In tracking down all the deets for the possible Tender Greens' expansion into downtown's Brockman Building, something caught my eye. The Downtown News had reported that "a sprawling gourmet market and restaurant on the glass-enclosed ground floor" is slated to open in the loft complex across from Seven Grand. "It's a type of Dean & Deluca place where you can meet, people watch, see and be seen" the piece teases further. 

Hmm...just on a hunch, I called the peeps at Dean & Deluca to see if they would spill the beans on their move west. The West Coast flagship is already planned for a 2009 opening in Newport Beach's Fashion Island, but "is it possible that more stores will open in L.A. proper, let's say, like in downtown?"

The D&D folks charmingly played along but in the end would "neither confirm nor deny" the rumor that a Dean & Deluca something or somethings may or may not be opening somewhere in Los Angeles. At further prodding, D&D did say it's "possible" that as a "prelude" to the opening of the Fashion Island flagship, some of the smaller café-style Dean & Delucas may find their way to L.A...but nothing will be announced until after the new year.

That's good enough for me. I'm ready to restock my spice rack and I'll talk to you, D&D, in the new year.

—Jiyeon Yoo

 

How did I miss this? Tender Greens is growing. The second outpost will set up much farther south in San Diego, specifically at Point Loma's Liberty Station. I can't imagine that it won't be successful. If anything plenty o'greens should keep the Naval folks afloat (goodness, what did I mean by that?). Anyway, projected opening date: spring 2008.

The other locations are planned for parts closer to home, and will venture eastward from its founding Culver City locale. Sorry, Silverlakers, the West Hollywood spot will be just shy of traversing La Cienega, projected to open on Santa Monica Blvd. near Hancock Ave. in fall 2008. (Stop the bellyaching, you've got Intelligentsia.)

Third location is still up in the air, but if things go right for those of us stuck in a downtown building for 15 hours a day, we'll get our supply of leafy greens from something more than the commissary salad bar. The attempts to create a "thriving Restaurant Row" along 7th St. would be helped along if Tender Greens does end up inking a deal inside the Brockman Building—the 80-condo complex that overlooks Seven Grand. Anyone in the market for a downtown loft?

—Jiyeon Yoo

Sunny patio for downtown? Credit: Vanessa Stump

 

 

Friday, 2:37 p.m.:

A text message is received: 

 

Saturday, 11:54 p.m.:

 

The weekend before Halloween is a tricky one. Any holiday requiring the possible application of prosthetic body parts should be a one-day affair, but this year it's adopted a Hanukkah mentality, stretching itself over several consecutive days of madness. 

Here are a few glimpses from the weekend, which required military-grade party hopping skills, roughly 70 miles in one day on the Subaru odometer, and zero alcoholic beverages on my part. Judging from the two guys in football helmets hosing each other down with 40s in front of the Silverlake Mc Donalds at 3:15 am, I may have been alone in my elective sobriety.

First up Saturday night was a stop at Mr. Micah Calabrese's Echo Park digs. Annie Hardy, his former bandmate and frontwoman for Giant Drag, dressed as an A&R person, complete with a dozen backstage passes and a devil tail—which at times was used in a lewd fashion. But Micah's I can has cheezburger tribute may have rocked the hardest:

 

From there, I hit a party in Van Nuys (I know—scary), featuring a full maze of terror constructed in the driveway and babies on the BBQ:

Next it was Tyler's Big A** Halloween Party, staged in a parking lot behind Zankou Chicken in East Hollywood. I just missed comrades The Front playing some sort of tech-haunted set (I think there was a poltergeist in the PA), but I did get to gawk at some impressive costumes:

(The Ward experiences revulsion toward a blood-drenched Kelly Kutasy) 

 

(Rad costumes, but their shower curtain is going to be stained blue, for like, ever. Blue scalp? How does this happen?)

But my personal favorite costume: Hi and Ed from "Raising Arizona"

I think I may have screamed "I love you" at this couple. I'm sorry. I was just very excited.

From there, it was more hopping about, then back to Micah's to eat Baked Lays on the roof with a troop of comrades. The strangest part was that Halloween has happened, but it hasn't actually happened. I feel like I'm caught in some sort of quantum wormhole.

Alright, if you had to work all weekend, or if you haven't yet had your fill of ladies in thigh-highs dressed as trampy nurses, you still have many many options. If you don't have a costume, just pimp Micah's, like Georgia did:

Get out there people, and please continue to rock on,

-Alie Ward 

 

In case y'alls didn't have enough cheap Halloween options, let me herald this very last minute Halloween night party from Filter Mag and the lovely Gracie Cakes, party promoter extraordinaire.

