Kiev Goes 3-D with Menomena at Samueli Theater

What: Menomena w/ Kiev

Where: Segerstrom Center for the Arts, inside the Samueli Theater

When: 8pm, May 24, 2011

Tickets: $20 and $40

Purchase Site: http://scfta.org/home/Events/EventDetail.aspx?EventID=1213&NavID=355

A few days ago, I was able to congregate with the members of Kiev, including Robert Brinkerhoff (vocals, guitar), Brandon Corn (drums), Derek Poulsen (bass), Alex Wright (keys), and Andy Stavas (keys, saxophone), to discuss how much things have progressed since their last OC Weekly interview a few years ago. Not only did we converse about how the five members formed Kiev up to this point in time, but also their musical plans for the future, their take on the Orange County music community, and how the support of the OC Music Awards helped them connect with Menonmena for their upcoming show at the Segerstrom Center for the Arts, inside the Samueli Theater this May 24th. On top of that their performance will involve new technology that produces 3-D images projected on stage, set to synchronize perfectly with the layered tones of their music as they play!

So how did you end up together in this final formation of members?

Robert Brinkerhoff: We all met in stages, a staggered introduction. We only met through music. None of us were childhood friends who got picked on and started a hardcore punk band because of it—none of that awesome classic kind of stuff. Brandon moved down from Washington for a change of pace. We heard rumors of a fresh new kid on the streets who plays the skins. We met through mutual friends, and eventually he came down. We had already auditioned a bunch of drummers, but Brandon was really good, and he was pretty weird. The band was just a name previous to meeting Brandon. But I think upon meeting Brandon, that was the first seed, the first connection of the creation of what Kiev is now. So we kept him around.

I think we played around for about a year before we met Derek, and we met Derek through mutual friends as well. The first time I remember meeting him in the flesh, he was running sound at Cal State Fullerton. We knew of each other, and I remember hearing more rumors, like, ‘Hey, my friend is dating this dude, and he’s really good at music.’ That’s when we started to experience a metamorphosis. I think it was in year increments, maybe a little less.

And then Andy, the sax and keyboard guy, moved here. Through the guy we rent our warehouse from, we heard, ‘Hey, I know this kid that moved out here, and he plays for a Gospel church in South Central.’ We thought that was way cool, ‘cause we had coincidentally been talking about wanting someone to play keys, and hoping they would have other skills-- like being able to play a brass instrument. When we met him, he was just this goofy kid fresh out of North Carolina, even though he’s originally from Nebraska. He was the total opposite from what you would imagine. He’s this healthy, blonde-haired, Viking looking guy who I kind of imagined being like a Phish fan or something. Imagining someone who plays in a Compton Gospel church, I pictured someone that was kind of groovy and cool. And then he was just this excited cheesy guy that was like, ‘Hi! I’m Andy!’ But the first time we played with him, Andy immediately accentuated this other side of us that had always been there; which was this side that was a bit more experimental, and had roots in Jazz. I think the very first time we played, he had walked in, he’d used the restroom while we were playing, and he immediately ran out, picked up a sax, and started jamming with us. We played for like an hour without stopping, thinking, ‘Man, that’s just so awesome.’ And he stuck around too.

About a year later, we heard more rumors—this is all about rumors— we heard rumors about this child prodigy pianist moving out. That’s what they said, that’s exactly what Andy said. Alex actually came here to the studio one time before he moved out, and he walked in and said, ‘This place is awesome.’ He laughs about the rumors, but he plays this song he wrote about his soccer team when he was nine years old, it sounds like Franz Liszt or something (laughs). At that point, our friend Grace who played keys decided she wanted to move to Oregon and study holistic medicine. She was a huge part of the band, but coincidentally, Alex was there, moving to California, telling us he was kind of good at piano. So we started playing with him, and he then accentuated this other side out of the band, which was this meticulous side, with attention to detail—he was a very disciplined dude. We rocked the boat on one hand with wacky Andy getting into jazz and free-jam, and then Alex came and re-centered the band with what he could bring to the table. It was actually really cool because I think for the first time, we felt like everything kind of fell into place. That wasn’t even that long ago, maybe over a year and a half ago. So it took a year for each band member to be found, and during all those years, we were pretty much only rehearsing. Incubating, for lack of a better word, in the warehouse. By the time Alex joined, we had a bunch of songs, but we’re still learning a lot about ourselves. We kind of figured out was what our strengths and ambitions were when he came. So we’ve continue chasing after that.

Now that you guys have your collection of songs, what have you been incubating to release next?

Brinkeroff: I think the most pertinent thing is the show at Samueli. It’s a pretty huge step for us. We’re going to be playing some brand new songs that we haven’t played, so that’s where our heads are at, because we still realize we are writing an album. But more immediately, we’re going to be sharing new music, and for the first time with visuals. As crazy as it is, we’re doing it in 3-D, mainly because people in my family, some filmmakers, and some animators we’re working with from our circle of friends have been playing around with 3-D stuff in their own work. They’re like, ‘Well, we have this gear, and I know you guys want to do projections. Why don’t we just take it a step further, get ridiculous with it, and make a 3-D show.’ As funny as that sounds, it’s actually something that’s been on our minds—not necessarily 3-D, but adding that next step with visuals. We actually had a personal goal, by this late Spring, we wanted to do a show in a warehouse, with visuals, and invite people into our workspace. We didn’t really think there was a venue that could we do it at. We can’t set up at Detroit Bar, can’t just book a show at House of Blues and have the control to oversee that and have a proper sound-check.

