(04.20.08) Recommends:

The LA64.

(explanation of series here.)

This entry is going to be an LA64 Blast! as we go through a bunch of our favorite things super-quick style (because it will take us a hundred years to get through 64 things if we continue writing such long blog posts about each topic).

#50: Intelligentsia Coffee.
3920 W. Sunset Blvd.


This is probably our favorite picture we've taken since we've been here. There's the awesome medieval style Cheese Store of Silverlake sign in the foreground. There's the awesome Sunset Junction sign in the midground. In the far right background you can see the Griffith Park Observatory. And a little further to the left you can see the Hollywood sign, framed by palm trees. And there is nothing but crystal clear blue skies all around. Coffee at Intelligentsia on a morning like this is why people will always desire to move to Los Angeles.

#49: The Hotel Cafe.
1623 1/2 N. Cahuenga Blvd.


This is one of the more intimate music venues -- but neither a hotel nor a cafe -- we've been to in LA. We've blogged about it previously. We've seen Meiko perform here probably a half dozen times. We've seen Ben Lee perform here -- he only played about three songs, including the finale which he labeled "a march against apathy" and during which he completely lost his shit, playing into the crowd and on top of tables. That single song was one of the most amazing live performances we've ever witnessed. And we've also seen Mandy Moore -- whowhatwhenwherewhy? -- perform here. We don't know if the mix of those acts reveals something secret about us, but we'll continue coming back.

#48: The Franklin Strip.
Franklin Ave. between Tamarind Ave. and N. Bronson Ave.


The Franklin Strip is a one block section of Franklin Village. For only one block it has an impressive array of shops, bars, restaurants, bookstore/record shop/art space, coffee shops, and comedy clubs.

#47: Prizzi's Piazza.
5923 Franklin Ave.



Prizzi's is located on the Franklin Strip and is far and away the tastiest pizza we've had in Los Angeles, and rivals any pizza we've had anywhere. We were a bit skeptical when we first entered because all of the best pizzeria's to which we've previously been are low key, unpretentious, hole in the way, neighborhood dives. And this place has really arty decor and comes off as a touch fancy. But if we can all agree that the mark of worthy pizza is if it tastes equally as good when you have it as leftovers as when you have it at the restaurant, than there's not much better than Prizzi's. Luckily for us, it's within walking distance. If you live reasonably near by this is a must must must try.

(04.17.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#51: The Echo.
1822 Sunset Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)

The Echo is another in the Pantheon of LA indie rock venues. We would start this entry off with an exterior shot of it but frankly, despite driving by the joint several times a week, we still cannot actually find it unless there's a show going on inside -- and hence a doorman standing outside. But rock shows are much more fun when you're on the inside anyway. One great thing about the venue is that it's, as the name suggests, located in Echo Park. So before even stepping in, it gives us a perfectly legitimate reason to stop in to the Short Stop, a dive that demonstrates that Neighborhood Locals, Hipsters, and Dodgers Fans are not necessarily mutually exclusive groups. The power of PBR knows few bounds.



We stopped by for a recent Afternoons show. Afternoons is an offshoot of Irving, a band that we really love. Below are some pics.








We really love the following pic because we are always very reluctant using a flash at shows. And luckily for us, this one didn't require the use of a flash because the sheen from the jacket worn by the gentleman in front of us let off sufficient light. We kiiiid, we kiiiid!



Okay, so here's the thing. If you think we're talkative on the blog, just imagine what we're like in Real Life. At one point in the night we took a breather from the joyous music. We started chatting up a friendly-looking female. Then, like 45 seconds into the conversation, we were left with this:



Figuring that we had literally charmed this poor girl to death, we took her pulse. Satisfied that her heart was making its normal tick-tock sound, we put our heads down and slyly bolted the hell out of the venue.

But not before grabbing one more pic of the band of the night.

(04.13.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#52: Largo.
432 N. Fairfax.

(explanation of series here.)



The theme of yesterday was Homecomings. We started the day blogging about the topic, and ended the day with one at Largo.

First, a little about Largo. It's more dinner theater than rock venue. It has a tiny stage and a room with tables to fit about 100. In addition, there is a bar that fits another probably 10 people. The shows are very intimate, in part because the place is tiny, in part because the venue has strict anti-talking policies, and in part because artists come to Largo to push their boundaries and experiment in front of polite and well-versed audiences. The club is perhaps most known for its Friday night Jon Brion residency. Brion has used the Largo stage to introduce to larger audiences the likes of Aimee Mann, Fiona Apple, Elliott Smith, and Rhett Miller.

