The Coast of Pacific Beach Restaurant Walk
May 21, 2013
Bring your appetite for a self-guided walk featuring 25 restaurants between Pacific Beach Drive and Diamond Street. See website for a list of participating restaurants.
28 other Food & Drink events on Tuesday, May 21
By Ryan Bradford
Gayle Skidmore can play over 20 instruments which, by our count, qualifies her as some sort of musical McGyver.
By Ryan Bradford
Gayle Skidmore can play over 20 instruments which, by our count, qualifies her as some sort of musical McGyver.
You’re going to have a rough time finding someone who embraces the quintessential San Diego sound more than Josh Damigo, who’s been a CityBeat friend for a long time.
ZZ Ward is like Adele’s evil twin. They both perform soulful rock with pipes that could bring a congregation to its knees, but Ward’s is markedly darker and dirtier.
After Lisa Loeb’s “Stay (I Missed You)” appeared on the Reality Bites soundtrack, Generation X seemed a whole lot softer than the self-loathing misanthropes often portrayed in grunge music.
In the hands of San Diego indie rockers Italian Japanese, the Santigold track becomes forlorn and haunting.
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In this episode of A Trolley Show, we ride along with Family Wagon, whose boozy-’n'-bluesy, hard-times rocker “Hard Times” is the perfect fit for a train ride at night.
From the first strums of The Drowning Men frontman Nato Bardeen’s mandolin, we were hooked: Not since R.E.M.’s “Losing my Religion” have we heard that instrument used so effectively. It’s ou
In this episode, The Silent Comedy’s mustachioed minstrels perform an uplifting, rousing performance of their song “Lyin.”
By Alex Zaragoza
For those who refuse to get over the “Where’s the beef?” era, there’s Porky’s Place on the corner of Calle Sexta and Avenida Revolución in Tijuana.
By Alex Zaragoza
For those who refuse to get over the “Where’s the beef?” era, there’s Porky’s Place on the corner of Calle Sexta and Avenida Revolución in Tijuana.
By Alex Zaragoza
Growing up partly in Tijuana means many things to me, but for the purpose of this column, it means this especially: Bars and I are very old friends.
By Alex Zaragoza
Last Friday night, I found myself hanging in one off Calle Sexta and Avenida Revolución, but it was nothing to fear. Unless you fear awesomeness.
By Alex Zaragoza
Weeks ago, when I told a friend I’d be writing about Tijuana nightlife, he looked at me with the eyes of a fat child at Hometown Buffet.
By Alex Zaragoza
“TJ is a shitty town where you can get really fucked up.” So slurred a friend on Saturday night as we smoked a cigarette outside Moustache, a teeny, two-story bar between Calle Sexta and Calle Septima on Madero that takes the ironic-facial-hair thing to the next level by making it the theme of the entire place.
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
By Todd Kroviak
I found myself at a multimedia art show at the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego’s La Jolla location about a month ago, spending much of my time wondering how I ended up there in the first place. Let’s just say my reaction to the sort of social hobnobbing I tend to observe at these kinds of things is not very positive, to say the least. I guess it’s just not my crowd.
By Todd Kroviak
People consume cultural products for pleasure. Music, films, television, literature, visual art, video games— these things wouldn’t exist if their goal weren’t to provide us with a heightened sense of joy or a greater appreciation for life. That said, I find the concept of the “guilty pleasure” to be one the most trite, annoying and unforgivable clichés in our cultural lexicon.
By Todd Kroviak
Listening to an interview with Devo’s Gerald Casale on American Public Media’s Marketplace radio show the other day, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how prophetic a vision the band once had—that humans had passed the point of any real progression and are in a constant state of “de-evolution,” despite any technological, social or scientific advancements that may seem like evidence to the contrary.
By Peter Holslin
A notorious wild card, Ariel Pink is just as adept at pulling off warped sonic shenanigans as sublime songwriting feats.
By Peter Holslin
A notorious wild card, Ariel Pink is just as adept at pulling off warped sonic shenanigans as sublime songwriting feats.
By Peter Holslin
L.A. duo The Milk Carton Kids play understated folk with tight vocal harmonies and soft, exquisitely executed acoustic guitar parts.
By Peter Holslin
If you've got $250 burning a hole in your pocket, you'd be wise to spend it on a ticket to this intimate, one-time-only series of shows starring one of pop's most legendary badasses.