How did you get connected with Menomena, and the people at Samueli Theater for this event?

Brinkerhoff: It was actually Ashley from the Orange County Music Awards, and the ACE Agency Group. They hit us up to open the show for Menomena. They’ll be doing a series of shows. I’ve never seen the theater, but Derek, Brandon, and I, coincidentally, have done some music work in collaboration with visuals for the Segerstrom Center for the Arts. We were lucky to be able to work on an event in the past there. We were part of a group of musicians who supplied music to this experimental alias torque dance thing. So we had a relationship with the theater, and then we were coincidentally asked to open the show. They offered a sound-check, and we were panting like dogs, ‘cause we never get sound-checks, and sound is so important to us. And then they were like, ‘Yeah, and it’s at Segerstrom Center, in the Samueli Theater.’ So instead of doing visuals in our warehouse, we decided, let’s see if the theater would be cool with it, since they already know who we are. We asked them, and they thought it would be really cool.

How do you feel about a bigger show like this coming into our realm, and in an art theater, rather than a venue?

Brandon Corn: It’s a nicer place to experience music, as opposed to just seeing it in the same hole that we’re all used to. We all know how it sounds, we all know it’s going to be predictable.

Brinkerhoff: Not only will the theater sound nicer, but it will be a cooler environment. They are catering to another level of engagement. It’s nice being able to do something different than we’re used to. We’ve played in Orange County kind of recently at House of Blues, and before that, at the Orange County Music Awards series, but we really haven’t been playing around here that much. It’s just really refreshing thinking about, at least for us anyway, treating it with the high standard we’d like to hold ourselves to. Yeah, it’s a $20 show, but we’re putting in the effort to do something really special. Not just to make up for the dollar that comes out of the fan’s pockets, but just to incite the idea that, if you want to bring better and cooler shows to Orange County, then I think local bands, at least some of us, would love to step up and contribute back to that—so it’s not just us doing the same thing, playing the same bars. I think a lot of bands, including ours, have bigger aspirations. Might as well start doing stuff at home first.

The opportunity is there when Ashley Eckenweiler and Luke Allen provide new chances for local musicians to succeed, with things like the OC Music Awards.

Brinkerhoff: When I was just starting out, I was Luke’s first tenant in his studio rental space, Gemini Studios. He’s awesome, because he’s always been supporting it one way or another. And now it has been much more hands on with him and Ashley. It’s a way larger scale. Going to the Awards, as you’re taking it in, you realize, there’s no real reason for them to do this, other than that they’re supporting it, and they actually believe in the value of music and a music community. I guess we were all hoping that all the bands felt that way, ‘cause you can get really cheeky with it. I think of it as exposure, the chance to put everyone in the same room and introduce people to other people, as well as giving recognition to people that try really hard.

Corn: I think that’s the end goal behind it, is to honor specific people, but give exposure to everyone that participates. That sense of community is the most important thing that they have brought to the table.

Brinkerhoff: You make those connections with people you’ve been living next to the whole time. The music community hasn’t always been as vibrant and receptive to being more of a communal thing until lately.

Corn: It’s nice to know who your peers are. And also it will inspire friendly…I don’t want to say the word…competition, but in a positive way. Not head-to-head, but more of an inspiration. Another example for us is Railroad to Alaska. We had met them through that, playing the Best Live Band show.

Brinkerhoff: That show is designed, in a nice way, to be a competition. It was an introduction to a band that’s doing something totally different than us, but seems to be really like-minded in their integrity. It makes you feel better. There are not too many things to be comforted by when you’re a musician these days, so when you meet other people that are driven by the same things, and are as genuine and passionate about music, it makes you feel like, ‘Oh wait, maybe Orange County is not such a bad spot.’ There’s definitely a stigma with this area, about it having cliques, and being a little bit more competitive. When you actually get to meet, you realize that a lot of the people that we connect with are kind of longing for the same thing. They would rather have a community and support system. We have so much music here that we can actually have an awards show, so that says something.

That stigma is definitely around, and people have that frustration with Orange County, but Costa Mesa has a scene, Orange has a scene, Santa Ana has a scene. With that being said, why did you choose your home base to be in the City of Orange?

Brinkerhoff: You’re sitting inside of it right now. Wherever this building goes, we’ll go. If this thing picks up and lands in Albequerque, we’d be there. It was funny, I actually came here to go to film school at Chapman, and became really involved with the music, and that’s why I started living here. A while back our current manager was managing other bands, and renting out this rehearsal space. One of his bands he severed ties with, they moved out, and we were looking for a place to practice. Then we came here (to the studio), and thought it was pretty magical. The longer we’ve been here, the more that we’ve carved it out as our own home.

