Shot on Scene
No one’s ever accused superstar DJ / producer Diplo of not being for the people, and I ain’t about to start now. The dude who introduced us to M.I.A., Santigold and Bondo do Role played two sets at House of Blues Friday night. After ditching the underage raver kids, the 21-and-up set were treated to an encore set in HOB’s Delta Room, where the crowd got so frenzied that they jumped onstage. Hey, dude in the Gucci sweatshirt, we know you’re excited, but try not to spill your Pabst tall boy on the equipment. ’K? Thanks.
Electro-rockers Buddy Akai announced last Friday on Facebook that they’ve split amicably due to artistic differences. “Buddy Akai began as a project between friends, and we will continue to be close,” Rotny Najera, the band’s bassist, told CityBeat in an e-mail. “That said, there is a difference in personalities, personal goals and philosophies that has [sic] stalled the progression of the music and the band itself.” Vocalist / keyboardist Memo Rex told City- Beat that he and guitarist Waly Mayhem have started a new project, Sleepwalkerz, that will play a mix of Buddy Akai songs and new material. They’ll play their first show at U-31 on July 3 and will perform at Queen Bee’s in August as part of the North Park Music Thing.
The Locust’s Justin Pearson confirmed to CityBeat this week that All Leather, his electro-thrash outfit, has added a second drummer. Zach Fiocca, formerly of nowdefunct grindcore band 7000 Dying Rats, is joining Jung Sing on electronic drums to enhance the group’s live sound.
South Park Bar & Grill, which has come under new ownership, is canceling its Thursday-night jazz jam hosted by pianist Jay Jay Lim. Co-owner Adam Neitzke says the restaurant plans to start a “College Night” on Thursdays that will possibly host reggae bands.
Jamuel Saxon, the electro project led by Keith Milgaten, will celebrate the release of their new album, Landmines & Chandeliers, at The Park Gallery in University Heights on Friday, June 18. Rafter and The Shaky Hands will also perform. That same night, alt-rockers Deaf Zero will herald the release of their new CD at Queen Bee’s. There Will Be Waves, Jeffrey Jackson, Meluplus, Josh Damigo, Bremaedat and Cody Kink will open. On Saturday, June 19, singer-songwriter Christy Bruneau will perform at Café Libertalia to mark the release of her new CD.
The Enrique Experience
The red carpet was rolled out, the good plastic cups dusted off Sunday at the Silver Dollar (341 Third St. in Chula Vista) for the unofficial Karaoke Entertainer of the Year contest after-party. So what if the main event was held 52 miles away at Harrah’s Rincon Casino? With an Evite that started off by asking, “Are you tired of the same old ‘Dance Club Scene’? Are you tired of the violence?” who could resist?
“Look what I won!” euphoric bartender Valerie said, holding up a plaque proclaiming the joint South San Diego’s best sing-along bar. “I got it for giving killer blowjobs,” she claimed as a patron joyously murdered Europe’s “Final Countdown” on the parquet-floored stage.
An epileptic’s worst nightmare, every flashing club light developed after 1988 is housed in the Elvis Presley- and Marilyn Monroe-themed singing room. The old Hollywood glamour continues in the men’s room, where a 3D portrait of Audrey Hepburn watches you while you pee, and a discount-store soap pump is secured to the wall via a metal fastener (apparently lemongrass cleanser is quite the commodity down here).
“Don’t be shy,” karaoke jockey DJ Beer said as he made his rounds, distributing no less than eight mics around the room at a time. After witnessing the agony of homespun versions of ZZ Top’s “Tush,” Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” and Sarah McLachlan’s signature song— which made me wish I were in the arms of an angel, I decided to step up to the plate. If the lone tear that ran down my cheek during a thrilling rendition of “Seasons of Love” from the Rent soundtrack— courtesy of a barefoot patron moments earlier—didn’t out me enough, my musical selection sealed the deal: Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro.”
I belted out the last note to a room full of stunned faces. Intrigued, I later asked the septuagenarian Beer about his distinct name and figured he’d snap back with something like, “Well, Samantha Ronson was taken,” but I got stopped dead in my tracks.
“I am what I drink,” he said, taking a swig of Coors Light. “If I was what I ate, I’d be DJ Pussy.”