Which brings us to last night. Rhett Miller is a long-time blog favorite. Here's a old post/ode to the Old 97s that sums up most of our feelings toward Rhett and the Old 97s. We had heard whispers that Largo was closing this month [1]. We had also heard that Largo had called home old favorite Rhett Miller to put on two solo shows before the club closed. Finally, we heard that the set of shows was to be recorded and released as an album; Rhett's personal tribute to his years at Largo. With these facts and rumors in front of us, we headed out to Largo.

Table reservations at Largo usually sell out quickly. So your only hope is to show up and try to get a coveted bar stool spot. With doors set to open at 8:30, we rolled up at 8 and had no problem getting in.


In addition to music, Largo plays an important role in the Los Angeles comedy world. As such, many shows feature both comedy and music. Last night was no exception, as the comedy warm up act turned into something of a Rhett Miller roast. The room was really buzzing with excitement for the show -- probably nobody more so than Rhett.



This night was clearly important to him: his wife was in the audience, he played some of his all time favorite songs that will appear on the live record (off the top of our head we remember covers of Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, The Kinks, The Ramones, The Pixies, Tom Petty, Simon and Garfunkel, Pete Seeger), and he appeared to get a little misty eyed at times regaling the audience with old war stories both of Largo and of recording sessions in general, including a pretty funny one about a time Waylon Jennings recorded "Old Brown Shoe" with the Old 97s, which led to Rhett playing an awesome version in which he'd start off doing his best Waylon Jennings voice and then would flawlessly and effortlessly segue into full-on Rhett cowpunk glory.



It was a classic Rhett show. We've stopped trying to figure out why he's not one of the biggest rock stars on the planet. We just go and enjoy the shows now, unencumbered by what-ifs and why-nots. And last night, my oh my, it was special. There are few things we enjoy more than seeing great artists channeling their talents in intimate spaces, but when it's Rhett Miller on a night that was so obviously important to him -- well, that makes for a show that we'll remember for a long, long time.





---
[1] Largo as it as now known is, in fact, closing. However, the owners are opening a larger (and therefore presumably less intimate) space on La Cienega.

(04.06.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#53: The Alexander Ruler of the World Building.
830 N. Van Ness.

(explanation of series here.)

As we've previously mentioned, when we first started[1] driving to work in the mornings we often tried to find secret routes! that would cut down on the commute time. As we've previously mentioned, this task, somewhat paradoxically, always always always just adds to the time.

However. Sometimes, when the secret routes! align just right, you are prone to see something the likes of which is rarely seen by human eyes. Like, e.g., the Alexander Ruler of the World Building. Before we get to a full shot of this building, the story must be properly set up. First, the area is completely residential, with nondescript houses and apartments. It is relevant to note this fact, because before the full glory of the AROTWB reveals itself, the driver stumbles upon this:



Now, accuse us of having our minds in the gutter, or of having an unrefined sense of architecture, but when we see a gigantic pinkish-purplish wall, we fully expect that the establishment will be called The Pink Poodle, or The Pink Flamingo, or The Pink Rhino, or The Pink Taco, or The Pink Burrito (are there strip clubs called The Pink Burrito? We don't know the answer to that, but we're pretty sure there should be). So, you can understand our confusion at seeing what we presumed was either a brothel or a strip club right there in the middle of an unassuming residential street.

At this point, we know what you're thinking: but this is LA, bro-sauce; things are just different here!

And you are right. This is LA. Things are different. And hence, instead of a strip club, you get perhaps the only thing more incomprehensible for a residential neighborhood.