Corn: When it started, it was just us in that corner over there…

Brinkerhoff: …with a couple amps smashed in the corner. Then slowly, over the course of the years, we made it our home.

Corn: It’s a reflection of our growth too.

Brinkerhoff: I know I was raised here in Orange County, but I feel that we’re all a little nomadic in nature-- which is super ironic since we’ve never moved. I know we all have the urge to want to feel free and move around, but as long as this warehouse is here, I have a feeling we will be here. Hopefully we’ll feed our nomadic tendencies by touring elsewhere.

After playing a large show with Avi Buffalo at the Art Theatre of Long Beach, and with this upcoming collaboration with Menomena, do you feel the need to continue the trend with a tour, or will you choose to wait?

Corn: It’s hard, because you can book a tour on your own, but you’re almost guaranteed to lose money on the first couple dates. I think touring is definitely on the horizon, that’s for sure. But I think it’s also important to make sure that it’s done well and done right. When we were kids and we were going out and touring, to me it felt like a totally different thing because gas was so cheap…

Brinkerhoff: …and no Myspace, Facebook, Souncloud, or Bandcamp.

Corn: And we still had the huge map and the book of CD’s in the car. It costs a lot more nowadays to fill up the tank and things like that. So logistically, it’s more difficult to tour these days I think. With that being said, we want to, very much so.

How do you get connected with record companies when they seem to be in as much trouble as everyone else?

Brinkerhoff: You gotta get connected with the bands, and that’s why we’re grateful to get some of these bigger shows. Just to be able to brush shoulders with some bands that are touring acts. We spend a lot of time with Orange County and Los Angeles bands, but not really bands from out of town. We seem to be a little less focused on touring with what we have right now. Like all bands, we are going to be continuously developing the music. I think we’re really eager because we do have a new batch of songs, and we want to round out that batch and make it a true album. I’m not saying that we won’t tour. We’ll take any opportunity to travel if we can play for people, even if it’s just a few. But I think the priority would be to complete an album. It’s been lucky that we developed a relationship with an engineer that we really respect, and he works on all these records, some of them being some of my favorite from over the last 20 years. We just recorded with him last week, just to see what it was like. It seemed like a really cool fit, and there is a lot of potential there. It feels like the natural progression for us, since the band’s progression is a little bit ahead of the available recorded music. For us to put our newest stuff out as quickly as we can, intelligently, and as cool as we can onto some recorded medium so it matches what the band is doing will be best. I think at that point, that’s when you feel most ready to take a risk on a tour. It’s like, ‘Here, we’re most proud of this music,’ and it’s the music people haven’t heard yet. I know that’s always the case with bands, but I think it’s particularly true with us right now.

When did you record last, before this most recent session?

Brinkerhoff: Two years ago, almost. I think that it was such a gigantic task for us to graduate from where we were previous to those recordings. We grew to the point of where, we recorded those songs, and even more, we figured out how to play the music live. We try to incorporate a lot of technology. Apart from the technology, just the idea of playing such multi-layered music, and building it from nothing--in the hands of five people--has taken us a really long time. And we continue to learn a lot about what it is we like and what we don’t like about what we’ve already made. Two years sounds like an incredibly long time to have a gap, but people come up to us and ask how we make such layered music. It feels overwhelming when we make it, like, what did we get into? We had four days in the studio last week to record two songs. Most bands would be like, ‘Oh, we can record two songs in a half a day.’ Even the producer and engineer thought it would be fine. But as soon as we got going, he heard us play it live, and he was ready to jump on it. As soon as we started breaking down all the layers and told him what we wanted to do, he was like, ‘Shit, there’s so much to do.’ Fortunately he remained positive. A lot of people don’t realize that it’s really dense music, we really care about it, and we’ve spent a lot of time with it. Writing a six-minute song, for us, can sometimes feel like you’ve written a miniature symphony. You feel like a stressed out composer, thinking of all the different parts and counterparts and layers.

Being that you guys are so calculated in your composing, how does that tie in with the philosophy of your music?

Derek Poulsen: I think Brandon’s nature of knowing rhythms inside and out, and being able to break down rhythms to certain durations and subdivisions is pretty much the foundation of a tune. His abilities with drums and percussions are always a good place for starting.

Corn: That’s what gets us all moving too, the rhythm of it. It doesn’t necessarily start with me, but it definitely starts with a beat. Out of the batch of tunes that we’ve made, there were only a few that didn’t start with some sort of rhythm. For us, the placement of the rhythm, and the repetition of it in the writing process is part of it as well.

Brinkerhoff: I think we are very meticulous and disciplined people, but on the opposite side of the spectrum, we spend a lot of time as individuals and as a group, trying to be as meticulous, disciplined, and trained. We practice almost in preparation for these really organic moments when divine intervention comes through, so that we know how to interpret it quickly as it happens.