By Peter Holslin
Marnie Stern flexes her crazy guitar skills on her new album, The Chronicles of Marnia (amazing title, by the way).
By Peter Holslin
Even Auto-Tune's detractors might have to admit that it works wonders for Poliça singer Channy Leaneagh.
By Peter Holslin
Thanks to Coachella, several rad acts have set up shows tonight, including brooding Aussie Nick Cave. Critics have been heaping praise on Cave's tense, atmospheric new album, Push the Sky Away.
By Peter Holslin
Critics have been going wild over Phosphorescent's new album, Muchacho. Partially dreamed up while main man Matthew Houck was taking refuge in a seaside Mexican community, the album's mix of gorgeous, heartrending country rockers and ballads would make even the rowdiest bar fall quiet.
By Peter Holslin
On their new album, We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic, Foxygen distill a sweeping range of rock 'n' roll styles into a smart, lush, silky-smooth sound.
By Peter Holslin
For many indie-rock fans, Jeff Mangum needs no introduction: With his odd voice and surreal lyrics, the former Neutral Milk Hotel frontman has penned a number of timeless, bewitching tunes.
By Peter Holslin
Alicia Keys will kill it, no doubt, but make sure to see fast-rising R&B star Miguel. His songs are catchy, innovative and super-duper suave.
By Jeff Terich
Some performers choose to embrace openness. And then there's Copenhagen punks Iceage. Maintaining a healthy level of ambiguity, they never reveal too much at once.
By Jeff Terich
Some performers choose to embrace openness. And then there's Copenhagen punks Iceage. Maintaining a healthy level of ambiguity, they never reveal too much at once.
By Peter Holslin
Hills Like Elephants—Davenport (keyboards, vocals), Armerding (guitar), Gregory Theilmann (synth, guitar), Daniel Gallo (bass), David Tye (drums)—is the type of band that fits comfortably in the space between “indie” and “pop.”
By Jeff Terich
Back in 2009, the members of the Tampa outfit—Carson Cox, Pat Brady and Dave Vassalotti—began recording and releasing 7-inches and cassettes of fuzzy post-punk songs, with titles like Gone Are the Silk Gardens of Youth and Terminal Jagger Jane's Addiction Box Set.
By Peter Holslin
San Diegan Daniel Kiranos, the 25-year-old murder-folk songwriter who performs under the name Amigo the Devil, is fascinated by serial killers.
By Peter Holslin
San Diegan Daniel Kiranos, the 25-year-old murder-folk songwriter who performs under the name Amigo the Devil, is fascinated by serial killers.
By Quan Vu
Charles Mitchell, aka rapper Mitchy Slick, doesn’t exactly feel welcome in his hometown. Despite being San Diego’s most famous rap export, his visit home in April was extremely low-key.
By Jeff Terich
English electro-pop singer-songwriter Charli XCX is still a few months shy of her 21st birthday, but she’s already built up one hell of a musical résumé.
By Peter Holslin
Celebrated for their innuendo-laden lyrics, infectious hooks and impressive dance moves, the guys in Turquoise Jeep—Humma, Flossy, Pretty Raheem, Slick Mahony, Tummiscratch and Whatchyamacallit—have built a rabid following.
By Peter Holslin
For too long, New Mexico has been stuck in this local-band lurch. Now, though, they’re hoping to gain more attention on a national scale.
By Peter Holslin
Fronted by veteran rocker Jennifer Herrema, Black Bananas thrives on a collagist, anything-goes approach. Their 2012 album, Rad Times Xpress IV, is a runaway choo-choo train of butt-rock riffage, electro-funk groove, bruising snarl and bong-hitting humor.
By Seth Combs
The frontman of the local folk-punk group Sledding with Tigers, Faughnder has nearly two hours of music available to download—mostly for free—on his band's website.
By Seth Combs
"Hello," says a voice on the other line. "Is this, uh, Mr. Haggard?" "Why, yes it is." Holy shit! I think. What do I ask?! This is Merle. Fucking. Haggard!
By Quan Vu
When Frankie Quiñones speaks, his soft voice carries a surprising weight. He speaks solemnly, choosing his words carefully.
By Peter Holslin
Homer Flynn works for a company called The Cryptic Corporation. His main job is to serve as a spokesperson for The Residents, an avant-garde band from San Francisco whose members maintain their anonymity.