You get this:



You get an apartment building decked out in full Ancient Greek theme. What kills us about this picture is that, to the dude walking in front of the building, there is absolutely nothing strange with this scene. It's like every morning, he wakes up, goes for a 7am walk, and passes an apartment building that non-subtly pays tribute to one of the most successful military commanders in history. No harm, no foul.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

---
[1] We use the phrase "first started" in a delusional attempt to persuade ourselves and others that we've learned and grown and matured as Los Angeles drivers. However, we were reminded again this weekend that we have learned nothing from our wayward driving past. On Friday, we were headed out on a Silverlake adventure with a friend much smarter and reasonable than ourselves. We were convinced -- convinced! -- that staying on whatever street we were on would take an offensive amount of time. So we hooked a left. We ended up roughly in Arizona. What John McCain and the Elderly Set previously had in common with Silverlake and the Hipster Set is unclear. What should be clear is that The Silverlake Adventure obviously didn't last long. [2]

[2] Of course, in reality [3], the Adventure didn't last long due to another Lesson Learned But Soon Forgotten, the details of which need not be rehashed here. Also: for the good of humanity, they need not be rehashed on any other blog.

[3] Reality has a funny way of requiring lots and lots of footnotes.

(04.03.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#54: Spaceland.
1717 Silverlake Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)




Spaceland (background reading here and here) is one of the most important and influential indie rock clubs in the country. We remember growing up -- the end of high school and through college -- when a band we liked would release their touring schedule, we'd breathlessly check the list to see how close to home they'd be coming. More often than not we'd see the name Spaceland on the itinerary. So seeing a show here was one of our first priorities once we moved down.

We've seen probably a half-dozen rock shows here since. But we've gotta say. The most memorable shows that we've seen have been the random Sunday night Neil Hamburger comedy shows. Neil Hamburger is a modern day Tony Clifton. And we keep coming back to Neil Hamburger becuase, in the back of our minds, we have this feeling that one random Sunday it will be revealed, on that tiny Spaceland stage, that Neil Hamburger is, in fact, the long rumored re-surfacing of Andy Kaufman.

(04.01.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#55: The View From Mt. Olympus.
Achilles Dr.

(explanation of series here.)



Some of our fondest memories of Los Angeles are the times that we've been called by our oldest friend in Los Angeles -- okay, by this we mean the friend from Los Angeles we've known the longest, not actually the oldest person we know in Los Angeles (though it seems worth noting in this space that this friend has now claimed to be 25-years old for the entire four year duration of our friendship. Now that we put it all together, it is very likely that she's in the Witness Protection Plan) -- to the top of Mount Olympus.

These calls usually end in a night that includes an amazing shabu shabu dinner with endless bottles of wine and music and merriment. At some point in the night, we usually lose a game of Scrabble. [1] After all the shabu shabu (and don't think we're kidding around when we say we can poke around for like three hours feeding ourselves with beef and shrimp and whatever other magical hot pot goodness is in there), we often strip down into bright yellow swimming trunks and marinate, hot tub style. With the above stunning view of LA before us. In fact, it was probably during one of these shabu shabu-wine-Scrabble-being-on-the-top-of-the-mountain induced experiences that gave us the courage to pull the trigger and move back to Los Angeles.

You should note that, for all the merits of this view, you cannot get a sense of the hellish traffic below. Therefore, as lovely as we'll always find this view, we do think it's something of a material misrepresentation of life in Los Angeles.

But we'll take it, we'll take it, we'll take it.



[1] Of course we are merely being diplomatic here, in the hopes of being invited back. For the record, we've never lost a Scrabble match on the top of Mt. Olympus. Frankly, we can only recall losing three Scrabble matches in our entires lives. And if you challenge this assertion, we say, bring it on, mofo.

(03.31.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#56: The Griddle Cafe.
7916 W Sunset Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)



We like waking up on the weekends and making pancakes. We cannot always, however, vouch for their tasteyness. Therefore, if you find yourself in LA, and in need of a pancake fix, there's really only one option: Griddle Cafe. Their pancakes -- and we're not exaggerating here -- are bigger than your face. You will be unable to eat, and probably move, for no less than three days. We would try to spend paragraphs exalting the virtues of this place, but frankly, words are insufficient here. So we'll just give this: If you were to reduce Griddle Cafe pancakery to an SAT question, you would have:

Griddle Cafe: LA pancakes:: Arthur Bryant's: KC bbq.

One more thing worth mentioning, now that we're reviewing that picture. You'll notice a really long line. Regardless of time or day, there's always such a line outside this place. You'll also notice the female: male ratio in the picture to be roughly 5:1 (wait, is that what they mean by the Golden Ratio?) And that should end the discussion right there. Any pancake place that serves pancakes bigger than your face, in a stack thicker than your thighs, and still gets that many females clamoring to queue up has to be amazing, right?