So you cover all the little details, practice all the rudiments, you know your scales and such, so that when the eventual moment of musical creation occurs, you’re all on the same page and ready?

Brinkerhoff: It’s just when the breeze comes through town. The thing I’m most grateful for about playing with these guys--‘cause currently I’m the only one who is not a trained musician-- is that when you have inspiration striking you, you have this tiny little pinhole to try and force out gallons of energy. You explode, and that’s when you turn into a prematurely grey, freaked out, shaky person. When the discipline is there more, the moment is able to be translated quickly. So when we have improv jams, it actually isn’t just us throwing paint at the walls for an abstract feel. It actually comes from an earned, educated place. It doesn’t make it any less improvised or genuine, it just that you learn you can speak without words. ‘Cause that’s exactly what music is, is a translation of all these thoughts, emotions, and feelings that don’t necessarily translate into words.

Explain a little more about what you have in mind for the 3-D visuals for the concert at Samueli Theater, and will the audience need 3-D glasses?

Brinkerhoff: Yeah they will need to wear the glasses, and the band will bring them. We have 400 pairs. We are going to bring in a huge screen, and it takes two projectors to do the kind of 3-D we’re planning. It’s not like we made a 3-D film and the music is a score to it. It’s basically visualized music, that is custom created media arranged in 3-D space to each one of our songs. Since we have computers incorporated into the band, we’re actually able to drive the projectors, keeping it in line with what images we want at certain points of the song. There’s been confusion about the idea like, ‘Oh you made a 3-D film,’ but we didn’t take 3-D camera, which consists of two lenses, and go film things. Instead, we have software and hardware connected to our musical software, that can remember and place 2-D images, or any sort of animation, in a 3-D space. So it’s multiple layers of things that can move and react to our music. We’re a little bummed on it though, ‘cause our backs are going to be to it during the show, and we won’t get to see it. We won’t be projecting it on ourselves, but we went through a bunch of different concepts before settling on anything. Secretly I fantasize about doing it at the Yost Theater, ‘cause I think there will be people who don’t know Menomena, or can’t afford a ticket, and I’d love for them to see it too. But it does take about 10 people to run the show, so we can’t really speak for the other five people that have to work on it. But they’re really excited about it too. We flirted with the idea of 3-D because of all the multi-layers in our music —that was the greatest way to actually visualize multiple layers of images as they react to the many layers of the music.

And ultimately, the whole point is to get lost in the music?

Brinkerhoff: Right. And some people are more visual than others. A lot of people talk about things they kind of feel like they ‘see’ or imagine when they listen to, not only our music, but other forms of music as well. Hopefully we’re able to help those who can’t see it as clear—cinestesia I believe it’s called—that’s when you see the color of music.

Railroad to Alaska releases "Salvation" EP: A Review

Something about certain chord progressions, guitar riffs, and drum fills, whatever their variation may be, makes the blood boil with adrenaline. Combine that with well-executed, theatrical metal vocals, and the listener is transformed into a human bullet, aimed for destruction. When listening to the new EP, titled “Salvation,” from Costa Mesa locals, Railroad to Alaska, I can’t help but feel the need to put on my mean face and scream at the top of my lungs, “Take time to open your eyes, you know you signed on the line!!!” Lyrics written by front-man, Justin Suitor and band artist, Ryan Williams, are filled with insightful satire towards cultural phenomena like the Jonestown Massacre and the modern principles spawned by Capitalism in America. Combine that with Suitor’s vocal fervor and precision on lead guitar, bass and booming backup vocals by Justin Morales, perfectly-placed rhythm guitar by Jeff Lyman, and intricate drums from Derek Eglit, and you have a group of what may be the best emerging technical musicians in Orange County.

Returning to Mike Troolines at Sound Asylum in Santa Ana after releasing their first EP LuckyBearClawDoom in February of 2010, Railroad releases their second, containing four new tracks that are more metal than any orchestration they have released thus far. First is “Handsome,” the gritty tune that makes playing in 5/4 seem effortless, and tells the tale of the manipulative Salesman conning the masses. Continuing on, you’ll discover the heavy-hitting beats and jagged guitar riffs of, “The Real Thing.” Third is, “Mum,” that showcases a frightening power that emanates from each member until the very last second. Last, is the album-title track, “Salvation,” the only composition that mellows out, hypnotizing the listener for a moment with melodic chants, then building up to an eerie crescendo that sends shudders down the spinal cord.

Railroad to Alaska has recently showcased these new editions throughout Orange County and Los Angeles venues. On top of that, Volcom Entertainment has recently grabbed them for local events like the annual Dam-Am Skate Competition, and industry nights at local spots all over Costa Mesa. Check out “Salvation” at the upcoming Best Live Band Showcase on February 1, hosted by OC Music Awards at the Tiki Bar in Costa Mesa. Stop by and grab a copy of your own before the ensemble progresses their way out of Orange County, and into the public spotlight for good.

