It was among the most surreal moments of the year. I was in the blue carpet scrum in front of the Hollywood Avalon, watching Pharrell Williams and racecar driver Jeff Gordon work the press line. As they approached the People magazine crew I’m standing behind, Pharrell walks right up and shakes my hand. “I remember you from the last time,” he offered before returning to the sea of reporters, whom at this point are now all giving me the ol’ side-eye.

I guess I should have expected the unexpected at this bizarre collision of culture. It’s not everyday that one of the hottest producers in the game is scheduled to perform at a NASCAR event where Heidi and Spencer are signing autographs outside. It got even weirder inside, when I spied pro skater Terry Kennedy, rap star Common and singer Rihanna.

Of course, the cliché is that NASCAR is a sport even “whiter” than hockey, a southern-fried American tradition that also includes prominent display of the Confederate flag and exactly one African-American to ever win a Grand National title, Wendell Scott back in 1963.

But it was a rainbow coalition on the dance floor when N.E.R.D. finally took the stage for a quick, four-song set. Even though it took a couple of songs to get the crowd really fired up (“I hate corporate events” Williams sighed early in the set), once the band pulled a dozen or so young women onto the stage, the vibe was hot enough to get the cheese-eaters on the balcony to join the party. Even Common got up there and busted a wicked freestyle at the end of “She Wants to Move.”

Rappers rocking a NASCAR party? Yeah, right. Soon you’ll be trying to tell me that a woman is running for VP on the Republican ticket...

—Scott T. Sterling

This just in! Can't get into the exclusive Skybar? You'll no longer need to leave the Mondrian with your tail between your legs. The Sunset Strip hotel is transforming its lobby lounge very soon into a chic destination for tourists and hipsters alike. I pinky swore that I wouldn't reveal the exclusive details until Saturday, so all I'll tell you for now is that the new bar will have you craving creamsicles.

—Alexandra Le Tellier

Whenever celebrities reach a certain level of notoriety, the perimeters of their career begin to dissolve. Sometimes it’s a good thing, like Leonardo DiCaprio moonlighting as an environmental activist. Other times, the results are less than stellar: Remember when Oprah thought she could sing her own theme song? Even if they have no formal training or are any good at what they plan on doing, celebrities are surrounded by both money and nodding heads, enabling them to do whatever they desire.

Three years after their “Domestic Bliss” photo spread in W magazine—the one that rubbed Brangelina’s relationship in Jennifer Aniston’s face by depicting the couple as an ordinary suburban family with an extraordinary wardrobe—the couple everyone wants to be in a three-way with is doing it again. Except this time, Brad will be behind the camera. Apparently, photography is a hobby of his. While I don’t anticipate it will be bad—it’s kind of hard to take a bad shot when you can always fall back on Photoshop and “artistic vision”—I sincerely hope for his sake that the photos are good. It’s easy to forgive almost anything he does in front of the camera because, well, he’s in front of them camera. But what will we think when this kid, of all those kids, is not in the picture?

—Marcos Luevanos

More than one of my friends has asked me: “Why the hell are you going to see Radiohead two nights in a row?”

My friends, you go see Radiohead two nights in a row because unlike most bands, you’re going to get two wildly different shows. Our heroes did not disappoint on this pair of L.A. shows in support of the quietly awesome In Rainbows album. Let’s break it on down, shall we?

1. I’m so not alone in seeing Radiohead twice. On my way into the show, I ran into my buddy Scott, who had also snagged a ticket for his second show in as many days. I overheard more than one conversation start with “were you here last night, too?”

2. Celebrities still love Radiohead. I spent less time ogling by the west entrance for this show, but still managed to spy Martha Plimpton(!), Dave Grohl, Mike D of the Beastie Boys, Jessica Biel (back for her second night in a row) and even Colin Greenwood himself, who lingered in the common area for awhile.

3. I actually caught Liars this time, and their punishing, rhythmic assault is a bit much for this crowd. There was a group of three teens row-hopping who paused to scream hysterically whenever there is a break between Liars songs. The cheese-eaters around me just ignored them.

4. Long live The Bends! Radiohead came with a set that veered wildly from the first night’s more controlled affair, which relied heavily on the band’s most recent releases. But for the big Night 2, the boys got loose and started shooting from the hip. Reaching back to their fabled second album, they pulled out “The Bends,” “Planet Telex” and even “Fake Plastic Trees,” which of course turned into a massive sing-along. When they revved up “Street Spirit,” well, let’s just say that the Ghost of 1995 was somewhere smiling.

5. Yorke goes solo! For the first encore, Thom Yorke performed “Cymbal Rush” from his acclaimed solo album, The Eraser. It was great, even though he did fumble it towards the beginning and had to start over. Human after all, huh, Thom?

6. On the second night they closed the show with rave-up “Idiotique,” (that's Thom freaking out at the end of said song above), which on the first night was a good three songs from the end of the initial set. The wide-angle shot at the top of this post was taken during the lovely acoustic one-two punch of "Faust Arp" with a cover of Neil Young's "Tell Me Why," which was not a part of the first show. Like I said: wildly different.

7. The only bummer about it all? That there isn’t a third show tonight…

—Scott T. Sterling

I was probably asking for it. The week after Metromix debuts In.Mouth.Now, a new feature talking about our latest, can’t-get-off-our-brain food obsessions, I encounter this on a short trip to the Yucatan:



The most riquísimo fish tacos. Ever. Punto y basta.

But the infatuation will have to remain so for a long while, as these beauties reside on the other side of the North American continent. You need to get on a ferry boat to Isla Mujeres, then rent a scooter, and drive the length of the island until you come to a smoke-engorged shack by the beach to make your rendezvous. I can’t stop thinking about ‘em.