By Alex Zaragoza
In this space, I like to have an overarching theme so that anyone who's into one of the events has two other options that may also pique their interest. It's like Pandora.
By Alex Zaragoza
In this space, I like to have an overarching theme so that anyone who's into one of the events has two other options that may also pique their interest. It's like Pandora.
By Alex Zaragoza
Waking up after a night of raging, one often feels a tad unfulfilled. Other than a hangover and a stranger snoring next to you in bed, what was the point of all that?
By Alex Zaragoza
If you’re anything like me, Valentine’s Day won’t be spent on a bearskin rug in front of a crackling fireplace. It won’t even involve drinking a combination of red wine and salted lonely tears.
By Alex Zaragoza
Ever since I downloaded Spotify’s Blue Note app, which allows you to access the entire Blue Note Records catalog, I’ve been on a major jazz bender.
By Alex Zaragoza
In the movie Pulp Fiction, Mia Wallace, as played by Uma Thurman, says there are two kinds of people in the world: Elvis people and Beatles people. Someone can like both, but never in the same amount. This is a test that reveals a lot about a person.
By Alex Zaragoza
Dancing is a hell of a drug. Maybe it’s because I’m a somewhat young woman who enjoys a good groove, but hitting a dance floor after a long, stressful week has some sort of healing effect on me.
By Alex Zaragoza
Recently, a good friend asked me which bars and clubs are cool places to hang in Chula Vista. Despite being from “The Chul,” as no one but me calls it, I was at a loss for good ideas.
By Alex Zaragoza
If that teaser got you jonesing for an ’80s night where you can Wang Chung harder than Lamar from Revenge of the Nerds, head to The Flame (3780 Park Blvd. in Hillcrest) on Thursday, Jan. 10.
By Alex Zaragoza
The last few weeks have been pretty stressful. Christmas, the Mayan apocalypse and then New Year's Eve were all major events. (OK, so the apocalypse turned out to be not so major.)
By Alex Zaragoza
Last week, we wrestled down a major project, our annual New Year’s Eve Guide—or, as I refer to it, the Stress-Induced Nightmare-Causing Guide. We listed a whopping 100 parties, dinners and shows, but, as it usually goes, there were some events that came in late.
By Scott McDonald
Obits frontman Rick Froberg spent 20 years playing guitar and singing in legendary San Diego indie-rock bands Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes.
By Scott McDonald
Obits frontman Rick Froberg spent 20 years playing guitar and singing in legendary San Diego indie-rock bands Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes.
By Seth Combs
It’s a bit annoying when your photographer’s trying to take a photo of the two of you for the last Shot on Scene and you’re photobombed by two hipster cuties making duckfaces. Thanks, l
By Seth Combs
It’s a bit annoying when your photographer’s trying to take a photo of the two of you for the last Shot on Scene and you’re photobombed by two hipster cuties making duckfaces. Thanks, l
By Seth Combs
You know what’s great about a place like Henry’s Pub that separates it from all the corporate-bullshit bars that come and go in the Gaslamp? The fact that you can show up on a Thursday night
By Seth Combs
Touristy clubs—let’s call them “trubs”—are a dime a dozen in the Gaslamp, and the reigning trub queen is Whiskey Girl, which just reopened in a new location.
By Seth Combs
Remember when Mardi Gras was just about a little indulgence before fasting for Lent and not about getting shit-faced, collecting worthless beads and showing your privates to strangers? Yeah, well, nob
By Seth Combs
Remember Dreamstreet? It’s likely that every local-music fan saw a bad band or three at the Ocean Beach venue before it closed last May. It was replaced by a sports bar called Mother’s Ocean
By Seth Combs
Last Wednesday, James Brennan, co-owner of Stingaree nightclub, wrote an op-ed in the U-T San Diego that railed against Democrats for wanting to raise capital-gains taxes. Then, on Saturday night, a b
By Seth Combs
Is U-31 turning into a Pacific Beach-style bro bar? Is Quality Social the next Downtown hipster destination? The booker for U-31 jumped ship for QS, while U-31’s Saturday night was a UFC fight. T
By Seth Combs
Let’s just put aside the fact that the name sounds like a kids cartoon that may cause epileptic seizures. The funniest part about The Dragon Ball at Club M at the Grand Del Mar on Saturday
By Seth Combs
And here I thought nothing would rival the Great Potato Famine, Bennigan's restaurants and Lucky Charms when it came to terrible events in Irish history.
