Cherry Ghost - The Afternoons @ spaceland

Written By: Cherry Ghost

Afternoons w/ Parson Redheads
6.23.08 @ Spaceland

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It’s true. Dancing makes everything better.

I parked a long way away this time around. But I didn’t mind. The summer air had finally cooled for the evening, and my walk to the club seemed like sweet relief from my humid oven in Hollywood. I enjoy evening walks and evening sounds and the urban evening animals I often see in Silverlake. The only thing I saw this time was a black cat. And he still had his tail. Lucky.

When I walked into Spaceland, I was surprised to see that Parson Redheads had already started their set. I am usually quite early to most things I attend. This is an annoying habit that I have spent the last few years trying to amend. I have tried several tactics, including forcing myself to not leave my house until I’m sure I’m going to be late – this never seems to work. Sigh. I always end up listening to some song on repeat in my car while waiting for my friends in the (free) prime parking spot I’ve acquired with all the extra time I had at disposal to drive around looking.

I have to admit, I was not thrilled with the first couple of songs. With the subpar (how did “subpar” end up being a bad thing in the English language? Isn’t it supposed to be a sports metaphor? And isn’t subpar a great thing? Anyone? Please tell me, it’s been bugging me for years.) sound in Spaceland, I thought I was in for a very mediocre hour of music.

Fortunately, two more members joined after the second song and everything started to look up. One of these members was in charge of dancing. This is what he did. Or what he does. This is the instrument he plays. And it made all the difference in the world. The missing energy was found!

I especially liked the last half of the last song. I have no idea what it was. But it was beautiful and I wanted more of that one!

I don’t have to tell you about Afternoons. You already heard ALL about it a couple weeks ago. And yes, they were still amazing. Only this time I left with a soar throat, as I now know the lyrics and was singing along whenever I could.

Yours truly,
Cherry Ghost

Ps. In retrospect, I should have asked those Parsons where they got all their fancy white clothes – I’m going to a “wear-all-white-clothes-surprise-party-thing” this weekend, and I just don’t have the wardrobe. I don’t have it, I must acquire it, and I really really want to look cool. Can I borrow those sunglasses and shorts?

Cherry Ghost - Karaoke, Anyone??

The Brass Monkey
6/13/08

Written by: Cherry Ghost

I know, I know. You’ve been there a MILLION times. It’s fun ol’ news to you. But listen, I hadn’t.

I once had a dream about The Brass Monkey. In my dream it was the biggest karaoke bar in Los Angeles. With shiny white walls, diffused soft light and ultra modern furniture. People were dressed like pop stars and they all could sing like Aretha. Everyone had glowing straight white teeth and 100 watt smiles. Cute little waitresses in low-cut tops served fancy cocktails and delicious snacks.

The only thing left over from this dream after my recent foray in Korea Town was that the waitresses were in fact, pretty cute. The rest of the dream was almost the complete opposite of the actual Brass Monkey. Keep in mind, that was an anxiety dream – as I am horrified and terrified of karaoke. (My performance, not the performance of others.) The last time I tried to go to The Brass Monkey was YEARS ago. My friends and I got lost never found it. I acted irritated, but I was secretly VERY relieved.

The Brass Monkey turned out to be quite unassuming. Like a little log cabin tucked away in the underbelly an office building. From the moment we stepped in and were greeted by a nice old gentleman, I had the feeling that all my fears were unsubstantiated. I felt lucky to get a table. A table? At a popular bar? On Friday night?

Then I realized that everyone stands, and the only view my table got me was ass. I wish I liked stranger ass more. So we moved to the bar. And a great vantage point for crowd watching and singer watching – yet out of the way of singer heckling. And by “singer heckling”, I don’t mean that people heckle the singer, I mean that the singer tends to heckle the crowd. Or “flirt”. I guess you could call some of it “flirting.”

