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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Tuesday, September 7   >>


From the (newly redesigned, super SYNERGETIC web 2.0 and not-dead and Like-Us/Tweet-Us) Internet Circle Jerk:
I wonder if Universal is contractually obligated to note that Devil comes "from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan."
Iono, but one thing I do know is that this trailer has, too, preceded every film I've seen this summer.

And all 4 or 5 times, the crowd unanimously hissed when Shyamalan's name came up. That's crazy! Every single time!

At this point, you'd think Shyamalan would have embraced the general consensus and pulled a Tommy Wiseau.


In 2004, I saw an Earth, Wind & Fire concert on some HD music channel. It was un-fucking-believably good and I was, like, "How have my parents never exposed me to this band?! HOW?!" It marked the beginning of my obsessive fascination with black music. I didn't know music with so much brains could also be so fucking COOL.

The very next day, I bought a bunch of their CDs, and one in particular had liner notes (by whom I can't recall) that read: "Everyone who takes music seriously must make it a priority to see Earth, Wind & Fire live at least once in their life."

And I finally did last Saturday at the Bowl. And I have to say those words are so, so, so true. My friends and I packed up enough booze and food to last us 3 Haitian earthquakes, but the buzz we got from dancing our ASSES off (seriously -- SO MUCH DANCING) was better.

It is absolutely the highlight of our summer: wine, Cheetos, friends, fireworks, my favorite black music, and a setlist that I can't believe I got to experience: "After The Love Has Gone" into "Reasons" into "Fantasy" into "In The Stone" into "Got To Get You Into My Life" = I came, like, 99 times.


THE JESSICA: Are you going to FuckYeahFest later today?

HUGO: Nope. Earth, Wind & Fire.

THE JESSICA: WTF, grampa. Okay, we'll talk later.
I think that's very telling. I could see those bands anytime I want. Right? *Shrug*

One's going to die sooner than the other.


I also think this show also marks the end of this year's "Hugo Goes Adult Contemporary For a Prolonged Amount of Time" series.

Seriously, I haven't been to a club show in months. That has to change fast. Look at the last shows I've seen in the past few weeks:

- John Mayer
- Herbie Hancock and Friends
- Rufus Wainwright
- Harry Connick, Jr.
- Between the Buried and Me
- Twice
- Flight of the Conchords
- Diana Ross/Richard Carpenter
- Maxwell


No, but seriously, considering that my band is uber indie chic/super duper alt/omg-we're-better-than-you-because-you-don't-know-us, I have to get back to frequenting Silverlake Lounge, the Echo/plex, Pehrspace, and all the other local shitholes with a semi-consistent scene. Without them, my band is nothing.

Don't get me wrong, I love the mega polished pop show, but I think not having that dirty/stinky club community where no one seems to give a fuck has impeded my calibration of what constitutes rock music in its roots. It's slowly coming back, so I'm not too worried about jumping back in. I'm sure I'll get the, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" remark or two, but whatever.

It's scary how much sight you lose when you don't ground yourself in these club shows, even for only a brief amount of time. That balance is essential. I'll always lean towards big lights and triggers, but its converse is complimentary to it and vice versa. I can't feel too guilty.