thinking that the title of this post means that I did Bohemian Rhapsody during the aforementioned karaoke night, you would be right. I also did Santeria by Sublime. It went a little somethin' like this:
For my first post of 2012 I was going to list the things I learned in 2011. However, despite all of the amazing experiences 2011 granted me, I could only think of one: I learned in the women's locker room at the YMCA that I fully support cosmetic surgery, specifically breast lifts. Other than that, I'm drawing a blank.
So, instead of rehashing all the glory and pain that was 2011, I'm going to start something new. Now, everyone knows it's not cool to make New Year's resolutions, so I'm not going to. Because I am the coolest person you'll find. For realz, yo! Chickety check it. (See?)
This is not a resolution, it's just something new: Bedhead Theater. For those of you who have been reading my blog since the beginning, you know I love music, but have a discorded love/hate relationship with my own music. I can go for days without even touching my keyboard. In an effort to change that, I offer you Bedhead Theater. Every morning I will wake up, roll out of bed and immediately record myself singing and playing a song. PJs and all. No procrastination allowed.
I probably won't be sharing every video I make, but I will try to have 2 or 3 a week that are watchable enough to present to my esteemed readers.
Numero Uno: my slow morning spin on "Boston" by Augustana.
This is perhaps the most delayed post of all the delayed posts in all the blogs in all the world. I first saw Brother Sal & The Devil May Care weeks ago. I jaunted down to the Piano Bar one Sunday night in October to find Mr. Brother and his blues-meets-country band delivering their "warehouse gospel" to the many delighted souls crammed into the bar.
I knew immediately that I wanted to tell the world (or, you know, the two of you that read this blog) about my new discovery: Brother Sal, the ivory-tinkling, husky-voiced troubadour from Virginia. However, as the two of you know, I did not. I have gone to see Brother Sal again since that night in October I still did not write about it.
Here's the problem: I just get too damn busy having a good time. Too busy reveling in the melodies and effect of the songs to pay attention to the titles and specific content so I can accurately detail them here. Too busy dancing to adjust my camera settings, so I end up with blurred pictures like these:
{ The ghost-like figure on the right is Michael Starr, an amazing fiddler. His fiddling deserves its own post. }
Brother Sal has a gift. A gift in which my ears and my bootie delight. However, as with all gifts, it comes with a curse. Well, a curse on this blog anyway. His gift disarms and distracts until I am left with only memories of good times and warm impressions of the experience. I suppose as the South did to the North, I will have to cede to the old adage, "Details be damned." That is an old adage, right?
So, there you have it. A half-assed review of a full-assed band. Full and round and firm. As all good asses should be. I'm speaking metaphorically, of course.
Wednesday night I grabbed my new friend Amy and went to see a friend of a friend's band at Three of Clubs. Upon our arrival we were greeted with $4 whiskey specials and this:
Yeah.
Dayna, the aforementioned friend of a friend, is a trumpet player. I love seeing bands with different instrumentation, so when I got the Facebook invite from her band Alright Alright I decided that it could be an interesting show. These images on their profile didn't hurt either.
With an energetic frontman and tight arrangements, they did not disappoint. Amy and I were treated to a night of hopping, hip-popping, fun music.
I really, really wanted to get up and dance because it was dancing music, but the $4 whiskey failed me. No one else was dancing and I just don't have that "first on the dance floor" gene. This round goes to you, self-consciousness.
{ Amy. And people not dancing. }
Now, I knew that Dayna is a trumpeteer - or as Alright Alright's Facebook page explains, she is the "blast". What I didn't know is that she is a triple threat:
{ "Blast" }
{ Keys }
{ Back-up Vocals }
Oh, wait. Make that - a quadruple threat.
{ Shaker, baby. }
I'm a sucker for harmonies and redheads. Alright Alright happens to have two redheads. The other redhead is A Girl Named Ryan who contributes killer harmonies. The girl can really sing. She can rock a mean beat on the tambourine as well.
Before I get back into the Los Angeles music scene, I want to tell you about a little taste of the Boston music scene I had while on my latest trip back east.
In August while at my friend Shirley's wedding, I was seated at a table with a lovely and - as it turns out - talented couple, Rachel Arnold and Bo Barringer. Rachel is from California living in Massachusetts. My husband Dan is from Massachusetts living in California. When you're at a wedding where you only know a few people, that is enough to get a conversation going. Am I right or am I right? Right, right, right. (Name that movie.)