By Seth Combs
Really?! ’Cause I heart dubstep about as much I heart the whole circa-2002 trucker-hat trend.
By Peter Holslin
With its unpredictable forays into funky samba drumming and churchy pipe organ, the varied effort brims with wonderment.
By Peter Holslin
With its unpredictable forays into funky samba drumming and churchy pipe organ, the varied effort brims with wonderment.
By Seth Combs
One could argue that every “garage rock” band throughout history was actually nothing but a wannabe pop band that didn’t have the pipes or the chops to make something wholly original. They know how to craft a hook, and they can harmonize a little, but they sure as hell ain’t The Rolling Stones.
By Quan Vu
Johaz The Alina Marin Theory (self-released) Johaz has been relatively quiet. While fellow Deep Rooted member Mr. Brady has released a bevy of EPs and albums since the group’s last album in
By Peter Holslin
The Big Thank You Guardian Angel Roadside Chapel: Demos & Retakes (self-released) My copy of Guardian Angel Roadside Chapel came with two curious little pills and a handwritten note instr
By Seth Combs
The good news about Jesse LaMonaca’s new album is that, while it lacks cohesiveness, the singer-songwriter makes up for it with an enlightened sense of pop songcraft and a voice that the listener just can’t help but believe.
By Seth Combs
One thing that Endoxi does have going for them is the production, which is crisp for a self-released affair.
By Quan Vu
Room E Penguin Child (Brilliant Something) Once you discover that Room E is a skinny Asian dude who produces instrumental hip-hop, you might be tempted to think of that other skinny Asian dude who produces instrumental hip-hop: Nosaj Thing, who sits at the center of L.A.’s thriving beat scene. But the labels —musical and ethnic—are where the similarities end. While Nosaj Thing and his cohorts mine production glitches to conjure new shades of darkness, Room E embraces a lighthearted aesthetic on Penguin Child, his first full-length album.
By Seth Combs
In many ways, Gonjasufi’s 2010 album A Sufi and a Killer was the most underrated and overrated release of that year.
By Peter Holslin
Well, spank that mechanical bull and call me Sally—San Diego is crawling with Americana bands!
By Peter Holslin
With his undeniable talents, B.Slade has earned the right to be a little pompous.
By Peter Holslin
At the Sept. 21 kickoff of Bajaton, a new moombahton night at U-31, the bar was only about half full, but something about the music—perhaps it was the combination of manic synths and massive, syncopated bass drums—was driving people crazy.
By Peter Holslin
At the Sept. 21 kickoff of Bajaton, a new moombahton night at U-31, the bar was only about half full, but something about the music—perhaps it was the combination of manic synths and massive, syncopated bass drums—was driving people crazy.
By Melissa Martin
Kelsea Little named her bundle of joy after the three great Neils—Diamond, Young and Innes, the comic songwriter of Monty Python fame. But her Neil isn’t a baby; it’s a 7-foot-tall harp.
By Seth Combs
Back when I first reported on Beaters in early 2009, I had a good feeling that their skuzzy, drug-punk anthems would soon make every indie hipster from here to Williamsburg cream in his jeggings. Sure enough, once pubs like Vice and Stereogum caught wind of the single, “Fishage,” next-big-thing fever took hold and a lot of black-frame glasses were fogged up in the process.
But then frontman Jeremy Rojas did something unexpected. Instead of striking while the lo-fi iron was hot, he stopped making Beaters music.
“It wasn’t really a conscious decision to focus on other things. It was more circumstantial,” Rojas says. “Beaters lost our bass player because he moved to New York, so that put a little hold on things.”
This might not necessarily be a bad thing. A lot of bands tend to rush out a follow-up single once that initial song garners attention. But fickle music geeks tend to write the new single off and just move on to the next hot, shiny band of the moment. And if bands like Salem, Cults and The Weeknd have proven anything, it’s that taking your time helps lend an air of mystery to a group and build up anticipation for the next release.