Here is my determination: I like watching Karaoke. I would like it even more if the following standards were in place…

1. All songs must be four minutes or under. Do not have longer options on the menu.

2. The hired “host” must actually be funny and/or cool and not just pretending to be funny and/or cool.

3. No sitting while you sing. If you are sitting while you sing, you chose the wrong song. (Unless you are using the chair as a prop… then I forgive you).

4. If you pick a song that most of the audience doesn’t know, it better be DAMN good and you better perform the SHIT out of it.

It was kind of fun to be anonymous. But I’m sure it’s even more fun with a big group of drunk friends. Monopolizing the mic and singing like Aretha.

If it weren’t so far away, I would suggest the Tattletale Room over the Brass Monkey. Listen, that place is GREAT if you’re a scaredy-cat like me. Otherwise, put on your sequined skirt, brush your teeth (be sure to use white strips) and head on down The Brass Monkey.

Cherry Ghost - Los Angeles Natural History Museum?

Written By: Cherry Ghost

I know, I know. I’m supposed to write concert reviews. And this was SUPPOSED to be a concert to review. But the concert was the least exciting part of the evening.

6/6/08 The Mountain Goats @ The Natural History Museum w/ Annuals

I had never made it out to a First Friday event at the Los Angeles Natural History Museum. I always had excuses… mainly that it always seemed SO early. But last week (luckily, as it was the final one of the year) I made it out!

I decided that I wanted to get the full First Friday experience, so I got there as early as I possibly could. Which was around 5:45pm. This had an unintended bonus of free street parking. (By the way: I love free parking. It always makes me happier to be where I am.)



While we missed the tour (which was ok, as I like self-guided-going-where-I-want-when-I-want-learning-about-what-I-want-to-learn-about tours better anyway) we did sit in on the lecture by Dr. Craig Stanford.



It was about the similarities between apes and dolphins – more specifically “Beautiful Minds: The Parallel Evolution of Apes and Dolphins, and What it Means for Human Origins”. The lecture (when it finally started after all the introductions and self-promotions) was only about a half hour long. THE PERFECT length for an educational lecture! If it goes much longer, I get bored and stop learning all the important things there are to learn. After that we continued on our self guided tour around the museum.

This is the best way to see a museum: Drinks! Dim lights! Lots of young 20 somethings! Food! Dinosaur Costumes! Music! DJs! Bands! Friends! No need to talk in Hushed Museum Voices!

We waited in a line that went around several corners to get into the Mammal Hall in order to watch the bands play. By the way, what a great venue to have a show! They were set up right in front of the Bison exhibit. I liked what Annuals had going on, but I really couldn’t hear very well. And I was constantly distracted by the baby boar in the exhibit next to me.

*Why haven’t we found a way to keep animals as cute little babies FOREVER? Huh, Science? Why?*

A great local with terrible acoustics. Too bad. And when the Mountain Goats started, it was even harder for me to focus on the music. Sooooooo… we left Mammal Hall and raced around the museum at a furious pace looking for some lost friends. We found them. Deep in the Marine Life hall, were we had a wine induced conversation about sand crabs and The Running of the Grunions – happening now, at a beach near you.

*While trying to remember the word “Grunion”, I came across this little tid-bit: “It is legal to catch grunions while they are on the beach, but only with bare hands. The preferred method of grunion catching is at night with a flashlight and a gunny sack.” A gunny sack? Who knew!*

This was a perfect Friday evening. I will seek out and discover more events like this. I will. And I’m going to. And then I will consider telling you about them. Sure beats going to a bar. In fact, I wish someone would open a bar exactly like the Natural History Museum. Someone? Anyone? I also wish I was wildly rich or fantastically famous so that I could throw a costume party/scavenger hunt/hide & seek party there. Maybe they will read this and let me, as a nice little present for saying nice things about them.

Next time: Gems & Minerals, Dinosaurs and the Bug display – couldn’t bring my drink in. Didn’t want to set my drink down. Didn’t want to down my drink… Didn’t see these exhibits.

Cherry Ghost.