“Salvation” Track List:

1) Handsome (3:45)

2) The Real Thing (3:41)

3) Mum (4:12)

4) Salvation (6:46)

Long Live Vinyl

In an age of technology, evolution is expected in all aspects of life, including the music industry. All around the world, intellects strive to design the new, the more compact, the faster, the cleaner, the cheaper. Day to day, the public throws away the old and swipes those credit cards for the cutting-edge. Years of this type of public spending have affected the way an individual listens and collects music. Ultimately, the form of media each person chooses is based upon their life-style. For fast-paced living that includes constant travel, digital media is the most favorable. But for avid vinyl patrons, a little extra effort and a little more relaxation is appreciated. Listening to wax is a means of musical meditation in which the mood is of the utmost importance. There are specific times that are best to drop that needle. At home. With a joint. With some wine. With some whiskey. With someone you love. With close friends. With the door closed. With the windows open. With a candle. With the lights turned low. Each individual has their own way of listening. And for the community of record collectors that love this way of living, vinyl will always survive.

Despite the digital craze, shops like Burger Records in Fullerton, Factory Records in Costa Mesa, Vinyl Solution in Huntington Beach, and Origami in Silverlake still litter the Orange County and surrounding, offering a full selection of new, used and reprinted record albums of all genres. In Costa Mesa, right next to Little Knight, is the newly reclaimed Factory Records, known by most as Sound Trolley before Dave of Noise Noise Noise took over a few months ago. Peek through the old white wooden door windows, and notice a rack filled with free magazines, show fliers, CD demos, and art hiding in a nook on the left. Despite the close quarters, Factory makes use of every corner, only adding the best vinyl to the already exquisite collection. Each album features a white written tag stuck onto the protective plastic cover. On these stickers are in-depth, and usually hilariously sarcastic, scribbles of explanation about the history, significance, and condition of that specific record. All around, back-stock peaks out from the inside of wooden crates that litter the lower portion of the racks and unused areas of the shop. There are a few 8-tracks, cassettes and CD’s, but this room at Factory will be forever dominated by vinyl.

In this age, thousands of songs can be stored and downloaded through iTunes, CD Baby, and the quick and convenient bit-torrent sites. Going digital has also allowed the masses to make their own musical concoctions in living rooms, garages, and local lockouts for a reasonable price. From the studio, local bands then cut and mix their product with user-friendly music editing software like Garage Band and Sound Studio. But while the trend seems to be all about electronics, most musicians are still unable to give up and throw away their beloved vinyl collection boasting Bowie, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Iggy, and Sabbath. Recently, this fairly expensive manner of music production has outlasted decades of change, and has continued to survive in the hands of an artistic community that values the sound produced when the needle gently drags over the creases of revolving pressed vinyl. Not only are these individuals collecting the music of the forefathers of modern rock, punk, and hip-hop for the next generations, but they now are reverting back to releasing vinyl themselves. Musicians like Local Natives, The Growlers, and Gestapo Khazi are making their own place in vinyl history by releasing wax of their own, developed from digital tracks.

For the men in charge of Burger Records in Fullerton, a heightened vinyl obsession has inspired them to create an authentic record store and publishing label in Orange County. With a few local bands under their belt, Burger has succeeding in pressing vinyl and making cassette tapes on their label that’s also named Burger Records. To get to the shop, just cruise past the industrial buildings that line State College Blvd., past the remains of an old orange grove, and on the left is Burger. Inside the glow of neon green walls, they offer recovered originals, underground current releases, and a few reprints. The interior design is retro, with a collection of music oddities of strange origins littered everywhere. To give back to their customers, Burger constantly hosts movie and live music nights, motivating the locals to come kick back with fellow music lovers.

With the success of CDs in the early ‘90s, record players hit a major lull in production. From there came the decision among record-holders; hold onto the vast collection, let it fade away, or sell it off to shops for dimes. CD’s took over, with digital soon following, and each new format operated on more efficient equipment, causing record players to fade away. As CD’s and iPods filled the shelves, vinyl finally took a backseat to the cleaner and more convenient digital technology.

In a modest strip mall off of Beach Blvd hides the record store gem, Vinyl Solution. Step through the door and find yourself stuck in a world of punk and rock memorabilia that covers every inch of the establishment, including the ceiling. The expensive stuff rests on wall racks to the left, protected by a glass case that serves as a barricade and location to place the selection of alphabetized 45’s. Buttons, shirts, and posters of bands like The Misfits, The Cramps, and Ramones fill the little bit of space that the records don’t reach. Upon entering, prepare for some shop-talk about the intricate levels of record history, involving such precise knowledge as release dates, specific concert data, and album artwork. Not only is it easy acquire a favorite Beatles album there, but you’ll learn a little about it before you leave.

Record stores are the backbone of the music industry, and the key to its success. When major corporate retail locations like Best Buy now offer vinyl, all boasting shiny gold 180 gram vinyl stickers on shrink-wrapped plastic, it is apparent that the music industry has taken a wrong turn. Without the vinyl junkie who strives to perfect the oral history of music, peddle albums to music appreciators, and promote local and popular music everywhere, record companies and musicians will ultimately fail. Bands must now rely on selling merchandise first-hand in order to make the smallest of profits, but most fans are unable to go to purchase that merch because that band cannot afford to tour through town. On top of that, concert tickets that used to be sold at record retail locations are now claimed by Ticketmaster and LiveNation, which monopolized the market on online ticket sales.

