As a little intro, we thought it’d be cool for the three of us to talk about what song we feel best fits our little towns. Read Brian’s here and Araceli’s here.
Because I have lived mostly in Southern California, and just recently in Los Angeles, most of my songs of ‘home’ are about California. Joni Mitchell’s “California” has always been my favorite, and Phantom Planet’s “California” reminds me of the period in my life when I was new to Orange County, and “The OC” was new to Fox.
But this is a blog entry about Los Angeles. Sometimes all you see is a sprawling gray wasteland of freeways, traffic crawling at 5 miles an hour. Sometimes your vision is blocked by a hot black vinyl miniskirts topped by a hot pink wigs biking around Hollywood. Other times there are gigantic houses in the hills of Pasadena, and others there’s nothing but the sound of the surf crashing onto Santa Monica, or Venice. There’s Little Tokyo, Olvera St., Chinatown and the Hollywood Bowl. The Getty, the LACMA, the hidden art galleries of Silverlake, the studios and theaters in Culver City. There’s so much to LA that it’s a constant stimulant; you either love it or hate it, but there is no indifference; it’s undeniable.
Maybe that’s why the three songs I love most about LA are about despair, disgust and destruction. It’s a paradox, just like the city. Oh, and ironically, two out of three of these songwriters are from Seattle — they write about Los Angeles because they’re jealous of the constant, sunny blue skies!!! Bad Religion is from Orange County though, and Greg teaches at UCLA, so that’s cool.
p.s. Whenever Death Cab plays “Why’d You Want to Live Here” in LA, the crowd always goes wild, like it’s a love song Ben Gibbard is singing to them (I saw this happen at the Greek and at the Wiltern). See? Everyone else here gets it too.
The article is reposted below, and extend it with some more rambling commentary…
In a giddy fit of keyboards, falsettos, and saccharine dance beats, Boston newcomers Passion Pit are charming their way west during their first national tour. P.P. bounced their way through a congenial but criminally short set last night at Schubas, as Michael Angelakos engaged the audience with the same disarming manner and sky-high vocals that seep through every track of his debut EP, Chunk of Change.
The set started out playful and keyboard-heavy with Angelakos’ ear for pop melody pushing to the forefront. Flanked a guitar, drums, two Rolands, a Moog, and sitting behind a Yamaha synth himself, Angelakos’ dare-you-to-sing-higher-than-me octaves pierced through riffs, piano lines, and programmed back-beats. Espousing sentiments that in lower vocal ranges might be cringe inducing diary entries, the proper set ended with the dance-happy electropop of “Sleepyhead” and “Better Things” to which the sellout crowd lost their collective brains to, bloggers and ALTBros alike.
Angelakos apologized repeatedly for the abridged set, but, the audience couldn’t blame them for succinctness – Passion Pit just haven’t been around long enough to have a full set.
In a backstory that’s impossible not to repeat; Passion Pit’s origins couldn’t be more endearing: Originally a late Valentine’s Day present for Angelakos’ g/f, the “Chunk of Change” CDR made the rounds at Emerson University, made waves in Boston, and made headlines after some stellar sets at this year’s CMJ music fest in New York. A few months later, after some east coast practice gigs, they’re on tour backed by new label Frenchkiss, playing the six songs that everyone knows and road-testing a few new ones.
Passion Pit’s sincerity and DIY style fits with just a few other bands who somehow dodge be criticized for being goddamned “sincere” all the time — people have seemed to get really sick of that recently. (The fact that, as 20-something culture consumers, we already have issues with earnestness is fodder for a different blog).
I see Angelakos along side other singer/songwriters like Khaela Maricich (The Blow), Ben Gibbard (a-la The Postal Service), and Robert Wratten (Field Mice) as artists that manage to be shmultsy but nevertheless loveable.
Let it be a lesson to those aspiring coffeehouse guitar wankers… if you’re inspired to put your love / breakup letters to music and share it with the world, do two things:
Sing higher and/or softer than you’re comfortable
Put some good fucking beats behind it
You’ll be a blogosphere hero in no time.
Bembang! is a music blog written by a trio of music nerds who live in Los Angeles, Chicago and New York City.