Cherry Ghost - The Afternoons/War Paint

Editor's Note: After a small hiatus, our star writer, Cherry Ghost returns.....yaay!
_______________________________________
The Afternoons @ Spaceland w/ War Paint
6/2/08 (June residency)

Written By: Cherry Ghost

War Paint.

I’m gonna make this quick as I want to get to the GOOD GREAT FANTASTIC MAGICAL part. I like your name. I especially like your name cause you’re all girls (Oops, sorry boy on the drums… I forgot about you for a second).

The main question I’m left with after your set is: What is with the weird adult onesie/diaper outfit? You’re way too sexy to be wearing that. Are you trying to set a trend or did you lose a bet?

All I know is that I will not be rushing out to buy one. I really liked the music although the vocals weren’t for me. I wasn’t into the echo-y vocal effect splashed across almost every song. It seemed like a gimmick. Sometimes the sound in Spaceland isn’t the best and I would like to give you the benefit of doubt, especially as your last song sounded pretty good. Bat For Lashes, you are not.

I enjoyed the show – but wouldn’t buy the album. Or an adult onesie.

The Afternoons!

Buy On:


Right from the start, an ambiance was set on stage – the low warm tone of the lights combined with the blinks and blips coming from machines that I’d never seen before gave Spaceland an inviting and cozy feeling. And with the start of a steady beat on the bass drum I could feel a smile that formed in my gut plaster itself on my lips.

It never left my face for the next hour (and more… I think I fell to sweet dreams with it still lingering on my lips and crinkling the corners of my eyes). I can’t explain where they transported me. There were moments that I felt like I was in a 1920’s revival tent. Or at a 1940’s fair.

And moments where my feet were firmly planted in the 21st century. Claire Mceown. Oh how her voice rang out. I’ve never heard a voice quite like hers. And it lured me in and held my attention so that I could barely breathe. I’ve never wished so hard: “Please Please Please may I be in your band? I’ll do anything. I learn the harmonica in a heart beat.”

I didn’t know any of the songs, yet I felt included in what seemed to be a joyous sing along.

“Joyous.”

This is a word I would use to describe the evening. They all sang with harmonies that made me squirm they were so spot on! Sam Johnson. He was all over the stage. First as the second drummer (yes, they had 2 drummers on 2 full kits) and then as trumpeter. Going from the most mournful notes until they shifted and lifted to become suddenly …again… joyous! Then to vocals, bass, guitar, and on and on.

I could hardly keep track of all the moves he was making. Brian and Steven (maybe more but I’m not sure) came out on the other side of Irving with a shot that has been echoing in my heart since the first note and probably won’t leave for a long, long time.

If you have it in you to make it out late on a Monday night, you should. It’s magic. I’m going to try to go at least one more time this month. It’s free (except for the $3 EP you’re bound to buy). And it’s incredible. And you shouldn’t miss it. To the moon!

Cherry Ghost.

Cherry Ghost - The Antarcticans

Written By: Cherry Ghost

Hooray For Friends!

The Antarcticans new album (INHUMANCENTRIC) listening party &
video premier for "The Ghost of The Trees and The Erase of Man"
5/2/08 Laemmle Playhouse Seven Pasadena

Last Friday I made the treacherous journey into Pasadena to watch the premier of The Antarcticans new music video, co-directed by Jimmy Fusil and Tom Cabela - both of Bloody Robots fame.

I didn’t know what to expect, as I had never heard a single note of music by The Antarcticans. Also, my last trip to Pasadena was less than I expected it to be and I wasn’t looking forward to going back. (The company I kept is excluded from that last statement… and was the only reason the day was salvageable.)

I thought the video was a great visual success. I would have been really angry and started throwing things at the screen if it had not been, as an entire portion of my core group of friends missed my Magic Castle birthday party extravaganza last year to shoot it. You are excused THIS TIME boys… I better get LOTS of presents this year.

I feel like I am always scared walking into artistic endeavors of friends. I’m always frightened that it’s going to be sub-par and that I will have to make up clever compliments so that I can squeak by without lying and yet not hurt anyone’s feelings. “Wow. You really worked out the lighting… I LOVED the dramatic shadows you achieved.” I didn’t need to be worried this time. Jimmy is a perfectionist (some might say “musical snob” – but you didn’t hear it from me) and the last video that Tom directed (The Colorforms: Nothing Can Come Between Us) was incredible.

The Antarcticans deserve another listen from me. I have to admit I didn’t love the music… I also have to admit that was falling asleep during the “album listening” portion of the event, as the flashing lights below the screen were forcing me into a hypnotic trance lulling me towards slumber. The Antarcticans are an instrumental band full of dissonant chords that demand my full attention sometime soon. I will not write them off. I promise. I am very curious about a live show. Very curious indeed. They don’t call me “The Curious Ghost” for nothing. Oh wait, no one calls me that. But maybe they will start. When they find out just how curious I am.

Congratulations boys!
Hip hip hooray!
MORE VIDEOS PLEASE!

"The Ghost of The Trees and The Erase of Man" coming soon to a YouTube near you.

Cherry Ghost - Sly And The Family Stone

Written By: Cherry Ghost

It had to happen eventually…

Sly and the Family Stone
House of Blues, Sunset 4/26/08

Braving the Sunset strip is never an easy task. I avoid it as much as I possibly can. But when I was presented with the last minute opportunity to see a legend, nightmares of silicon breasts, peroxide hair, manufactured tans and frat boys all disappeared. My secret jealousies and hatred toward friends trekking out to the desert for Coachella melted away. I would be in sweet sweet air-conditioned splendor listening to the grooves of Sly. IN YOUR FACE COACHELLA WHORES!

After a makeshift Lynchburg Lemonade (limeade instead of lemonade) I was whisked up and away to the heart of Saturday night the Sunset Strip.

I have come to discover that any place, no matter how much despised, can be thoroughly enjoyed when shared with the right people. I love to watch people. To hypothesize about the thought process which brought someone to the conclusion that the velour-leopard-print-two-piece-pantsuit (two sized too big) would be the perfect outfit for this 90 degree spring evening. Or what drew that gentleman to purchase the aloha-style shirt with the saying “get ‘er done” emblazoned sporadically on it in neat cursive letters.

Was it the pairing of two of his favorite things, Hawaii and Jeff Foxworthy? Also, a new game was invented: Spot the worst possible (yet slightly believable) version of your friends… ten to twenty years from now. You should play it. Especially the next time you find yourself on the Sunset Strip.

Our game had time to develop and spread to neighboring groups of people as we waited TWO LONGGGGGGGGG HOURS for Sly to grace us with his presence. When he finally walked on stage, he took the mic and attempted to blame his tardiness on his manager, claiming he was told the wrong time.

Your manager told you that you would be starting your show at 12:30 instead of 10:30? UH… there is something not QUITE believable about this claim (and by “not quite” I mean “not at all”).

He also informed us that IF he could refund us our money he would, as he would GLADLY play the show for free… I’m still waiting for that refund. We waited another 10 minutes or so for the band to actually start the set. And what a shaky, shaky set it was. I’m still not sure what the first song was.

When “If You Want Me To Stay” started, I felt my heart begin to flutter as this is my personal favorite. That flutter was quickly abated when the song crumbled around the edges, becoming a shadow of what I had once loved. Then a bazaar version of “Hot Fun in the Summertime” – which involved throwing one-hundred dollar bills into the audience (a thinly veiled bribe) for their participation in singing the chorus. The song went on, and on, and on… After a messy version of “Everyday People”, Sly informed everyone that he needed to take a restroom break – at which point Mr. Holiday and I informed everyone that we needed a restroom break as well… but actually quietly snuck out the back (and by “quietly snuck out” I mean “complained loudly while knocking over tables of drinks and kicking anyone we could in the shin”).

It was 1:15am. Those who stayed said that the night only got weirder. And not in a fun awesome way that made us regret our decision to leave before the end.

The lesson could be: Let legends live in the past where their true genius shined. But I know this not to be true – as I was fortunate enough to see James Brown at the Hollywood Bowl the summer before he passed away. I was not disappointed. I did not leave early. His songs sounded just as amazing as his records. I could even forgive him (and actually found it kind of charming) when he used a teleprompter on some of them… If I had that many songs, I would need a teleprompter too.

The lesson is: Always tag a long with those who enjoy making secret-fun of others. You’re bound to have a great time, no matter what!

Oh, and I would give you pictures of the earlier mention outfits, but Stupid House Of Blues doesn’t allow photographic equipment. I know this because the last time I went they tried to confiscate my phone. I will only go back there to see Kanye West by personal invitation. Mr. West… if you are reading this, I would like to come to your show at the SHOB. If you ever put one on there. Thanks.

Cherry Ghost - Dear Johnathan Rice

Written by: Cherry Ghost

Johnathan Rice @ Spaceland (April Residency: Week 3)

Dear Johnathan Rice,

It has come to my attention, after bearing witness to last night’s show, that the girls of Los Angeles love you SO HARD!

Seriously, how do you concentrate on your music?

I could hardly concentrate on it and I’m enamored with it. I couldn’t stop smiling and giggling as I watched the front row (wall) of women. Their faces were BEAMING – all in caps lock as I can’t express the extent of the beam in any other way.

They had their little gyration-dance moves all planned out, each with subtle differences in hopes of catching your eye. I was also watching them out of concern that someone’s heart might actually explode out of their chest, bounce across the stage… still beating… and land at your feet. I became very conscious of how squeamish I get at the sight of blood, but decided that I should prepare myself to perform some kind of arterial clamping.

1. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many women at Spaceland.
2. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much dancing at Spaceland.
3. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many happy people at Spaceland.

The last time I saw you play was at the Ben Gibbard solo show at Royce Hall, UCLA. I loved it so much and have been listening to your album since that time. I must say that I rather enjoy you with a full band. It suits your music. But please tell Spaceland that they can turn it down a notch or two so that we can all actually HEAR the music – without stuffing napkins in our ears.

*Side letter within a letter: Dear Amoeba, Please reissue the little capsules with earplugs you used to hand out with purchase. I lost mine.*

Johnathan, I want to take a moment to tell you that I’m in complete agreement when you say that we should “give coldwater canyon back to the coyotes”. I’ve been thinking this for years. I just couldn’t find the right melody to pair it with. Which brings me to my next question: How is it that you write such eloquent songs about Los Angeles and yet you aren’t even from here?

Is it magic?

Do you and David Copperfield often run down to the Bahamas and share trade secrets? Or is it Jay Owenhouse? That guy used to come to my home town EVERY year and exasperate me off with his uncanny ability to deceive and trick. (Please please please tell me how you did it! Pleeeeeeeeease!)

Thank you so much for your lovely set last night. And for your lovely friends in the audience. (Neil: I would like you to please make me my own guitar. From scratch. For free. On the double.)

Yours truly,
Cherry Ghost

Ps. Johnathan still has next Monday night. It’s free. You’ll like it. It’s fun. Go see the girls swoon!

Cherry Ghost - Phantom Planet

Buy On:


I thought I’d blown it. (But trust me, this story has a happy ending)

On Sunday night I noticed that Johnathan Rice was going to be playing the very next night at Spaceland. He is doing the April (free Monday nights) residency, but I suddenly found myself fixated on going THIS MONDAY. So, I started calling and writing friends… hoping that someone would feel the same as I and would jump at the chance to see a free show featuring Mr. Rice. My hope was in vain. One by one they all begged off with one excuse after another “oh I’m too sick” “oh I have to work” “oh I already have plans” (my friends start all sentences with “oh”).

Soon I realized that I would be venturing out on my own. Normally this isn’t a problem for me. But while I sat contemplating whether or not to “just do it” as they say, the season 2 box set of Lost started glaring at me from the shelf… it seemed to hypnotize me with it’s promise of immediate and commercial free entertainment. So I decided… there’s always next week. It’s STILL free next week. And so, I sat and watched the soap opera unfold in the hatch. People made out. People cried. They laughed. There was even still a little rock and roll as Driveshaft was the focal point of one of the episodes (my use of “a little” was purposefully used in relation to Driveshaft).

Then at 10:45 my cell phone started vibrating. “Hey! I’m in LA right now! At Spaceland!” The light from text message seemed to mock me. A friend and member of one of my very favorite bands of all time was not only in town but also, at that moment, doing the very thing I had so eagerly anticipated all day and then blown off for the unfulfilled promise of finding out who The Others actually are. ARG!

All was not lost (no pun intended). There was music and drinks and finger food to be had…

Phantom Planet on Jimmy Kimmel Live! 4/8/2008

First: Is a band still awesome if you’ve only heard them while intoxicated? I think so. And I’ll find out for sure when I buy their new album (Raising the Dead), which comes out next week (Can I say “drops next week”? Can I? Please? Please? Please?).

Somewhere, sometime I had decided that Phantom Planet must be a crazy techno electronica band. Something in that name, I guess. So I dismissed them in a flurry of ignorance and snobbery. Shows what I know. Which is nothing. I had all the wrong information, with no one to blame but myself. Not to worry, all was made right last night, as I discovered that they do not play massive synthesizers with contrived drum beats and a lot of backing tracks, but they play awesome rock and roll! And look happy doing it. *As a side note, I get REALLY sick of watching all the pouting and disinterested looks that have injected themselves into many of my favorite artists’ shows.

Listen, I would be pretty fucking happy to be rocking out on stage in front of screaming people who worship at my sweaty talented feet.* I would also like to say that if I wasn’t told that the “California” song from that OC show was by Phantom Planet, I still wouldn’t know. Their set really didn’t sound like anything like that song. Which isn’t exactly a bad thing. Or a good thing. Just an observation. (Another fit of snobbery: I met one Phantom, and he was nice. SO there. Wait. Maybe I should be directing that toward myself and my ignorant snobby dismissing ways.)

Second: Jimmy Kimmel throws one hell of a green room party. I’ve never been to a talk show taping. The truth is, I still haven’t. I spent the entire time in the green room, aside from show time out back in the parking lot… yes, that’s where the bands play. Yes, it was cold. Any other questions?

Here’s a good one: Did you ever watch DuckTales? Remember Scrooge McDuck’s room full of gold? The green room is kinda like that, only instead of diving into coins and bills, it’s finger food and wine and couches and video games and and and so much stuff! I discovered that I’m TERRIBLE at Ms. Pac-Man. How embarrassing. Oh well, wine spritzers make it all tolerable. Bartender, thank you for making me wine spritzers and not laughing at me as you did. And also for not laughing while I downed my vitamins. With that wine spritzer you just handed me. Yeah, I’m healthy like that.

Third: My one suggestion Mr. Kimmel: Please make more delicious vegetarian options. I got really jealous of the praise the tuna tartar was receiving … I can’t say I (or anyone) was feeling the same way about the gorgonzola fig tartlets.

The End.

Ps. I WILL make it to that Johnathan Rice show one Monday this month. I can, and I will! And so should you. You deserve it.

Cherry Ghost - You’ve Got The Only Key To My Heart…

4/1/08 The Black Keys w/ Jay Reatard @ The Wiltern

Buy The Black KeysOn:


Let me start by saying, I’m learning more and more that it really pays off to get to a show on the early side. I used to roll in just in time to hear the opening notes of the headliner and to hell with anyone before them.

Now I realize that there are gems to be found. And WAY better spots to stand for enhanced viewing pleasure (I totally stole that line from a KY commercial – only they didn’t say “viewing”).