Head to Silverlake, past the lake in Echo Park, and up to Sunset. On the left, tucked near the venue The Echo, is Origami Vinyl. Simple, chic wooden bins extend, implanted on each side of one long corridor, hiding walls that shine with a grey winter glow. All the way in the back, a classic metal spiral staircase winds up to an empty loft area for bands to play in-store performances. Each month a new collection by a local artist is placed on the walls above the record racks. Despite the detached music scene in Orange County, this portion of Los Angeles has figured out a way to create a local neighborhood of artists, musicians, and venues. Origami sits right in the middle of it all. That makes it easy for the shop to connect with local venues like Spaceland, for which they promote and sell concert tickets. Musicians and a handful of record companies are also local, allowing Origami to work directly with artists to purchase wholesale vinyl, instead of corporate distribution companies. The middle-man is then cut out, leaving most of the profit to the artists.

Sometimes an enigma, despite the odds, secures its spot in history. In a world of digital, vinyl seems to survive even with the battle between tape, CDs, and digital audio files. Perhaps it is because some of the most passionate artists and music appreciators live in the world of vinyl. The true collectors that are scattered throughout record stores across the nation will always be obsessed with enjoying the music they surround themselves with. Each band, song, album, and artist will stay with that collector forever, even if their vinyl collection doesn’t. For them, music is tied to personal memories; moments made in the past in which one specific song is the catalyst for reminiscence. A type of spirituality is engrained in the rich sound waves of vintage vinyl. And as it still carries merit in this modern time despite the desire for digital, performers of the future will no doubt continue to pay tribute to vinyl by pressing their own LP’s to live on forever as a collector’s items.

A Week at Detroit

Every night there is something to do at Detroit Bar, the music venue hiding in the corner of the Vista Center located in Eastside Costa Mesa. Drive on 19th street past Placentia Ave., past the old eVocal, past Avalon, turn left at the brightly lit marquee, and in towards the corner of the parking lot. There, you will find one of the most vital contributing venues in the underground Orange County music and art scene.

Throughout the venue, the reoccurring theme is an aged, yet chic style of Mod. Knitted pieces of tangerine-colored pillow art litter the walls of the dance floor, bar area, and pool hall; buffering the music that spews from speakers. Every piece of interior has rounded corners, whether it is the stools, tables, or booths. The establishment is split into three tiers; the first being the open concert hall, the second the bar, booths, and DJ arena, and the last being the pool room that possesses a digital jukebox, a classic joystick Pacman arcade game, and more lounge seating.

For nine years, the stage has featured thousands of bands; some good, some great, and some to forget. But each performance always shines in it’s own distinct way. From a wooden beam above and away from the stage hangs the modest light system and fog machine. To the right and left, suspended with a tilt towards the audience, are two substantial house speakers. Monitors litter the extension of the platform that was built into the existing frame of the stage just a few weeks ago, providing a little extra space for the performers. Surrounding the musicians are three walls of orange-painted concrete hidden behind a perimeter of deep red curtains. In the back, centered in the drapery, is an oversized smooth metal replica of the Detroit Bar logo, always beaming in the glow of shifting red, blue, green, and yellow beams of stage light. For those who see the merit in discovering new and upcoming musical acts to add to their life playlist, it is the perfect place to reside every night of the week.

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Today the week starts with Resident Live Music Monday, and for the first evening of the Billy Kernkamp Mysteresidency, the sounds of The Relative Strangers are booming out of the doorway of Detroit. “The feeear of taking you for graaanted, the feeear of letting yooou go,” has wandered into my head a lot over the last month. This Thursday will be their first appearance at the House of Blues in Anaheim.

Pleasant surprise is the second mystery band, Wake Up Lucid, hailing from Los Angeles. This three-piece played a healthy set of psychedelic Southern rock to impress the crowd. Tonight, the three-band-lineup is letting each group take advantage of extended time on stage. Wake Up Lucid took advantage, showing a great extension of their musical range, including an impressive drum solo transitioned seamlessly into an intense song finale. Definitely downloading their new EP as soon as possible.

Gossip of the night is all about unveiling the Ruffian music blogger, whether or not he was there, and who it may be. It is still unclear if they are male or female, one person or many, and what crowd they seem to run with. But the consensus seems to be that, whoever it may be, he or she is probably not much of a musician.

Billy Kernkamp, accompanied by Justin Deckert, Brendan Murphy, Teddy Duran, Justin Morales, minus organist Dallas Kruse, takes center-stage. In the spotlight after a few weeks of hiding out, Kernkamp graces his many fans, singing their favorite songs with deep passion and romantic fervor. A month-long residency is good practice for the group, as they will be entering the Red Bull recording studio in a few weeks to claim their OC Music Awards prize. Nearby, Trisha Smith and Ryan Radcliff of Honeypie enjoy the music. They will be playing next Thursday at Detroit with Melanoid, Preacher’s Sons, and May McDonough.

At the end of the night, it is necessary to swoop out undetected, otherwise goodbyes would last on through the night. Always a good time seeing friends at Billy’s shows. Looking forward to the rest of July Mysteresidency.

For local artists, the Monday night residency spot is coveted, and reserved for the most legit Orange County musicians. Over the last year, bands like The New Limb, Railroad to Alaska, and Blok have chosen their favorite openers to join them in filling up the Detroit dance floor for four weeks in row. Not only is this Residency one of the best ways for a band to gain exposure, but it is also a challenge that truly shows a group’s stature and following in the Orange County music scene.

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Started off this Tuesday night Everyday Noise event by walking into Detroit to the words, “People get goofy to this song.” The Tail, a group of four, sounded reminiscent of a modern-day Beach Boys or Dr. Dog, but with more quirky and intellectual lyrics.

Near the DJ booth, Everyday Noise founder, Ash Eliot, works away on her laptop, while her partner, Albert Ching, runs to and from the stage area to observe the show. This duo is running the Local Indie Night every first Tuesday of every month at Detroit.

Next up is another four-piece hailing as the California Condors. Each member, with their own personal microphone, stood up to sing his own song, with only a few truly being memorable for the night. This is an Indie band with excellent musicians and democratic songwriting style.

A faux-redheaded female takes the stage with her psychedelic rock band. Spirit Vine had made the rounds through Los Angeles and now enters Orange County, with the possibility of a memorable show tonight. With red lights turned low, a few riffs from the lead guitarist, and the occasional harmonies hit just right, Spiritvine was unforgettable.

Peyote Players closed out the night as the population dwindled to the final few. This funky, hip-hop, soul, psychedelic rock trio, featuring lead bass, is the most entertaining of the evening; enough to earn fog and a technical light show from the house. A mellow evening at Detroit with a full range of Indie bands.

While the local musicians usually host Tuesday evenings, the final one of the month is reserved for Dubtroit, a night filled with the heavy basslines of dubstep music. The crowd has been anticipating this Tuesday all month, checking in with friends days in advance to make sure they are attending. Every time Dubtroit rolls around, the bouncer knows it is time to prepare for that long line that always builds in front of his station. One by one, he checks ID’s, always attempting to tame the orgasmic electricity shifting though the crowd, and the smell of hydroponics in the air on the patio.

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Dolphin City is glowing in raw projector light, laced with flecks of digital color. Dressed in all white, perfectly puzzled together on stage like opaque tetris blocks. The stellar musical experimentations radiate over the snug audience that consumes the concrete dance floor. And the standard is set high for the musical acts of the night.

For The New Limb, tonight is the ultimate homecoming after a two-week tour up the veins of the West Coast. A new maturity, wisdom, and confidence pulses in musical succession from the five members. Time apart results in a sense of nostalgia, and a new excitement for the group that I’ve seen so many times now. Welcome home.

Young the Giant, previously known as The Jakes, sets up and briefly checks their levels. “It’s time to start a fight,” flows from the romantic vocals of the lead. These young men, previously known as The Jakes, exemplify the Indie scene perfectly in Orange County, with charismatic tunes bouncing throughout the establishment. The promoters have changed up the schedule for the month of August, with Young the Giant taking a slot as Resident band. Any other Wednesday night would consist of a DJ set, and completely different kind of crowd than musical hipsters. Go through the door of Detroit on hump day, and be greeted by a dance floor that hosts twirling bits of colored lights moving to the beat of the pop, ‘80s, house, and techno beats that inspire the crowd to drink, pick up on each other, and dance all night long. Refreshing to have a Costa Mesa venue with bands on a Wednesday for a change.

When Detroit was first introduced to the public after purchasing the punk venue, Club Mesa, in 2001, the entry line on a Wednesday evening shoot down the sidewalk, stretching past the neighboring businesses, all the way to the parking lot entrance near Alejandro’s Mexican food. Although the initial charm has worn off a bit, Detroit still boasts lines like this for Tuesday night Dubtroit, and national headliners like Cold War Kids, Crystal Castles, and Autolux.

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Thursday night; semi-official start to the weekend. That means there is probably a cover, with a touring band or special-event taking place. On this specific evening, it is Chainsaw’s Birthday Massacre featuring Railroad to Alaska, The Vespertines, Strange Birds, and Names In Vain.

Names In Vain are setting up, lights turned low and a thin starting crowd. Railroad members are split between the front door patio and the concert hall. Members of Strange Birds line the bar, with an occasional glance at one of the three televisions that float in orange encasings over the back bar. Each screen usually displays cult classics, eclectic music videos, or an occasional sports game. As the night wears on, The Vespertines enter the scene, with local musicians, scenesters, and surfers following. And the smoking patio fills.

By the end of the evening, the crowd is stretched full with booze, and an itching desire to get rowdy. Perhaps it was the booming voice of Vespertine’s lead female vocalist, crying low tones of Change, with a solid band of brothers behind her, matching her intensity in great harmony. Perhaps it was a particular crowd of fans, including birthday girl, Vanessa Barnes, that shot the rest of the audience up with adrenaline with their violent dancing, pushing, and rhythmic screaming.

As the people begin to exit the venue, friends and acquaintances continue to linger out front. But a few super drunk buddies, led by the-most-plastered-king-of-the-night, begins looking for some trouble. A fight quickly flames and fizzles, but a row of Detroit regulars, Railroad guys, and bouncers now line the patio, guarding the entrance to the establishment, making sure there’s no more trouble for the night.

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On Friday evening, everything changes. The crowd, the music, the mentality. A full set of DJ’s take over the venue, transforming it into a club with men and women on the prowl. Pay five bucks at the door, and enter into a world of lights, lazers, and the sound of MSTRKRFT, Justice, and Daft Punk remixes. Club attire is more prolific tonight, with the men in button-ups, and the female’s skirts being tighter and shorter than any other night of the week. All three tiers of Detroit are bustling with young adults looking to throw a few drinks back and officially welcome the weekend.

Around the establishment, a cocktail waitress dressed in a black ruffled skirt and tank hustles from room to room, checking constantly for drink orders. At the bar, tequila shots are being shared. On the dancefloor, club-goers assimilate in drunken dance movements, while local photographers shoot from all angles, bending the perspective and light in every which way. Friday’s are reserved for the crowd that wants to absorb entertainment and alcohol from all sides.

However, any weekend the schedule may change, depending if a band like The Growlers, the GZA, Matt Costa, or Valient Thorr is coming through town. But no matter the night, Detroit supplies a hub for local music, socializing, and an escape from the work-week.

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It’s Saturday and the crowd consistently wanders in for the Echo Echo CD Release (with vinyl!). Tonight, the group shares their new album,Fall Like You're Flying. Through the main entrance, and towards the merch booth to find sprigs of delicate faux cherry blossom branches twinkling, each laced with tiny bulbs of light inside rice paper flowers. A few line the stage, with the rest set around the brown suitcase at the table. Inside the gaping mouth of the case, copies of the album are joined by digital download cards.

National act, Film School, under code name Fission, takes stage at 9:15pm sharp, making it an early start to the night for the venue. It has been two years since the foursome have played on stage together, and the Detroit stage is the first of many on their Fall tour schedule. The electro-indie band, with wedding rings and a hint of maturity on their faces, run their set and check the response of the crowd every song or two. Nervous to reply, the crowd keeps a distance, but continues listening closely.

To follow is Semi Sweet, a local bitch pop group, boasting the ratio of three females on vocals, keys, and drums, to the two men playing bass and guitar. A crowd gathers to the breathy croons of the lead vocalist; a seductive female with Fender in hand, sharing dramatic lyrics with the band’s followers. A fan posted up front grabs a prop bubble machine that had been implanted at the foot of the stage. He points and shoots, scattering a rain of gleaming orbs amidst the melodies of songs titled “Sleazy” and “Sugar Free.”

Third for the night is The Relative Strangers. As they play, more people wander into the establishment, proving the band is the perfect buffer for the headliner of the night. The two pairs of actual relatives finish up, allowing plenty of time for Echo Echo to share a full set of their new record before last call. As the band begins, a darker and more emotionally rattling mood begins to linger in the air. The four members, comprised of music locals, Steve Carson, Jameson, Darren Carr, and Bruce Yoken, escape to a place of broken romances. Carson, with his sorrowful voice resonating strong, leads the group in an epic set that extends into the wee hours of the morning.

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Last chance to enjoy the weekend, and this specific Sunday, the crowd stumbles through the door, drunk from the events of Labor Day, ready for some top-notch karaoke. First stop: the bar. Second stop: the Book. Within the plastic covers of the karaoke binders is a thick selection of the classics, the current, and everything else in between. On stage, Lester Trombone, the host of the affair, is dressed in black and red pin-stripe pants, slicked back hair, and one of his t-shirts that simply states, “Organic Robot,” “Love Songs for Everyone,” or “ I Like Stuff.” He hunches over his karaoke stand, tucked away in the corner, his table littered with white strips of music selections. Scrolling through thousands of songs in his database, Lester hollers song titles from the likes of Danzig, Nirvana, Fiona Apple, and Weezer.

A swarming crowd ripe with booze serenades loudly along with a hip young man basking in the fog and lights of the red-carpeted stage. Tonight, owning the platform for a few minutes is difficult, with a growing crowd steadily throwing their favorite tunes towards the host. In the back corner of the dance floor, the sound technician adjusts vocal levels and lights, with fog and green beams of lazer reserved for only the finest acts of the evening. With a tempo change in lights and a puff of swirling smoke, this young man has achieved his acceptance from the establishment, and the crowd roars on.

Tomorrow each individual may regret the song selection they made, the amount of alcohol they consumed, or the decision to hit on that plastered guy or girl at the bar. But no matter what experiences were had, karaoke is the best way to close out the week at Detroit.

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