Right.

Go already. You'll thank us later.

(03.29.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#58: Merry Karnowski Gallery.
170 S. La Brea Ave.

#57: Shepard Fairey.

(explanation of series here.)

It feels like Shepard Fairey is an artist whose work we've always known. Obviously this can't be right; at some point we came across an Andre the Giant sticker and through due diligence discovered Shep as the mastermind. Growing up, we were huge fans of both the WWF and the absurd (query whether there is actually a difference between mid-80s WWF and absurdity) so our affinity for Shep comes pretty naturally.

We've taken advantage of seeing his work in a formal setting; we've attended opening receptions at Exhibit A Gallery:



and at Merry Karnowski Gallery:



We've stopped into Merry Karnowski Gallery a few other times. There's always something interesting being shown there. From what we can tell, it's widely regarded as one of the most important galleries in LA for cutting edge and underground art. And Shep, of course, is known primarily as being an underground artist, a street artist. So the thing that we've really come to
appreciate about him is that he makes us question our assumptions about what should be considered Serious Art and what should be considered Underground Art.

See, we grew up in a family that demanded respect for Serious Art. When our family would go on vacation, part of the drill would be to visit the local art museums. And we have very fond memories of these excursions. But here's the thing. Going to a Serious Art museum always felt -- still feels -- like a Big Event. You have to Dress Presentably. You have to speak in Hushed Tones. You have to Behave Yourself. These are all manners of behavior that no doubt have there required place in a civilized world. But.

But. It feels so stiff, you know? Isn't art supposed to inspire, to make the days more bearable, to create the unexpectancies that make life so exciting?

On the other hand, the other day we were just walking to the Beachwood Market, the local market that serves our neighborhood, Beachwood Canyon, and we happened to stumble upon this awesome Shep guerrilla job:



You may recall another Obama-inspired Shep piece that we stumbled upon during a Silverlake blogging adventure from earlier this month:



And seeing this kind of stuff makes us really, really giddy. That's what art is supposed to do, right? So here's the thing. Maybe Serious Art should actually be considered Underground Art. Because Underground -- at least to us -- suggests something that isn't experienced every day. And the Good Lord (along with our co-workers) knows that Dressing Presentably, speaking in Hushed Tones, and Behaving Ourselves just doesn't regularly occur. And, between working and carrying out the bare minimum necessary to get by -- eating and showering, we're thinking -- it's increasingly difficult to actually get to a museum during official museum hours, yaknow?

The flip side to this, of course, is that Shep should actually be considered Serious Art. And this makes sense. Shep takes it to the street; he adds unexpectancy and vibrancy and vitality to our daily view. He adds the color to our every day aesthetic that is both surprising and completely necessary.

Finally, we understand that there's a fine line between street art and vandalism. But we think Shep has demonstrated knowledge in navigating that line. And that makes his vision very necessary to our culture. It's a vision that demands respect from us all.

(03.29.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#59: The Old LA Weekly Building.
6715 Sunset Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)


They say a picture is worth a thousand words. A picture of words? We don't know how much they say that's worth. But, we're sure we can all agree that the words pictured are words to live by.

(03.26.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#60: Blue Neighborhood Signs.

(explanation of series here.)

We like to discover a town not by map, but by just getting in the car and getting lost. But for neighborhood-centric cities, one of the most apparent shortfalls of this method is that it takes a while to figure out the contours of the various neighborhoods. That's what is so genius about LA's decision to plaster blue signs to announce the official and unofficial boundaries of neighborhoods. You can never go more than about a half mile without learning where you are!

We recommend checking back to this post often, because we plan to continue documenting the blue signs we come across, and when we do, we'll be sure to post them here.

(03.25.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#61: Brunch at Chateau Marmont.
8221 W Sunset Boulevard.

(explanation of series here.)


So, we were first taken here by family of family of a family friend. Or something like that. Neither party was exactly sure of the connection, but we were pretty floored by the generosity. Taking a wagon full of ne'er-do-wells such as ourselves to brunch is more than we could ever reasonably expect from others. But time and again -- as we've mentioned here several times -- the people we've come across in LA have showered us with enough hospitality to make a midwestern mother's son blush. And we think that's a tremendous storyline, and one underreported by makers of city stereotypes.

