Enduring The Holidays With Buddyhead

At several occasions over the past few months, various people who I associate with, whom one could consider attached to the local LA music scene- but not too attached, because then they’d be far too weird for me to deal with- made reference to some sort of “Buddyhead” thing that they would “see me at.”

When people who talk a lot say things I don’t understand, such as “see you at the Buddyhead thing,” I tend to just kinda filter it out, reasoning that if it’s really that important or interesting, I’ll hear it again and again until I’m finally motivated to Google it or whatever. Social Darwinism. And this was the case with the Buddyhead thing. After hearing about it over and over again, one day when I got a text from a really nice dude I see at almost every single show I go to- no matter where in the country it is- telling me that tickets to the Buddyhead thing were on sale online for ten bucks, I finally gave in. I asked what the fuck this Buddyhead thing was. I was led eventually to a flyer promoting “The Umpteenth Buddyhead Holiday Ho Ho Hodeo” featuring Josh Homme of Queens Of The Stone Age, The Entrance Band, Dean Fertita of the Raconteurs, Xu Xu Fang, Aaron North and Alessandro Cortini of Nine Inch Nails, Jeordie ‘Twiggy’ White of Marilyn Manson, Sweethead, Tony Bevilacqua of Spinnerette, Nick Jago of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and a bunch of other really interesting sounding artists. I was sold. With doors to the very chill Hotel Café opening at seven, it seemed like a fine way to spend an evening.

We got there before seven, and the doors didn’t open until eight or so. Everyone in Hollywood smokes, and we must have gotten two packs’ worth of secondhand standing around with the hipsters, trying not to hear the stupid Hollywood shit they were talking about- which friend of which friend is in which band now and what scene royalty they were most recently mingling with.

When we finally got in, we were treated to poetry readings by a dude named Ryan Ritchie. They were mostly holiday related from what I recall, autobiographical. It was cute stuff, ranging from disgruntled to mean-spirited. It set a good tone.

Next up was a dude named Brandon Intelligator and his band, the Sheriffs. I couldn’t tell if Brandon was Mexican or Jewish… But he was channeling Elvis. Lots of reverb. Lots and lots of reverb. But it wasn’t bad at all. If you head to his MySpace, the songs posted there sound pretty much exactly like what we heard last night.

Then it was Tsk Tsk, followed by Sid Brown, and a dude named Todd Congelliere. Tsk Tsk confused the shit out of me. It was fronted by some hippie chick with dreadlocks sitting down with a guitar, backed by a couple sceney looking girls, one on violin, the other… just trying to sing like Mazzy Star. Only with less energy, if you can imagine that. Dreadlock girl announced that their music came from “many inspirations,” but that tonight, its inspiration would be “dreams.” They proceeded to do a two song set- two cover songs. I don’t get why you’d say something like that before playing other people’s songs, but whatever. It was the worst (and possibly longest) version of Wild Horses I’ve ever heard, followed by a what was either a really bad cover of a good song, or a faithful cover of a really bad song.

Sid Brown was even worse- possibly the worst I’ve ever seen. Three huge red flags were thrown onto the field- #1) Their setup time was longer than the entirety of their set as they fiddled with lights they had brought in a duffel bag, #2) Their rhythm section was an iPod, and #3) They had a dancer onstage- a trashy, ugly, LA stripper that looked like a tranny. All she did was dance, badly. They played two songs- both were less than two chords- just two notes each, back and forth. It was the most annoying shit ever. A girl behind me overheard me bitching to a photographer about how bad they were, and informed me that “usually, they’re way better.” I told the girl that I would be fair and look them up- and I did- and yes, the songs on the band’s MySpace sound much much better than anything they played last night. Still, while they usually bring two ugly dancers onstage, the lack of talent is so obvious, it’d take more than two sleazy whores with no tits to distract me from it.

Todd Congelliere, on the other hand, was much better than Tsk Tsk and Sid Brown combined.

The next band was one of very few distinct highlights. They were called- they are called- Dios Malos. I had never heard of them before, but they’ve got it. Real talent, and a great attitude. The second song they did was entitled (I believe) Steel & Glass, and it was not only the most entrancing performance of the otherwise hellish show last night, but of the most recent handful of shows I’ve made it to. I wish it was on their MySpace page. Regardless, we’ll be hunting them down for an in-depth piece here on Antiquiet sometime soon.

Some great excerpts from their bio:

We understand that being from LA has its stigmas to certain folks… Well, fuck you. I, personally, am an LA aficionado, and I resent the fact that true Angelinos have to put up with fucked up labels and misconceptions because of people who move here from other shitholes to act, start shitty bands, and/or get in “the business.” LA is more than just rats’ nests like Hollywood, Silverlake, and the Westside. It has a tremendous amount of culture and history that is simultaneously ignored, exploited, and trashed by these fuckheads. Luckily, we’re from a different part of LA.

We like things that are genuine, soulful, and dirty. It isn’t always beneficial for a band to defy categorization, which is why we are generally disregarded in LA, and at war with douchebag promoters that really don’t know shit anyways. Despite all that there are kind folks out there that support us and come up to us at shows, or on our website, and really make us feel good about our efforts. We’ve definitely had many good years being in this band and we’re gonna be doing it for many more.