It's in Silverlake, 7 bucks with RSVP, 10 at the door, and is rife with all kinds of Mogwai DJ and costume madness. RSVP to partycakesdude@gmail.com, and get that whorish costume together, comrade.

- Alie Ward 

 

After coming this far, it had to happen. I’d long resigned myself to the idea that I wouldn’t get into the super-exclusive Sex Pistols show at the Roxy last night. So when Jessie told me that Indie 103 had put her on the list and that I could be her +1, I jumped at the opportunity.

It’s not everyday that you get to see the seminal UK punk band crank up the classics in such a small space. Which is why when they launched into “Anarchy in the UK” to wind up their chaotic set, I had to dive into the pit swirling in front of the stage. Mostly comprised of drunken contest winners flailing about aimlessly, it wasn’t nearly as treacherous as I’d imagine it was in some punk club like the Paradiso that the Pistols used to play back in the day, but it was a rush nonetheless. Granted, it was original bassist Glen Matlock and not Sid Vicious up there, but you can't have it all. Taking shots at Paris Hilton, the Ramones, fat girls and pretty much everyone in attendance, singer Johnny Lydon (AKA “Rotten”) was happily caustic as ever. Ending the show by dropping the microphone and proclaiming “Elvis has left the building,” it was easy to see why Lydon and the Pistols shocked the world thirty years ago with the release of their legendary “Never Mind the Bullocks” album. Indie 103 has earned major kudos for pulling off such a historical event. The station has definitively proven that they’ve graduated from the new kid in town to a major force to be reckoned with here in Los Angeles. With DJs like Henry Rollins, Sex Pistol guitarist Steve Jones and hipster-baiting celeb Danny Masterson playing pretty much whatever the hell they want, Indie is the closest most of us will ever come to the glory days of freeform FM radio that ruled the early 70s. God bless Indie 103...

There are ample opportunities to have your own sonic epiphany this weekend. Tonight finds James Lavelle bringing his epic post-trip-hop dance-rock outfit UNKLE to the Echoplex, or dig into the experimental electronics of Canadian trippers Caribou.

Tomorrow night, throw your devil horns in the sky for L.A. bad girls the Donnas, rocking the Roxy with ex-L7 member Donita Sparks. For a softer touch, brave the Irvine Meadows down south for the first-ever Girlfrenzy fest, featuring Sheryl Crow, Avril Lavigne and Fiona Apple’s only scheduled American date for the rest of the year. There’s also punky power-pop trio 1990s revving it up at the Troubadour.

Sunday night brings sensory overload with our favorite Canadian dance-punks Hot Hot Heat at the Fonda, San Diego acoustic-pop heroes Pinback do it at the Wiltern and yet another cool Canadian, Owen Pallett, better known as Final Fantasy, headlining the Troubadour with his violin-powered antics.

Choose wisely, young Jedi. Time is of the essence. Now go forth and party. Good day!

— Scott T. Sterling 

(Photo: Reuters)

 

We know DJ AM can spin. But did you know that he’s also quite the artiste? He designed the new Diet Pepsi bottle with Niko Archtipes. It’s cute, right? I can totally see Lindsay Lohan making it her new virgin bubbly of choice. 

Pepsi’s throwing a party at LAX on Sunday to celebrate. I hear it’ll be impossible to get into, but I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out something.—Alexandra Le Tellier 

When it comes to “sexy,” Joe Alexandrow at Joe Joe Promotions is all about throwing parties that are busting at the seams with provocative themes. (The females in his crowd, too, like to bust at the seams.) For Halloween, for instance, he’s taking over hip-hop club the Highlands on Saturday to host a lingerie ball, which is like the most un-clever way of getting girls to show up in their knickers. Inviting Marilyn Manson to host the party, however, is a total surprise. Of all the parties to host, I'd think this event in particular (mainstream, déclassé, obvious) would have Manson running as fast as possible in the opposite direction. And it's not like he needs the money. Maybe he has a trick up his sleeve that involves fake blood and a demonstration of what he deems "sexy." Should that be the case, then this will be the best Halloween bash of the year.—Alexandra Le Tellier 

Someone get me a tissue. My favorite wine bar, Bodega DeCordova, is for sale—but not because it’s become a bust. Over email, owner Kenny DeCordova told me:

i'm actually trying to move back to miami.  my folks are there and i'd like to start a family.  also, it's closer to europe.  it might take a little while to sell, but i'll do my best to keep the bar the same.