(03.25.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#62: The Mendel's Hollyway Cleaners Sign.
8359 Santa Monica Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)


When we first moved down to LA -- okay, we realize that this is the second post in a row that starts with that phrase and we promise to stop it -- we found ourselves driving by this sign every morning to make sure that (a) it hadn't disappeared during the night, or (b) we hadn't just dreamed it up. LA does not have a ton of stunning architectural highlights, but what it lacks it more than makes up in awesome signage (we're predicting a good 30 of the LA64 could be signs -- we told you we're pretty new here).

Has either Mr. Mendel or this sign appeared in a Simpson's episode yet? We're pretty sure neither has and we're pretty sure there's not a reasonable explanation for such absence.

While we whole-heartedly recommend this sign, we've never actually used the cleaner. And we only mention this because it's received some pretty crappy yelp reviews.

(03.22.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#63: The View From Everett Park.
Everett Street, One Block North of Sunset.

(explanation of series here.)

When we first moved down to LA, we were not willing to surrender to the fact that LA has crappy traffic. We were convinced for a brief period of time -- such time has long since passed, mind you -- that we could find secret routes! that would make our morning commute more manageable. The interesting thing about this is that, with certain big caveats, we are believers in the power of free markets. So it is unclear to us why we believed that, in a town with literally millions of commuters, we could just show up one day and find a route that nobody had yet discovered. [Whether this should be classified as being stubborn or delusional, we'll leave for you to decide.]

Anyway. What would inevitably happen while looking for secret routes! is that we would get completely, hopelessly lost. And getting unlost would just add another 45 vein-popping, nerve-shattering minutes to the commute.

What changed a lot for us was the time we got lost in Everett Park. Everett Park is somewhere either in or between Echo Park and Downtown. We realized that we were headed North and were driving up a Big Fucking Hill. We work more south and on Flat Land. Something was Seriously Wrong. Until we turned around and saw this:


And at this point, two things happened. One, it hit us that we actually lived and worked in Los Angeles, and this was a kinda exciting realization. Two, it occurred to us that everything would turn out okay.

We like this story because we think there's truth in it, corny though it may be. We are human and thus it is our wont to feel confused and sad and anxious at times. But sometimes, at the height of that confusion, sadness, and anxiety, the best course of action is to simply turn around and look at our surroundings. Sometimes, when we feel the most unsure, it turns out that we're actually just at the top of the mountain, overlooking our kingdom.

Of course, it also helped that Everett Park has a sign that reminded us, once again, that we are a government of laws and not of men:

(03.21.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#64: The Silver Lake Lounge.
2906 W Sunset Blvd.

(explanation of series here.)


So, the Silver Lake Lounge. This one will throw the midwesterns for a loop: during the week it's a full on gay bar, then on the weekends, the place takes a break and transforms itself into a hipster indie rock bar. LA is smooth like that.

The place is our kind of place to see a show. Regardless of the weather outside, it is always dark, dark, dark inside. It's small and gets crowded and the sound can get sketchy and the sight lines can get sketchy. But when the stars align, the club is capable of putting on the Most Compelling Live Show You've Ever Seen. The bar is narrow and opens to a small stage off to the back left. The stage is adored with an illuminated sign that says "Salvation." With all the cynicism and sarcasm and detachment and aloofness in our society, there's something that devastates us about that sign.




The last time we were there we caught a great show by the Dodos. This morning the Dodos got a great write up on pitchfork. The Silver Lake Lounge gets a shoot out in the review. Good job, peeps.

(03.20.08) Recommends:

The LA64.

So as we find ourselves at the start of another round of March Madness, we also find ourselves at the end of our first six months living in Los Angeles. And we thought we would use the tourney as a hook to reflect back on what we've discovered since we moved down from the Bay Area. So starting later today, and continuing throughout the tournament, we will present, in full photoblogging glory, the 64 people, places, and things in Los Angeles that get us excited to wake up in the morning and reluctant to go to bed at night. [1] They will be presented in an order that is meant to portray whimsy, not preference. We hope everybody learns a little from it.

If you see us out and about documenting the city we love, don't be shy -- come up and say hi! Who knows, you may be or become one of our 64 favorite things in this city.



[1] Some people may claim that, despite all the awesomeness surrounding us, we still manage to be conked out cold, every night, by 11pm. The veracity of these claims, alas, will not be considered during this blogging experiment.