I buy it. Also, this, directed to their 7,776 MySpace “friends:”

Either most of our “friends” are fake or most of you are retarded, for better or worse we’re stuck with each other, let’s make the most of it and build a rainbow made out of all the ugly colors while french children run up and down the sandy beach cursing at god for making everything backwards.

After Dios Malos, an odd girl named Claire got up onstage and sang some very mediocre singer/songwriter type songs. I spaced out and said hi to some friends. The house videographer was absolutely in love with her for some reason, but I didn’t get it.

Then Zander Schloss of the Circle Jerks got up onstage, with some possibly homeless former or functioning junkie with a microphone that I almost mistook for Mark Lanegan. He’s probably someone I should have recognized, but here I am all Googled out from the heap of unheard-of local acts. I’ll let the fans sort it out in the comments section. Zander has gained a lot of weight, and appears to the untrained eye to be a blues legend from the swamp rather than the LA punk legend that he is. But their set was another one of the highlights- the singer’s voice matched Lanegan’s as much as his appearance- and they closed with a soulful cover of Josh Haden’s Spiritual.

After a short story by Ryan Ritchie, Nick Jago, formerly of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, took the stage with a backing band. BRMC is one of my absolute favorite bands of all time, but I swear to God, Nick Jago was one of the most annoying “artists” ever to take a stage in front of me. He was so in love with himself- yet he was so bad. Granted, it was his first solo show ever, but his singing voice is pathetic- I’ve seen high school bands with more compelling frontmen. Jago acted like he was Paul fucking McCartney up there- stopping mid-song to whine about people talking in the back, blaming the crowd for its lack of interest rather than his own horrible music- which he repeatedly fucked up, giving up entirely on one particular song a quarter-way through. He made some speech about the event being one with “integrity,” with “really great musicians,” and in the same breath explained that he only owned 30% of the royalties on the next song, after giving the rest to “someone who didn’t deserve it,” but it was “his way of saying thanks” blah blah blah fucking blah. Speaking of integrity, let me bitch about the shitty royalty rate I have on this song that I’ve never played before. I didn’t know how Jago had come to part ways with BRMC, but after last night, I was set on the theory that he was kicked out for being a douchebag. Evidently, I’m right. The band avoided using the word ‘fired,’ but the story involves a consistently drugged and/or drunken, grandstanding Jago, and the phrase “internal conflict.”

Thankfully, Alain Johannes of Eleven took the stage next, a man with real talent. He only played two songs, both of which were just him and a twelve string acoustic guitar, but they were impassioned, and helped to rejuvenate the evening.

After Alain was Jason Simon of Dead Meadow, accompanied by Marcus of Lower Heaven on an instrument I believe was a harmonium. Simon’s guitar work was really, really great. However, like many of the night’s performances, his vocals were weak, quiet, and lost in a mess of reverb. Overall, the set seemed to drone on past its welcome.

The other big highlight was to follow- Sweethead’s second performance ever, featuring Troy Van Leeuwen of Queens Of The Stone Age (formerly of A Perfect Circle), with the lovely Serrina Sims on vocals. At this point it was like 1 AM, and I don’t know how Serrina had survived the night in her fucking eight inch heels. Her voice- though under-amplified of course- was surprisingly soulful, and Troy’s guitar work was an interesting deviation away from the QOTSA stoner rock as well as APC’s dark alt-metal. We’ll be featuring them here on Antiquiet sometime soon.

The final act of the night was the worst thing I’ve suffered through since… well, Sid Brown’s set. You’d think Aaron North of The Icarus Line / Nine Inch Nails would be capable of bringing a house or two down, especially when helped by Tony Bevilacqua of Spinnerette. I don’t know if he was on fucking heroin or what, but his voice was… Not even a voice. It was a puny mumble, with absolutely no intonation, helped very little by droney guitars. The songs were supposedly covers, but I didn’t recognize them.

Buddyhead is some kind of big deal in some circles around here, and Aaron North is one of the two masterminds behind it- the other being photographer Travis Keller, who was named one of the most creative people in entertainment, by NME, and one of the “top 100 most powerful people in rock” by Kerrang. So I’m probably like, committing some sort of scene blasphemy here, talking shit. Overall, Buddyhead seems like a pretty sharp site… They’ve got Meathead writing for them, and he’s always funny. But last night came off like a vanity show- where most of the acts cared more about being onstage than the masses would care to hear them. Buddyhead seems to be known for not pulling punches, so I’m let down by the sore lack of discrimination.

But in the end, I suppose it wasn’t any better or worse than the usual family or office holiday gathering- a long, long, excruciating day (or night) with a bunch of people you try and pretend not to hate over the course of several hours that you will never, ever get back. Looking back after some time, you can kinda pick out the highlights and good parts and smile and feel all holiday spirit-y, but going through it, a gun to put in your mouth would be a welcome hors d’oeuvre.

Sadly, Twiggy Ramirez, Entrance, Dean Fertita, Xu Xu Fang, Alessandro Cortini, and Josh Homme all bailed.

For many more photos of all the Buddyhead acts, head over to Antiquiet’s Facebook page.