 

Fair enough, though I might chain myself to the door in protest anyway.   

Inexpensive wine + cozy nooks = bliss
Ignorance also equals bliss, so next time I’m at Bodega, I’ll be ordering a glass of that.
—Alexandra Le Tellier

 

Just got word that chef Keith Silverton read Metromix's review of Lift in which we gently took the new Hollywood restaurant to task for its price points. As a result, Chef Silverton has decided (drum roll, please) to lower menu prices. 

But how much? The exact details are still in the works but once we find out, we'll report back to you. In the meantime: we're pleased as punch that someone had read anything on our humble site. But more importantly, that Lift is a restaurant that cares to listen and respond to its clientele. This bodes very well for the post-Opera sloshed crowd.

Now if they would do something about getting valet...what? You think we're pushing it? OK, we'll get off this power trip.

(If you don't recall the exact points, feel free to refresh your memory here.)

 

—Jiyeon Yoo

Update: Chef Silverton informed us that items will be lowered one to two dollars across the menu. The reduction isn't as big as we imagined in our inflated heads—it's still definitely more expensive than a night at CPK—but we'll take it. More significantly, Silverton is planning a new dinner menu once the restaurant rolls into the intended 22-hour schedule November 1st—and the new menu should be even friendlier to the fiscally-challenged. Oh and that valet? It's in the works. All in a day's work.  

 

Happy fifth anni, Edendale Grill—which is like 25 in restaurant-dog years, so a big congrats to you. (BTW, if you're ever strapped in trying to figure out your puppy's real age. The internet is a strange, strange place.)

 

The lovely historic firehouse on Rowena celebrated with a quiet, little party Monday night. The theme was Halloween—appropriate, we guess. The live accordionist and banjo-ist set an old-time feel—also appropriate. We would have stolen their awesome hats at one point in the evening...but it wasn't that kind of party.

We were told the chef and the menu are new, but none of the food for the evening seemed to reflect this. Which may have been a good thing because the mac-n-cheese was pretty poor (it's unfair to judge a restaurant by its party food, but still). And, unless the dessert menu plans on channeling supermarket bakery chic, we're pretty certain the sweets table was a last minute trip to the local Ralphs.

Exhibit A    

    We rest our case.

As we were leaving, we almost ran smackdab into Steven Cojocaru who had just dropped off his car at valet and was rushing in to meet some of his friends inside. We couldn't bust out or camera fast enough, so we'll leave you with the last time the Cojo made eye-contact with us. Call us, Steven. 

—Jiyeon Yoo

 

 

Sure, there are just about a zillion Halloween options in L.A. this year. But how many of them are costume balls and feature one of the city’s coolest new emerging bands, the effortlessly awesome J*Davey (pictured below), right next to L.A.’s very own indie Justin Timberlake, Grey Kid, high atop the Standard Hotel downtown? Exactly one. It would be remiss not to mention that your friends here at Metromix are pleased as spiked punch to be one of the hosts of this sure-to-be-memorable night of Halloween hysteria. Costumes are required, and best of all it's absolutely free! Just RSVP at Metromix@danceright.net and you're good to go. 

But the big question that looms over every Halloween social event is the eternal debate: Scary vs. Slutty? Somewhere over the past ten years or so, it’s become a tradition for ladies to use Halloween as an excuse to unleash their inner (or in some cases, outer) exhibitionist, turning even the most rote get-up into a red-hot explosion of eye candy. If I had a dollar for every “sexy mouse,” “slutty witch” and “hooker/zombie” spied at Halloween parties over the years, I’d be the king of the Blue Zebra.

Regardless, we’re looking forward to seeing what kinds of fresh and original Halloween get-ups y’all can pull together this year. Surprise us with something other than a “slutty (fill in the blank).” Although we won’t be mad if you want to just wear a bikini and a pair of vampire fangs. We won’t hold it against you. Promise.

—Scott T. Sterling 

 

First-most, my comrades: hello again. We had a brief hiatus from blogomania, but it's nice to be back in black...and white striped socks. 

If you've had a nutty week, I think it's best that you decompress by scheduling as many back-to-back recreational activities as possible.

