OK, maybe the title of this post is a little misleading. Sue me.

1.    Hall & Oates at the Hollywood Bowl last weekend was even more amazing than expected. At 60, Daryl Hall has got it going on more than most singers a third his age. And the hair! It’s easily the best in the biz. The almighty Spinners opened the show, so I’ve been spending lots of quality time with their incredible catalog via the Rhino box set “The Chrome Collection.” Awesome. So much amazing music in one night. I petition that H&O toss L.A. another date before the end of the year. More, please! And this time, they’d better play “Kiss on My List” and/or “Did it in a Minute.” I’m just saying! I’ll make a sign and everything.

2.    We already talked about the Underworld show the following night. Totally underwhelming is more like it. Color me disappointed.

3.    Only a few short years ago, September 11 was a somber, grey day dedicated to remembering the tragedies of that fateful day in 2001. This year, 9/11 has officially become something of a musical holiday, with all sorts of huge releases hitting the racks, from the Kanye West/50 Cent showdown (Team Kanye, baby!) to the latest from Hot Hot Heat, The Go! Team, Animal Collective and countless more to a slew of concerts around town. WTF? I made a stop at Cinespace to see L.A. faves Hot Hot Heat celebrate their latest, “Happiness Ltd.” with an appropriately sweaty performance for fans that bought the record that day. It was a lot of fun, but how can you not have a good time hanging out with my friends Graham and Rachel?

4.    That same evening I cruised up Sunset post-HHH to catch local glam-rockers A.i. commemorate the release of their latest CD, “Sex & Robots,” at the Roxy. That’s drummer Zach Young laying down the beat in the above picture. While I got there late and missed hostess Joanna Angel (raise your hand if you know who she is. Wow, that’s a lot of hands!), but I did catch the techno-fied trio tear through new tunes like my personal favorite, “Maria on the Moon,” which reminds me of legendary L.A. new wave act Missing Persons. The band is taking their show on the road with an east coast tour next month, and we wish them all the best.

5.    Forgive, but never forget. It keeps you from being bitter, but reminds you to stay on your toes. You can always indulge in mental revenge fantasies just for fun, though. Hehehe...

6.    I get to interview Patrick Wolf on Monday. Wooooooo!

7.    And I’m spent. See you real soon!

OK, we’ve already deemed 2007 the Best Summer Ever™, but this past weekend is vying for the title of Best Weekend of said summer. So many good times were had it’s hard to even remember them all. But I vividly remember the weekend ending late Sunday night at the Swingers restaurant in Santa Monica, after a surprisingly lackluster Underworld show at the Hollywood Bowl. They’re usually so awesome, and last night they were just kind of… there.

Anyway, after getting seated at Swingers and ordering an especially tasty seared Ahi sandwich, I noticed a familiar (and very pretty) face sitting just two booths away, heartily swigging at a bottle of Pellagrino water. It was none other than Brandon Boyd, the ultra-cool singer of the pride of Calabasas, Incubus. Dressed casually in a skullcap and flannel shirt, Brandon and his gal-pal were able to enjoy their meal without being besieged by a single fan (which in L.A., has to be kind of rare for him). Lucky for him, the alt-rock soundtrack playing on the Swingers sound-system never cued up any Incubus, but it came pretty close.

But the real question: When did the food at Swingers get so good? I’m just saying…

There was an extremely fun (and blurry!) couple of years when I lived in Chicago. No offense to my beloved L.A., but in the summertime, Chi-town is arguably the most fun city in America. But it’s hard not to party like a crazy person for the few scant months of sweltering heat when the city is buried beneath a deep freeze for most of the year.

One of those Chicago years was spent sharing a loft with DJs Colette and Dayhota, both charter members of the SuperJane DJ crew with Heather and Lady D. I call it my “Real World” year. If those walls could talk, they’d be really rich screenwriters by now. It was so much fun I eventually had to flee the city to avoid the non-stop party that life became out there.

I’ve always kept in touch with my old pals, and was so excited when Colette’s new album showed up in my promo pile. It’s called “Push” on Om Records, and is a super-fun collection of Technicolor dance tracks and CoCo’s lovely voice. I can’t stop playing “Funny,” a lush, downtempo hip-hop track that rides on an ocean of thick synthesizers akin to productions by the Neptunes. It’s such a nice song that I got kind of emotional with pride listening to it. If you like sweet dance beats attached to actual songs, give “Push” a whirl. Check Colette out live when she performs a free show (with a full band!) at Amoeba on Sept. 28. She brings out the band again at The Vanguard the following evening.

Colette, you’ve come a long way, sister. Rock on.

Oh, laborious. How you tortured me so. The last true party weekend of the season decides to do double duty as the hottest weekend of the year, too. Would that stop me from making my appointed rounds? But of course not, my sexy friends.

Saturday morning equaled an excuse to hit Pasadena and stuff my face with the soul-enriching macadamia nut pancakes at Marston’s. Oh, sweet, delicious glory.