Rachel and Bo are musicians who happened to be playing a show in Boston right around the time we were planning on being there for another friend's wedding. (Oh, the age where everyone you know is either getting married or having a baby.) October rolled around and we were lucky enough to make it to their show with our friend Dan in tow.
For future reference:
{Husband Dan}
{Friend Dan}
The band, The Wrong Shapes, consists of Rachel playing the cello and Bo playing the guitar and singing. It was a unique - and considering that there was no percussion - a surprisingly rhythmic show.
Here is a clip of one of their songs that was stuck in my head for days. (Rachel does some really cool things on the cello that my lame phone mic does not do justice.)
The show was on a Tuesday night that proved to be anything but mundane. Not only was the music intriguing, the crowd was entertainment all on its own. One guy was so drunk that he was stumbling around the bar knocking over people and things - including a keyboard while it was being played on stage. Did I mention that he was 6'5" and 350+ pounds? He actually rammed into us moments before this picture was taken. We recovered nicely, no?
{Me, Bo, Rachel, Husband Dan}
Another guy was asleep at the bar When he woke up he lit a cigarette, which is of course illegal. Later in the night the lead singer of the band that was on after Rachel and Bo started flailing and tried to jump off the stage, but ended up shattering one of the black lights they had set up and falling flat on his face on the floor in front of the stage.
Friend Dan didn't miss a beat. He casually retrieved his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of the guy face down on the floor. I was not as quick on my feet. Maybe that's because I was helping friend Dan celebrate his recent job offer by drinking lots of vodka and beer. When a friend needs help, I help.
So, there you have it. A Tuesday night in Boston. Who knew?
Welcome to part three of the "My Talented Friends" series! Today I will tell you about Rachel Lynn Sebastian. You may remember Rachel from my Starry, Starry Night post.
Rachel is my opposite in almost every way. She is upbeat and optimistic. My nickname is Worst-Case-Scenario Girl. Rachel is a focused and driven musician who works seemingly unabated toward her goals. I gave up on music after a couple bookers were mean to me. She is spiritual. I cringe at the word "hallelujah." She is open. I am certified in masonry (the wall-building type, not the Grand Lodge type).
Perhaps because she is so opposite, I am very grateful to know her. I learn something from Rachel every time I see her. And I love it. Her joie de vivre is nothing short of inspiring.
Sunday night Dan and I went to see Rachel perform at the Room 5 Lounge.
The intimate atmosphere was a perfect setting for her engaging style. She performed with transparency and unrestrained emotion to the packed room - even inviting us to sing along - which of course made me very uncomfortable. Someone is reaching out to me? Avoid! Protect!
Now, Rachel is not all bubbles and sunshine. She performed her song 'Don't Touch Me' with fierceness and even anger, but she seems to have mastered the art of channeling life's kicks into song and weeding the effects of those kicks out of everyday life.
As Rachel mentioned in the above video, she wrote that song in Korea. And speaking of Korea, here is a video of Rachel rocking a cover while there. I have watched it about 10 times already. This girl embodies a daring charisma on stage that I can only dream of harnessing.
You can check out more of her music here. Rachel also teaches voice and performance. If you are interested, check our her website here.
So, here's hoping that some of Rachel will rub off on me. Cheers.
After writing my first ever potentially controversial post yesterday, Dan and I went to Pasadena for a day of $2 movies. I saw Super 8 (awesome) and Mr. Popper's Penguins (I know, I know. $2 bucks, though!) I found myself a little uncomfortable as I was watching Jim Carry get pooped on by a penguin - and not just because I was watching Jim Carry get pooped on by a penguin. I was fidgeting in my seat because I was worried about upsetting someone with my views on the whole Sunset Junction Music Festival debacle. You see, I'm a people-pleaser. That's a whole other post.
As I fidgeted my way back to Hollywood I found myself wishing that I had the soothing sound of Jaime Black to accompany me home. I discovered Jaime Black last week when I walked with a friend to The Piano Bar on a whim. They have free music every night of the week and we were in the mood for some free and some music.
We were greeted with the sound of Jaime's soft voice and ethereal melodies. I would describe her music as "yoga folk." This is not usually my cup of tea, but her calming presence on stage coupled with unexpected instrumentation made for an engaging night of music.
Jaime's ReverbNation page describes her genre as "gothic folk." I love that. Although I feel the recordings online do not do justice to her live performance, they do retain the calming effect.