Friday

Tonight, I hear that David Cross is playing the devil at the grotesquely hilarious Hollywood Hellhouse, Dylan Mulroney is Jesus, and the "Kid n Play guy" is DJing the boozy youth group afterparty. Oh, hell yeah!

 
Saturday 
I myself am straight-pumped about the Angel City Drive-in on Saturday. Bring some wine and cheese (or a 40 and some Baked Lays) for a friggity-free screening of not just Evil Dead 1, but Evil Dead 2, people. Double your evil! We're dizzy with the awesomeness.

Also awesome, but so-effing-sold-out-its-tragic, is the Silversun Pickups, Midnight Movies and Happy Hallows show at the Wiltern Saturday night. No, you can't buy tickets. But I'm not above milling about in front of the venue, begging strangers for an extra. 

If you fear both zombies and ticket haggling, you could always hit the Immigrant Punk art show of off-beat drawings at the lovely little Black Maria gallery in Atwater. If you're an art hopper, catch the Camille Rose Garcia show Saturday night, too.

Sunday
Either take a stroll in the park and pick up some bitchin' crafty items at the Barnsdall Art Market, hide indoors with thousands of pasty-faced gamers, or get some cheap (free) laughs with a man known as The Fogland. Okay, only I call him the Fogland, and behind his back, but he is a funny man, and is appearing at Josh Fadem's Acid Reflux Hour on Sunday. 

Also on the agenda, for me personally: pancakes, looking at baby kittens, the eradication of at least one major global illness, and maybe laundry. Yay for weekends.

 

Get to it,

-Alie Ward  

 

PS- Tickets for David Sedaris go on sale on Monday, Oct. 22 (for a show in, yes, January). Also, the Metromixians are having a huge party/show at the Viper Room on Tuesday. Moving Units, Paul V, free booze. Hello! You can still rsvp at rsvpla@metromix.com and I suggest you do so at once.
 

  

Here’s the thing I love about Michael Sutton:

(There are more hot pics from where that came from.) 

 
But the emmy-nominated-actor-turned-model-turned-promoter-and-restaurateur is also quite the savvy businessman and he’s endeavored to make November 2007 all about him. He already owns the after-hours membership club Xenii, which costs a butt load of money to join, as well as trendy spots the Lodge and Charcoal. Next month, he’ll also add two more A-list venues to his roster: Jane’s House and Goa, both scheduled to open the second week of November.

Jane’s House, which is located in the spot that used to house Sutton’s southern-style restaurant Memphis on Hollywood Boulevard, has been retooled to have a French theme, much like Balthazar and Pastis in NYC. The concept: Come for the food, stay for the lounge. The food: French bistro—but it’ll come on small plates as to not scare away the pro-ana bar hoppers. The décor: He says the courtyard patio is decked out to look like a living room and that there’s a big old arbor tree at the entrance to create intimacy. The preview: Expect a soft opening on Halloween, hosted by Brett Ratner’s assistant Hopi Dobuler. [UPDATE: Jane's House will now open in January 2008.]

Then, over at Goa at 1615 Cahuenga, he’s unveiling an Indian-themed dance club that serves sushi and plays Euro house. That’s the other thing I love about Michael Sutton: he’s a lover of many cultures. Did I mention I was French and Jewish? —Alexandra Le Tellier

Remember a few months back when I was talking about Harlot on the Sunset Strip? It was supposed to be the bar known as "the little French whore across the street from the Chateau Marmont" until the owner Prem Joshi learned there was already a bar named Harlot in California. Well, it finally opened its doors as Libertine last Friday and there's nothing slutty about it. Exhibit A: Mickey Mouse keeps an eye on the crowd.

Joshi's goal was to make it the anti-club. "When I go out in Hollywood, my shoulders tense up at the door," he said, "But when I'm in Tokyo or London, I feel relaxed. And that's the whole point of going out: to relax." Here, here brother. In line with that train of thought, there's no list at the door or a cover charge. Anyone can get in.

But that's not where Joshi's rebellious streak ends. When he wasn't granted permission to host a happy hour, he declared: "We don’t need a happy hour because we’re happy all the time." The result: $6 cocktails made with premium liquors like Effen, Tanqueray and Jack Daniels—in a part of town where the neighborhood norm is twice that.

The club doesn't officially open until the end of the month—Joshi's debating between the 26th or the 27th—so here's a preview to tide you over.