Lately, Rojas has been focusing on the band Ale Mania with his musical soulmate Andrew Montoya (who plays bass in Beaters). But Rojas says he’s ready to get back to Beaters. They’ll play their first show in nearly a year-and-a-half at Soda Bar on Saturday, Aug. 20 (along with Bleached, Heavy Hawaii and Plateaus), and Rojas plans to debut new songs on the group’s Bandcamp page (beaters.bandcamp.com) during the next few months, with a full-length to follow.
“I’ve been working on new Beaters material this whole time,” says Rojas, who plans to unleash at least one new song on Saturday. “I definitely want to pick up where we left off.”
So, wash your pants and clean your glasses. They’re back.
By Alex Zaragoza
San Diego’s jazz scene is surprisingly poppin’. I say “surprisingly” because whenever I think of jazz, or, rather, good jazz, I imagine it happening in cool underground nightclubs full of cigarette smoke and old men drinking scotch.
By Alex Zaragoza
San Diego’s jazz scene is surprisingly poppin’. I say “surprisingly” because whenever I think of jazz, or, rather, good jazz, I imagine it happening in cool underground nightclubs full of cigarette smoke and old men drinking scotch.
By Alex Zaragoza
I know that it’s all about craft or vintage cocktails nowadays. Cocktail snobs get a big ol’ boner drinking a concoction made from a recipe found in a book printed in 1845.
By Alex Zaragoza
Contrary to popular belief, Mexicans who live in Mexico don’t celebrate Cinco de Mayo. Growing up in Tijuana, I never saw a single Mexican flag strapped to a pickup truck roaring through stop signs and honking like crazy on May 5.
By Alex Zaragoza
A new week is here, and with it comes the exhausting process of finding new reasons to get your drink on. I feel bad for those people who wait for weddings or their own birthdays to get tipsy enough to act like buffoons.
By Alex Zaragoza
Weekend No. 1 of Coachella has passed, and I, for one, had no interest in attending. Two of my all-time favorite bands, Blur and The Stone Roses, are headliners; and even so, I gave a firm "hell no" to anyone who asked if I would attend.
By Alex Zaragoza
Quinceañeras and Mexican weddings are amazing for lots of reasons, but mostly for the free-flowing tequila and the effect it has on all the tias that hit the dance floor.
By Alex Zaragoza
Spring break is in full swing in this warm and beautiful metropolis by the sea. While San Diego can’t hold a candle to Florida when it comes to wet-T-shirt contests, hot-tub parties and other Spring Break-type hijinks, we still have some wildin’-out fun to offer.
By Alex Zaragoza
For quite some time now, I’ve been privy to some salacious Facebook and Instagram posts about a mysterious monthly event at Prohibition (548 Fifth Ave., Downtown) simply known as The Weird-Off.
By Alex Zaragoza
Heather Locklear made a great career move in the 1990s when she joined the cast of Melrose Place as a special guest star. She was so good as Amanda Woodward, the mega-bitch ad executive, that she never left the show.
By Alex Zaragoza
Every year, the arrival of St. Patrick’s Day brings out the belligerent Irishman in plenty of us, even those who don’t have an ounce of Irish blood in them.
By Peter Holslin
Abandon all hope, ye who enter the pit at a Hot Snakes show.
By Peter Holslin
Abandon all hope, ye who enter the pit at a Hot Snakes show.
By Andrew Scoggins
With his black jacket, greased-back hair and trademark sunglasses hanging from the collar of a red Hawaiian shirt, Crocodiles singer Brandon Welchez looked like a hipster rock star at Ducky Waddle’s Emporium last Wednesday.
By Seth Combs
New Mexico is still one of the best bands in San Diego. Period.
By Seth Combs
Once LaValle took the stage a little before midnight, joined by a cast of new and old bandmates, the crowd seemed a little restless. Luckily, they stuck around for LaValle’s 13-song set.
By Peter Holslin
Coda Reactor wants to bring hardcore back, one mosh pit at a time. At Eleven in City Heights last week, the local punk band threw down a 30-minute set of supercharged, three-chord rock.
By Peter Holslin
Last Saturday, I headed to Tijuana to check out All My Friends Music Festival, a daylong event held at a tacky, rundown mansion on the edge of a cliff.
By Peter Holslin
During the past year, Los Macuanos have been garnering quite a bit of buzz: The Tijuana electro band has played in San Francisco and New York City and at South by Southwest, and they’ve been praised by NPR and MTV for their forward-thinking brand of ruidosón music.