As you can see from the photo above, The Piano Bar is a cool little spot. Would you like to see more photos of the space? Why don't we start in the bathroom.
{ Very cool music sheet wall with a little added love. }
Ok, I may have only taken 3 photos, 2 of which were in the bathroom. Sorry about that. I promise to be a better blogger in the future. While you wait, check out Jaime's gothic/yoga/folk here.
The winds of the internet blow a cruel, cruel tale. "LA Denies Permit for Sunset Junction Music Festival." Unsurprisingly, it's all about money. According to The Wall Street Journal, the festival owes the city money for last year's festival and over a hundred thousand dollars in advance fees for this year's festival - the one that is supposed to take place THIS weekend.
The festival has been around for 30 years and is produced by the Sunset Junction Alliance, a non-profit that uses all the proceeds from the annual festival on programs for at-risk youth (including gang intervention) in the neighborhood where the festival takes place.
I was astonished to read that up until a couple of years ago, the festival fees were around $25,000. Why the sudden change? Could it be the increasing number of attendees and the sale of alcohol... or could it be Andrea Alarcon? She was appointed to LA's Board of Public Works in September of 2009 and is the administrator for the Special Events Permitting Office. Apparently, in the past the city waived some of the festival's fees, but since the advent of Miz Alarcon, it's all or nothing.
The Wall Street Journal reported that Alarcon cited the cost of extra police officers and a 2009 ordinance forbidding waiver of fees. Although the festival organizers offered to pay $50,000, Alarcon was quoted as saying that if they do not come up with all of this year's fees in advance, the city will not be willing to reconsider "the item." The "item" being a major fundraising source for the at-risk youth of her city, not to mention an important and historical artistic event.
Issues such as these are complicated and I don't want to create a bad guy, but it does make me wonder: Would this would this be happening if Leslie Knope were in charge instead?
I leave it to you to decide. If you want to help by donating some moolah to the cause, click here.
(Information gathered from TheWrap.com, The Wall Street Journal, SunsetJunction.org, and LACity.org.)
I haven't written in a few days because I have been out of town for a friend's wedding in Sonoma County. It was an enchanted affair with music, food, music, friends, music, and more music. Think: Rachel Getting Married sans the suicidal Anne Hathaway.
This second edition of the "My Talented Friends" series will focus on the bride, the very talented Shirley Hunt. Shirley is a cellist that plays with such orchestras as Philharmonia Baroque, American Bach Soloists, Berkeley Symphony, Napa Valley Symphony, and her "band" Agave Baroque - just to name a few.
I met Shirley around 5 years ago at a Halloween party that she attended as Frida Kahlo. (I was unimpressively dressed as a hippie. Yeah, she won that one.) At the time I happened to be looking for a cellist to join my band. A friend had suggested that cello would fit perfectly into my dark, melodic style of songwriting. As luck would have it, Miz Kahlo was willing to bestow her immense talents on my little project.
Shirley was nothing short of a miracle. Her natural ear for filling pockets with beautiful and haunting sound was a priceless addition to my songs. Nothing can last forever, however, and I lost her to San Francisco. Although saddened by her departure, I could not deny that Northern California and Shirley's then boyfriend Aaron Westman, violist extraordinaire, were treating her well. I was not surprised when the word came that she and Aaron were tying the knot.
{ We are standing on steps. If you switched Aaron and Shirley's positions, you'd have it a little closer to reality. }
The wedding reflected Shirley and Aaron perfectly in that it was filled with music. Several pieces were played during the ceremony and then after cocktail hour we were treated to a concert performed by - to use wine country vernacular - varietals of their musician friends.
{ A baroque piece... I think. }
{ Covering The Magnetic Fields' The Book of Love. Brilliant. }
Understandably, neither Shirley nor Aaron performed. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Agave Baroque will soon bring them back to LA for a show or two. Until then, reminiscing and Youtubing will have to suffice. Click here to see Shirley playing a solo piece. Click here to see Shirley and Aaron playing together in Agave Baroque.
Club Spaceland.Every music fan in LA has heard of it.Most have loved it.Club Spaceland was a music venue in Silver Lake that offered stellar (ahem) bands nightly.It was one of the few clubs in LA that you could walk into any night of the week and be guaranteed to see some great music.The bookers at Spaceland appeared more concerned with the quality of the music than the number of fans the band could get through the door.Of course, as a result there were always plenty of fans streaming steadily through the aforementioned door.