The club has the feel of a house party, which is due in part to the fact that it used to be an apartment building. (Rumor has it that it was also Charlie Caplin's home in the '20s and a speakeasy after that.)

The DJs are not allowed to play Top 40 and hip-hop. At Libertine, it's all about jazz, electro, house and what Joshi calls "good" rock.

 

Happiness = free pretzels. Bliss = the upcoming menu from chef Gabriel Morales. "He used to be at Republic," said Joshi, "in the beginning when it was still good."



The steep staircase leads to the stone patio, which used to be a parking lot. There are plans for turning the basement underneath the stairs into a cave-like grotto. 

You may have to fork over $20 to the valet parking attendant but at least you have this hotness to look at while you wait for your car.—Alexandra Le Tellier

The crowd has, in the main, been very well behaved at Fashion Week this season--with a couple of notable exceptions.

Exhibit 1: The guy with the gold grille, red hair and the walking stick at BOXeight Downtown.

He was unmistakable if you saw him, a strange cross between Boy George and Jaws from Moonraker with his mouthful of metal. Picture him, walking around, looking crazy. As a good reporter I felt compelled to ask what the hell his deal was.

ME: "Who are you"

CRAZY, taking my hand in his: "Here's all you need to know. It's in your hands."

At this point I realized I was not dealing with any of the usual self-promoting Fashion Week bores, and put down my notepad.  But I coudn't keep my eyes off those teeth. I haven't seen many skinny red-haired white boys rocking that much dental gold in a long time.

ME: "Are they real grilles?" I asked.

CRAZY: "Yes, they cost me told $30,000."

Amazed, I asked if I could touch them, and he said yes - but only with my tongue, lips or face.

I will say, dear reader/s, that I rose to the challenge, and did indeed make out with the craziest man at fashion week, all in the name of Metromix and reportage.  And yes, the gold was for reals. I justified my actions to my boyfriend by describing the incident as less makeout, and more performance art.

I wish I had a photo of this special gentlemen (who was spotted peeing in the BOXeight garden not long after our embrace), but my camera had died.

I do, however, have a photo of someone who was almost as funny. Here he is on the left, having an Ed Hardy lovefest with some other guy at Smashbox.

This fruity-breathed Cassanova asked every single girl that walked past him for their card and number (including me, naturally I gave both). He was so over-friendly, he became a source of amusement for all around. He was the rep for a water company, and as one photographer asked him "are you sure that's all thats in that bottle?"

Models were plus-sized, snowy haired, stubbly-faced (and female), cracked-out and hypnotizingly non-traditional at last night's Grey Ant show.

The show (and the clothes) was one of the most innovative of I've seen at Smashbox, and made me very happy to be writing about fashion in LA at this time.

Grant Krajecki, founder and designer of the LA-based label, normally shows alongside Marc Jacobs and Phillip Lim in New York. But he was brought back to LA this season by fashion powerhouse, Kelly Cutrone of Peoples' Revolution. Smashbox made a wise move in hiring her as a consultant, as she has singlehandedly transformed LA Fashion Week this season, bringing back big name designers like Jeremy Scott, Heatherette, Grey Ant and Petro Zillia to LA.

I made friends with a writer for an Irish magaine called Image, who was writing a story about the fashion scene in LA. I told her she should speak to Cutrone, which she did. Apparently Cutrone was frank, honest and illiuminating, and talked about her vision for LA Fashion Week at length. She said she had initially wanted to have Valentino show here, except then he went and announced his retirement.

Can you imagine...Valentino? In LA??? Keep on keepin' on Kelly, we like your style.

 

I won't be the first to say this, and I won't be the last. So, let's get this over and done with: the next Iron Chef is neither made of iron nor a she-ef...just give me that one, I beg you. Now, let's discuss with our local favorite Chef Jill Davie who was the second and last female contender to be ousted in this very young competition.

 

First, a quick review: in the premiere, the Vegas odds-on favorite Traci des Jardins was summarily dispatched. The second epi began with the "Simplicity" challenge where each chef was tasked to represent his or her culinary style in a single bite in 30 minutes, and poor Jill came out of the scrum with...buffalo tenderloin.

The elimination challenge required "Innovation." And when one thinks of innovation with a capital "I" who else comes to mind but Wylie Dufresne with a capital "W.D." If you recall, Chef Dufresne's appearance on the finale of season two's Top Chef nearly caused resident molecular gastro-nerd Marcel's hair to stand on end—or not. A quick primer from the venerable mad food scientist, and chef Jill whimsically played off the idea of fake food with a faux bucco where a potato mimicked shank bone while the freezo fritto was liquid-nitrogen frozen veggies that should have tasted like they were fried, if only the production crew didn't make the plates sit around for over two hours...in a hot kitchen. 