Another thing that pays off: Having friends. And friends that like good music. And friends that win free tickets. And friends that give you one of those free tickets. And friends that drive you there. (Hey, I am TOTALLY the one that spotted our awesome parking spot… so I saved us at LEAST $10 in parking.)

Who is Jay Reatard? Well, I don’t know. But Wikipedia seems to. And they say he is originally Jay Lindsay. And he’s been around. And recorded a lot of stuff. In a lot of other bands. But you can look that up later on your own, for now let’s focus on his current project.

If I were to be Jay for one show (which would be awesome in so many ways) I would probably pass out from exhaustion after the first 15 minutes. I mean these guys didn’t stop! I don’t know if there was ever a moment while they were on stage that there was a lull in the music. There was no audience acknowledgement until the “Good Night” – Just a scream out of a song title before thrashing into it. And use thrashing, in this circumstance, as a compliment.

Each member of this three-piece group all had fantastically big hair. Jay’s was SO fantastic that when the first song started I couldn’t figure out who was singing because it (his hair) was covering his face AND the microphone. There was actually a moment when I thought to myself: Are they playing music with a vocal track? That’s new. And kind of awesome. But then I saw the mic stand. Buried in a head of hair. And all was good with the world.

Intermission: Our (Sunshine, An Angel and good ol’ me) spot was so perfect that we didn’t want to move an inch in fear of having it snatched away and, for the first time ever, I noticed that The Wiltern has cocktail waitresses. Thanks for saving the day cocktail waitresses!

As the fans started poured in, the observation was made that there were a lot of “Dudes” at this show. I don’t know if you know what I mean by “Dudes” and if you don’t, you might be one and I won’t bother explaining it in fear of offending you (But go ahead and ask your friends… try the word “Bro” as the meanings are very similar).

I think we expected a dirtier sort of crowd (and not a group of 20-somethings wearing corresponding red outfits, completely waisted, purposefully running into us because they thought it was cute and somehow seductive, yelling “fuck the Red Socks” – yeah, old news buddy – except for me, I don’t really follow baseball).

Oh The Keys! The sweet sweet Black Keys! Hi you… two. Yeah, you heard me. Two. Only two people in the band. With a sound that could blow a band of ten right off the stage. As much as it pains my inner music pride to say this: I did not know much about The Black Keys until the day of the show.

I listened to the album the night before and the day of the show and, although I found it extremely good (especially track 3), I have to say that it didn’t completely capture my interest. But the show, oh the excellent live show, now that got me. Me and the rest of the massive massive super fan of an audience. During the break before the encore one die-hard was actually slapping his shoes together hoping that this act would get them back on the stage – which means he was standing barefoot. In The Wiltern. Yuck. Now that’s commitment.

Thank you’s: Thank you slutty security guy, for letting all the drunk hot girls who whispered in your ear down onto the floor. I enjoyed watching you shoo away all the late-comers (that weren’t hot girls) who tried to squeeze into the front with a sweep of your flashlight (yes Sunshine, When did the flashlight become an effective broom? And where do you think he keeps his blow-job booth?). Thank you big blow up (not to be confused with “blow-job” as they are completely unrelated) tire and thank you excellent lighting designer.

Thank you awesome drum kit and thank you rad guitars (especially the “Flying V”). Thank you for being even better than your album – that is rare and precious. Thank you plaid-shirt-wearing guy for not keeping a beat but loving every second.

And, I can’t end this without saying, thank you, tight-black-shirt-shaved-head guy for giving your neck the proper rock-out it deserved.

“There is some serious neck pumping happening here.” - Quote of the evening, brought to you by Sunshine.

Until next week, Cherry Ghost.

Cherry Ghost

One hip young L.A. scenester's take on going's on and the hottest shows in Los Angeles.

The Afternoons @ Spaceland

Karaoke, Anyone?

The Afternoons/War Paint

The Antarcticans

Sly and the Family Stone

Dear Johnathan Rice

Phantom Planet

You've Got The Only Keys To My Heart...