My favorite Spaceland element (ahem again) was the free Monday Night Residency series, during which the club would feature a band who would perform (with several other bands) every Monday night for a month.
In February of this year, I heard a rumor that Club Spaceland was no more. The venue owner and concert promoter had parted ways amicably. (I heard about it a little too late to see Foo Fighters play the farewell show. Damn!) After hearing this sad news I thought to myself, "Whatever am I to do with the endless Monday nights ahead of me now??"
I was told that the venue was staying open under a different name, The Satellite and that everything should be the same except, you know, better.Still, I was certain that it could never be the same.So certain that I avoided the place altogether until last Monday night. (Full disclosure: this avoidance was aided by my being out town for a couple of months.)After many Monday nights filled with fretting, I was relieved to discover that, from my vantage point at least, everything is indeed the same!
The disco Saturn is still spinning…
The PBR is still flowing…
And above all, the beloved free Monday Night Residency series is still intact. This month Stone Darling is featured.They are a mostly-girl band with an easy-going, melodic sound.If you want to hear perfectly pitched female voices meeting in tight harmony, Stone Darling is the way to go.Right now I’m loving the dark, southern vibe of the track Angeline.
If you have a chance, check out their Facebook page here. Give them a "Like" and check out the story behind the formation of the band under the Info tab. Trust me.
While at the Huntington Library recently I came across these two paintings in the American gallery.
{ Still Life by Luigi Lucioni }
{ Small Crushed Campbell's Soup Can (Beef Noodle) by Andy Warhol }
They got me to thinking about inspiration and its ugly step-cousin imitation.Now, let me say right away that I am not an expert on Andy Warhol and do not claim to know where he found his inspiration – aside from popular culture, of course.However, as I looked at Lucioni’s still life I couldn’t help but wonder if Warhol if he had seen Lucioni's work and had been inspired by the modern take on a classic still life painting; specifically, the Campbell’s soup can. Although Warhol was born two years after Lucioni painted this piece, they both lived in New York City at the same time and died one year apart.It is very likely that Warhol could have seen this piece.
Let’s say he did.Although I am not necessarily a fan of Warhol, I think that if he did see this piece and was inspired by it, he did a great job of keeping imitation, the ugly and unwanted step-cousin of inspiration, out in the cold.The same subject - a Campbell’s soup can - is treated very differently in each piece, but both pieces are successful in portraying a mundane part of everyday life.Well done, boys.
So, all this thinking got me to keep on thinking about my songwriting. There is consistently before me the challenge of letting the music of others inspire me without imitating them.
One of my biggest fears during the songwriting process is that I will end up writing a song that someone else has already written.It’s unlikely that it would be word-for-word, but discovering that you accidentally copied a hook or melody line is the absolute worst feeling a songwriter can experience. Having been raised "under a rock" as I affectionately say and not exposed to mainstream music until my early 20s, this challenge is especially intimidating. However, I continue to face the challenge with a couple fingers on my keyboard and a couple fingers crossed.
This, on the other hand, I would NOT mind imitating.
... to see Brenna Whitaker and her Little Big Band perform at the W Hotel. She has been performing in "The Living Room" at the W every Sunday for the past 9 months. Cozy though it may sound, The Living Room is actually a huge space connected to the lobby of the hotel. Every Sunday night Brenna packs the place - mostly with Hollywood hotties. The W is within walking distance (in heels) from my apartment, so it's an easy Sunday night with a huge payoff.
What can I say about B-Dub?She is the perfect marriage of insane talent and vibrant charisma. This girl has a huge and versatile voice that is spell-bounding live. A quirky blonde cutie, I find it hard to take my eyes off her while she is performing.During her second set she usually has some guests perform.Past guests: Michael Buble and Stevie Wonder.Holy cow, right?!I haven’t been there for any big names, but the guests are always high caliber talent and she shares the stage graciously (even during uncomfortable moments when a military widow jumps up on stage and does a stripper-esque dance for her late husband).Still, I find myself wishing their songs to be over so Brenna will get back on stage.
Last night her guests happened to be a trio of burlesque dancers. A delightful surprise. I think they were called the Brookettes or Brooklyn's Burlesque? I did a little research this morning and was unable to come up with anything.