Alas, the judges got Chris Cosentino's razor clams-and-shaving cream dish (who am I to question what it tasted like, but that dish looked like, um, never mind) but not Chef Jill's whimsy and sent her along her merry way. We caught up with the spritely chef to talk tenderloin, liquid nitrogen and the sticky business of English grammar.

Did you drink after that elimination challenge? We would have gotten piss drunk.
You know, I had a beer. I had a St. Pauli Girl actually, now that you mention it. And I sat and I thought, "Hmm, was that really a proud moment?" But the other part of me thought you can't take it personally. That's not a dish that I would be serving anytime soon. The most important thing for me is that I had a good time and I didn't come across as some big loser, because I know that I'm not.

Oh no, not at all. We can't say it enough: we think you're adorable.
Why thank you! Well, that's good. I don't know, some of the guys are so ego-ey and into it. And alot of the times I'd just start laughing. Because I was so over being with the guys at some point. This one time, I remember it was just so hot and crazy in the kitchen, I looked into the camera and I asked (feigns ditzy voice), "Is my mascara running? Really. Because I need to know." (Laughs)

So what do you think about the male-dominated field now?
Um, not too much. But one thing...what did [judge] Donatella say?

Editor's note: We know exactly what Miss Arpaia said in the first episode because we also recoiled at her choice words of what she is looking for in an Iron Chef. We quote, "An Iron Chef has to know who he is and be very confident about it..."

I know it’s grammatically correct to say "he." I understand it’s "proper." But it was kind of awkward to be standing in front of a panel of judges, and Tracy and I are going who is the “he”? Who will the "next he” be? I’m certain she didn’t mean for it to come out that way but it was just one of those things. And being a UC Santa Cruz graduate, I’ve become so condition to respond to that. I literally felt the dagger go through my heart, like “Oh Lord, I can’t believe this!”

What was your first "representative" dish supposed to be?
You know, the reality was that some of the people ran up there and grabbed their stuff. And I was like, "Oh, I guess I'm getting the buffalo. You have scallops. Geez, wouldn't that have been great!" Granted, it was a beautiful piece of tenderloin, and I was going for a petit buffalo filet mignon with crispy-fried mustard greens. In hindsight within the allotted 30 minutes, I should have gone with maybe seared, like rare-something.

 

Any chance we'll see any of those dishes at Josie soon?
Oh, no. [Molecular gastronomy] was futile. It wasn't very realistic for me. Personally, I could care less about it. It was fun to learn about. Definitely insightful. I’m just not impressed by foams, but that’s just me. Everybody is different. Hey, now that Halloween is coming up, liquid nitrogen would make a really good tableside goulash.

Indeed. Anyone know where we can pick up some liquid nitrogen? —Jiyeon Yoo

 

 

I was impatiently waiting for the light to change at the intersection of Arlington and Washington in the much-ballyhooed “Mid-City” section of Los Angeles when I noticed this quite serendipitous juxtaposition of posters. Metromix, meet Daft Punk. Daft Punk, Metromix:

I couldn’t have positioned them better myself. Well, unless they were combined into one super-poster announcing the Metromix-sponsored Daft Punk tour of the world with special guest DJ, um, Me. That would have been better. But I’m pretty cool with what we’re working with here.

It was also a gentle reminder for the 16,000 or so Los Angelenos that had their brains melted by Daft Punk when they played the Sports Arena this summer (aka “The Greatest Show on Earth”) and those unfortunate souls that missed it: Daft Punk is playing in our time zone yet again! That’s right, disco robots. Daft Punk will be lighting up the party pyramid “One More Time” on Saturday, Oct. 27 in the desert confines of the Vegoose music festival. And as much as we denizens of L.A. like to road-trip over to Vegas to get our freak on, cruising into Nevada to bear witness to the last North American close encounter of the Daft Punk kind this year is a no-brainer.

What, you want something closer to home? Then make sure to put on your dancing shoes and skip your skinny ass up to the Roxy for the Fool’s Gold tour, featuring underground party favorites like DJ A-Trak, DJ Mehdi and Kid Sister turning up the neon for your disco pleasures. See you on the dance floor.

—Scott T. Sterling