Sunday night brought the big Chromatics show at the Echo. Way more people are into these Portland art-rockers than I realized. Maybe it was our DJ buddies at Part Time Punks pulling the crowd. Either way, by the time Ruth and the boys hit the stage, there were a lot of people queued up to watch them play.

Staying true to the monotonic ice hipstress persona she’s cultivated on Chromatics recordings, Ruth (that's her in the picture) stood stock still the entire time. Dressed in a purple dress, black belt and stilettos, she would occasionally sway from side to side and maybe stare blankly at someone in the crowd. But that’s it. The band (guitar, bass, drums—what, no synth player?), faithfully cranked out the tunes, with “In The City” and “Hands in the Dark (Dark Day)” standing as their strongest numbers (you can find both on the awesome “After Dark” compilation, released on the equally sweet Italians Do It Better label).

I wish I could quote Jessie’s infuriated rant about the show verbatim. But to paraphrase, the general idea is that as a performer, you have to give the audience something more than blank stares and static stage (non)presence.

The crowd, on the other hand, ate it up. I definitely enjoyed a sizable taste of my own. On the way out, I eagerly snapped up a copy of a special limited edition 12-inch of “In The City.” Getting it home, I was so excited to discover that it comes with an a cappella version, a killer minimal remix that’s borderline ghetto, and then, the piece de resistance: A deadpan cover of Springsteen’s 1985 single “I’m on Fire.” The perfect soundtrack for the hottest weekend I’ve ever had to endure in L.A. Keep burnin', y'all.

Oh man, how did these kids sneak up on me like this? I've been watching the Chromatics with an eagle eye ever since I first heard the dark, moody atmospheres of their song "In The City." From there it was a treasure trove of cool tunes via their Myspace page, including covers of Bryan Ferry's "My Only Love" and Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill." The music is kind of drone-y and weird, with singer Ruth melodically talking over the narcoleptic beats and tinkly synthesizer squiggles. In short, they're tops in my book. Imagine my excited surprise to discover they'll be doing their thing in town twice this weekend.

The Portand cuties start on Friday night at the "Weekend Warrior" party. It's happening at 122 Glendale Blvd in Echo Park on the 2nd Floor. Enter in the back alley behind the Bob Baker Puppet Theatre. Other acts include Hard Place and I Can't Read. DJs are Savage Fantasy and Blazing Lazer. Doors at 10PM.

Our deliciously detached anti-heroes will also hit the stage at the Echo on Sunday, 9/1, as part of the Part-Time Punks Party, which we already love. Talk about a nice way to kick off the Labor Day festivities. Word. I'll be the one coveting whatever they're selling at the merch table. 

OK, I’ve now officially lived in L.A. longer than any other city outside of my beloved hometown of Detroit. How it is that I’ve done it without catching at least one game at Dodger Stadium is a mystery.

I made my virgin voyage to the stadium earlier this summer to catch the Police reunion concert (awesome show, and Stewart Copeland is among the greatest rock drummers of all-time), and was immediately taken by the grandeur of the place.

So when I got the call that there was a ticket available for last night’s game against the Washington Nationals, I was intrigued. When I found out that the ticket was in the LA Times executive suite, I couldn’t say “oh HELL yes!” fast enough.

The field shot above is the view from the suite. But really, I should’ve been taking pictures of the elaborate and calorie-laden spread inside the room. I mean, the Dodger Dog station alone was enough to bring tears of joy to my eyes (or maybe it was just the onions). The refrigerator full of beer quickly became my new best friend. But then, the magic happened. The dessert cart arrived.

The dessert cart was loaded with piles of the most decadent displays of confectionary magic this side of the last time you got stoned and ended up in front of the bakery counter at Auntie Em’s Kitchen. The Red Velvet cake was divine, and the carrot cake was among the best I’ve ever tasted. I couldn’t even look at the Snickers cheesecake. But this was my favorite treat found on the cart.

A candy apple covered in M&Ms? Is this a baseball game or the munchies room at the Cannabis Cup?

By the time we rolled ourselves out of the stadium at the end of the game, our Dodger heroes had come from behind to beat the Nationals in a blaze of glory. Think Blue!

There are still plenty of games to take in before the season ends. And I hear that they can be as much if not more fun in the cheap seats as they are in an executive suite. Plus you can stuff your face just as righteously as the fatcats upstairs with their all-you-can-eat deal. I’ll try it one of these days, but not before I get my hands on some of that Snickers cheesecake in the suite. And another Dodger Dog. And maybe a couple more Heinekens…

1. Friday night was spent at the Hyperion Tavern hanging out with Metromix style maven Caroline Ryder at her party. It was fun. Chilling outside, met the very cool patrons of a new café two north of the joint. It’s yet to officially open, but they were kind enough to hand me a Red Stripe and make Jessie an exceptionally tasty cappuccino. Good people.  

2. Saturday was super-fun. First up, a tasty morning brunch at Mani's. There was a quick cloudburst over Fairfax while eating. The rare phenomenon made everyone in the area a little giddy. Later, the eternally cool team of Motormouthmedia honcho Judy Miller and her hubby Mark had a little get-together around the pool. The guys from No Age and Deerhunter were there, although Bradford Cox was passed out in the bedroom most of the time. When he finally emerged groggy and in search of In-N-Out Burger, Judy introduced him to everyone. He took it upon himself to replace our names with ones he deemed more appropriate. My Bradford Cox name is “Jimmy.” I’m cool with that.

3. Sunday was kinda awesome. For one, when’s the last time you watched the movie “Singles”? I’m just saying.

4. Brunch at Home is always such a good thing. The food is good, and they have a full bar. I'm just saying.

5. Leaving Home, happened upon what appears to be a killer vegan spot called Green Leaves. Ran into Laura and Kyle who were heading in for brunch. They gave it the highest recommendation possible, saying they hit the spot for grub on the regular. I know where I’ll be noshing next weekend.

6. CENSORED FOR CONTENT

7. Interlude (“Like New”)

8. CENSORED FOR CONTENT

9. Finally was able to pry myself away in time to hit the Echoplex moments before Deerhunter took the stage as part of the Fuck Yeah Fest. Ran into Judy and Mark. Mark tells me that Bradford was up all night burning music from his vast and amazing collection.

10. Deerhunter plays. They are a zillion times better than they were when I saw them open for the Ponys at the Echo a few months ago. They meander through tunes like “Octet” and “Wash Away” in a controlled but still semi-chaotic manner. Bradford does not wear a wig or a dress, but a cool t-shirt with graphics from the 1981 ska documentary “Dance Craze.”

11. I bought a Deerhunter shirt. Yes, I am a music nerd.

12. Can someone please help me secure a copy of the Deerhunter/Hubcap City 7-inch on Rob’s Records? I know there are only 300 in existence, but I need Deerhunter’s “Greyscale” on vinyl.

13. Thanks, and take care of each other out there.

On my way out of last night's awesome Yeah Yeah Yeahs show, I saw Vincent Gallo kicking it with Eric, the super-tall guitar player that you might remember from his days in Hole. These two drunk girls were hanging all over Gallo, who was nice but didn't seem interested. He happily agreed to pose for a photo, and then struck this casual pose which made me laugh. Chill dude, and chicks dig him. Nice work, if you can get it.

Karen O and I go way back. No, not like that, Mr. Dirty Mind. I've just been a big fan from the moment I first got my hands on their debut full-length, "Fever To Tell." At some points, you could've called it fanatical. Which is why I was kind of discombobulated around the solidly sold out Yeah Yeah Yeahs show at the Mayan last night. Enough that it took me awhile to actually make my way down there (I kind of committed the cardinal sin of concert-going: leaving the house without my ticket. Doh!). By the time I got there, the place was a giant sardine can of humanity, forming an impenetrable wall between me and anywhere even close to the stage. Not good. Hmmm, time to get crafty.

That’s when I spied the doorway leading out to the smoking patio. Going outside, I see that there’s another door leading back into the theater, only this door opens up onto the main floor area. Score!

I wormed my way into the crowd and got my face rocked off by Karen and the boys. She’s definitely calmed down some since the last time I saw them play at the Fonda a couple of years ago (Karen wore a folding chair that night. You try pulling that look off). But she’s no less intense. Of course, she still broke out her signature moves, like deep-throating the microphone and spitting a geyser of beer into the air. An acoustic version of "Maps" was appropriately weepy. She donned and cast off a variety of killer accessories, like the bowler hat with a veil made of long, glittery ribbon and a giant cape with a detatchable hood. 

So yeah, they were awesome. I’m still stuck on the immediate gratification of songs from “Fever to Tell,” but “Cheated Hearts” and especially “Phenomena” from "Show Your Bones" were epic. Yeah Yeah Yeahs still got it, no doubt.

PS: Will someone over at Interscope PLEASE holla at a player? Seriously.  

Um, yeah. What can you really ever say about the Sunset Junction the Monday morning after? You're usually doing well if you can say anything at all.

While my mouth is slowly learning how to function properly again, I do remember a few things. Like seeing freak-folkster Devandra Barnhart kicking it on Sunset with a cute girl. I saw two people completely incapacitated on booze (or whatever) passed out on the ground. One was a girl on the side of the street during the Buzzcocks set on Sunday. She had a sweet haircut. Too bad it was plastered with her puke. Not a good look. The other was this dude propped up against a car drooling while his friend pointlessly held his hand. We think getting him somewhere safe and an IV drip of water would’ve made more sense. Yes, it was yet another Sunset Junction.

Lots of good things happened, too. I saw my old friend Joe Donnelly. I made some new friends (wink!). I ate really good food and quaffed really good beer at MMX LA's fearless leader Deb's spot, which was conveniently Junction adjacent.

But you don’t want to hear my silly stories. You want to look at pictures of the cool bands that played. So I’ll shut up for now.