Despite the fact that the first time I met her was a long time ago in the bathroom of a tiny club where she was performing in downtown LA, I am now star struck.I have wanted to get a picture with her - as any groupie would - but even though she has walked right by me several times, I haven’t been able to work up the nerve to ask. Stay tuned.
While you wait on pins and needles for me to work up some courage, you can check out Brenna's music here.
During my time in LA I have met a lot of talented people and have been lucky enough to become friends with a few of them.
I met Patrick (also known as “Oh, That Patrick” or “Skinny P”) about 5 years ago when he arrived as a drummer in shining armor at my hour of need.I have to be honest; I don’t really remember much about the first months of our friendship because they were filled mostly with stressful rehearsals and anxiety-ridden shows.Despite all, we became and remain friends.
{ Patrick playing last night at his Birthday Bash }
So, how talented is Skinny P?Very.And why does he deserve the prestigious honor of being the very first friend featured in the My Talented Friends series?Because today is his birthday. OK, and maybe because he turned out to be a super musician who can write, sing, and play any instrument he touches.
I was not privy to the extent of Patrick’s musical prowess until a former girlfriend of his came to one of our shows at The Pig’N Whistle in Hollywood.She bitched me out (literally) for relegating such an amazing pianist and guitarist to the drums.I slowly backed away and tried to explain that I didn’t know!Soon after that episode I moved Patrick to the guitar and found Christopher, an exceptional drummer, to replace him.(You can expect to see Christopher in an upcoming My Talented Friends post.)
Although Patrick still plays with me occasionally, he has his own project called Skinny P and the _______.
{Skinny P and the Huh? }
It was once Skinny P and the Destroyers, but I have been informed that the name will change with every show. At yesterday's show they were Skinny P and the Birthday Bash. I’m sure that won’t get confusing at all.
Abby, Patrick's wife, is in the band too. Like Patrick, she is talented... just prettier.
Patrick’s music very much reflects his personality: cerebral, candid, playful, clever, and just a little rambunctious. A former SAT tutor and current LSAT tutor, he writes songs titled "Serpentine Machinations", "Shitty Philanthropist", and "Reductionism", yet manages to keep them light and unpretentious. You can check out some of his work here and here. Everything you will hear is written and performed by Patrick himself. And I mean everything - all instruments included.
Yesterday was a fantastic day of food, music, family, and friends. Dan and I started the day with lobster and friends at the East Bay Grille in Plymouth, MA (the site of past debauchery) and ended it with clam chowder and family at The Bailey in Marshfield, MA. There were bands playing at both restaurants and it got me thinking...
If in 20 years I am with this guy ...
Doing this...
Or this...
I will be happy ... and probably relieved. Age is a major factor in the LA music scene. I often - and I do mean OFTEN - worry that I have passed the prime music career-making age. My friends and husband tell me I'm crazy, but the thought is always in the back of my head. Then I come to New England and see 50+ year olds energetically grooving to the oldies and jamming out Irish jigs on a Sunday afternoon with the sun in the sky and ocean at their backs and I realize that there is musical life outside of LA and over 30. A relief indeed.
Last night Dan, a few of our east coast friends, and I ventured into Penuche's, an underground "dive" bar in Concord, NH. I feel I should be honest and tell you that it was for the third time this week. Last night when we got to the bottom of the stairs we were told there was a $3 cover. This launched a series of word bubbles in my head straight out of SNL's Really!?! with Seth and Amy. $3 is not bad, but I thought I had left cover charges behind in LA.
Too many bars in LA charge a cover at the door simply for the privilege of spending your money inside - no entertainment, no nuthin'. Many times when you are paying a cover to see a band, the bar or club keeps all or most of the money made at the door. Often when I play shows with my band, there is a cover - usually around $10 - but my band and I see none of it. The music scene is so vast and competitive that if you are not amenable to the terms offered by a venue, they will easily and speedily find someone who is.
Last night I could hear that a band was playing inside, so I silently hoped at least some of the cover would go to them and paid up. A little while later I was voicing my umbrage at the cover to one of Dan's friends who lives in the area and she delivered the refreshing news that the guy taking money at the door told her all the money goes to the band. How refreshing! Good for the band and good for Penuche's.
P.S. I know it's a blogger's obligation to bring a camera everywhere to document everything. I have no problem complying with this during the day; however, for some reason when night falls and I have a drink in my hand, my lens cap stays on. After 3 nights at Penuche's, this is the only photo I can produce:
