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What You Missed This Weekend

26 Oct

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97,000 people attended the U2 concert at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena on Sunday night. Amongst the vibrating lights and amped crowd, with Bono’s pitch perfect voice echoing the stadium walls, no prouder moment was to be had than when fifty-year olds drunk on Bud Light, wearing their favorite ripped 1995 tour tees (that managed to conceal only a portion of plump belly underneath), are shouting and loudly singing next to you in an inharmonious malodorous drone. For three hours. However, hoisting said Buds in the air, everyone rocked out to the new and the old U2 hits, taking part in Bono’s message to the world – love, peace and unity – voiced by Bono, cheered on by Los Angeles, making history with the international YouTube live broadcast of the concert.

Less inspired than the U2 concert, was the Italian Tourism Board at The Grove, which appeared at the property for the weekend. Promoting tourism across the world, The Grove has featured Hawaii, Canada, Japan and now Italy. A pop-up trailer ushered you into an air-conditioned room to be educated about the country. You could have scored a 2-inch bottle of true Italian virgin Olive Oil and some European chocolates while being told the virtues of relaxing in Sardinia.

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Also, you could have spent some money. Head over to TenOverSix for some expensive shopping (Beverly boulevard is good for that). Get on your knees and beg them to order more of the sold-out mini-cigarette shrunken literature books from Leo Tolstoy: The Death of Ivan Ilych and Father Sergius, Joseph Conrad: Heart of Darkness and Robert Louis Stevenson: Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.

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Varsity Blues

28 Aug

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I’m not sure what to say, except that I was pretty sure the arc on Boy Bands had finally come to the end of its rainbow; Justin ran off with the pot of gold and Lance ran off with the Leprechaun, and we were all over the phenomenon faster than the resurgence of the 80’s shoulder pad. Yet, we have this….

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G&G = LOVE

27 Aug

Last night, The Grove hosted the fourth of several featured singers for their FREE summer Concert Series, held in the fountain/park area of the shopping mecca. A friend allowed me some VIP treatment. All I had to sacrifice was a little clausterphobia and impatience when exiting the parking garage (these events draw CROWDS). So here I was…

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THIS. Is Gavin Rossdale. THREE. FEET. AWAY.

You heard me.

Shyly sitting off to the side, an estimable twenty feet, was his beautiful wife and son; who managed to shade themselves from the paparazzi with bodyguards and other friends standing in front of their visage.

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Though nothing could be more heavenly than the proximity of Gwen, it was a forlorn moment to see her trying to enjoy the show but subtly self-conscious of the cameras. Which, though aimed on Gavin a majority of the night, were directed towards her the moment the backstage crowd separated.

It was a great show. He played a collection of the old, new, and Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”.

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…and closer…

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Before Gavin emerged onstage, we were stuck with the Varsity Fanclub. A group of youngsters so young (with a very glittery wardrobe), I wasn’t sure they were even in High School. I cannot wait to show you the newest jazz hands to hit the stage.

That’s tomorrow.

No Doubt

28 Jul

First, the Nu Sounds came on. A Swedish band whose female lead, despite her strong voice, echoed along the walls of a mostly empty amphitheater. By the time my Coors Light buzz started to wear off, the only thing I could think was “Please God, get this second rate, wannabe Gwen off the stage,” and that this gyrating blond harpy should stop her Swedish leg kicks and crotch splitting pole grinding – Where’s Gwen? Where’s Paramore, and when do the Nu Sounds stop singing?

Paramore then assumed the stage and took to it in running, jumping, head-bangin’ reverie.

There was a disappointing lack of red lipstick in the audience and not a platinum blond in sight – I was expecting to see a panoply of Gwen-lookalikes and wannabes. The crowd filtered in slowly, the ‘sold out’ show barely packed even after Paramore made their appearance. My need-to-be-early-everywhere punctuality felt more foolish than ever since I had so far watched each opening band in agonizing expectation of the main attraction.

But nothing mattered the moment No Doubt came on. When their shadows graced a backlit white sheet, the crowd erupted and so did I. Thus ensued over an hour of jumping, sweating, singing, shouting, cheerful accolades in response to Gwen’s superlative, ab-bearing performance. Best night ever.

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Goodnight.

Some Assembly Required

20 Jul

With the Knitting Factory nearby, known for its gothic adolescent clientele and punk rock head-bangers in leather and sky-high mohawks, it’s unsurprising to see PR for a local L.A. band on the sidewalk, the source most likely, an enthusiastic fan (or the band itself – since what teen dressed in head-to-toe black doesn’t look conspicuous? Or maybe that’s just concert gear…). Devotees of the Factory are seemingly the least averse to the destruction or ruin of property, seeing as how they routinely spend hours before any Knitting show getting lit, drinking beer and peeing their way through every corner of the third level of the underground parking garage. Anyway…

This weekend, I ran into this:

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Which most likely has to do with this:

We are Assemble The Skyline: A Band

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