I’m sure I’ll try to hound down something comparable in L.A. once I’m done pining. Hillhurst’s Best Fish Taco in Ensenada won’t do—that’s Baja-style and deep-fried. And Yuca’s, though passably Yucatecan, doesn’t have fish tacos last time I checked—the same goes for Chichen Itza, L.A.’s best diplomat from the peninsula.

It must be this: On the island, fish (most likely, red snapper or even tilapia) is grilled under some kind of aromatic wood to create a delicious smoky essence. Even the tortillas are grilled, a genius technique that brings out the richness of the starch.

That, and a bottle of cerveza on the sands? Sigh…

Anyone have a secret restaurant, shack, even an aging, taco-making auntie with an unauthorized firepit in her backyard? I’ll drive anywhere and pay top dollar. You know where to find me.

—Jiyeon Yoo

There’s nothing quite like a Radiohead show. I was reminded of this fact in vivid detail Sunday afternoon en route to see the band at the Hollywood Bowl. Actually, the first of their two-night stand was loaded with all sorts of interesting asides and observations:

1. Thanks to some friends having a pre-Radiohead birthday party/picnic, I was reminded of the ample public picnicking areas all around the Bowl. Locating Scott, Andi (the birthday girl) and their crew at the Highland/Camrose picnic area, it feels like a crime that I don’t take advantage of this space more. There were similar pre-parties going on all around, with lots of eating, drinking and good timing abound. You would do well to investigate for yourselves.

2. People that go to Radiohead shows are generally pretty damn cool. I know that’s a blanket observation, but it bears out every time. The Sunday show was no exception, as I started talking music with a couple of guys at Andi’s party, and we ended up walking into the show together. These guys were as music-nerded out as myself, so it was a really fun walk through the teeming masses of like-minded people making their way into the show. My favorite quote of the day came from one of them: “I feel like I could be totally hang out and become friends with anybody here.” Indeed.

3. Celebrities love them some Radiohead. Taking a stroll to the west entrance of the Bowl, I spied Justin Timberlake, Jessica Biel, Christina Aguilera (looking great, despite having recently dropped a little one) and her husband, Ellen Degeneres, Portia DeRossi, Lukas Haas, Clea Duvall, Ryan Phillipe…you get the picture. I’m sure that’s only a drop in the bucket, as all of those celebs were literally spotted in a span of less than five minutes.

4. Radiohead is still the new Pink Floyd. I mean wow. They now have so many amazing songs in their catalog, there isn’t a dull moment in the entire show. This includes the songs from In Rainbows.

5. Speaking of In Rainbows, anyone that disses the album as a “lesser” Radiohead album have obviously not heard the songs performed in concert. Sleeper tunes like “Jigsaw Falling Into Place” fit into their set list perfectly, while the quietly acoustic “Faust Arp” plays like a long-lost Beatles song from Revolver. Don’t even get me started on “Weird Fishes” or the eternal “House of Cards,” which is among the best show-closing numbers ever.

6. Johnny Greenwood is still Radiohead’s MVP. The guy rocks out on guitar, keys, and random radio transmissions, a cool little trick that’s become a Radiohead concert staple. He snatched a particularly cool snippet of dialogue that ended "The National Anthem" with “Rancho Cucamonga can you hear me?” echoing into the night. Awesome.

7. Guitarist Ed O’Brien is the band’s new secret weapon (that title used to belong to Johnny Greenwood, but everyone is now well aware of his brilliance). Not only does O’Brien play a mean guitar and sings like a bird, but the dude is also suave enough to play James Bond if he ever felt like it. Someone needs to get Ed in GQ mag, stat.

8. These guys can all really play. Colin Greenwood is one of the most underrated bass players in the business, and rhythm section created by him and Phil Selway is unstoppable, solid enough that the rest of the band can go as “out” as they want to, knowing that it’s all securely anchored by the dynamic duo. Thom Yorke more than holds his own on guitar and keys, too.

9. Stoners love Radiohead even more than celebrities. I’ve long argued that Radiohead belongs in the classic rock pantheon alongside the likes of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Given the preponderance of marijuana smoke wafting from all corners of the Bowl, it would seem that the classic rock drug of choice has chosen them as well. When a couple of women were remarking on the amount of weed in the building, one of the ushers leaned over and said, “but if it ain’t that OG Kush, I don’t even want to hear about it.” There were some equally passionate arguments made for ‘Sour Diesel,’ too. The dispensaries must be working overtime today.

I could go on, but there’s the second show to deal with this evening, so I’ll spare you until tomorrow. In the meantime, for the 17,000 or so others prepping for tonight’s awesomeness, see you there…

—Scott T. Sterling

(all photos by Andrea N.)

"How many miles are in a 10k? I mean, how screwed am I?"

A quick consult to Google and my panic subsides: 6.2 miles. I can do that. In fact, I may have just walked that at Sunset Junction—in heels, with the throbbing remainder of a mid-day Chardonnay buzz.

I've had August 31 and the Nike Plus Human Race noted on my Dayplanner for months, but in true Wardly fashion I have procrastinated on the training aspect. I honestly do not know the whereabouts of my running shoes. The closet, underneath my Pocahontas Halloween costume? Abandoned in the war zone of my Subaru's trunk?

The Nike Plus Human Race is set to be the largest running event the world has ever seen, with millions of runners panting simultaneously across several continents in 23 cities, and a ridiculous concert happening at each city’s finish line. If you're registered to run in L.A. this Sunday, you'll have 1.5 hours to stagger 6 miles toward the L.A. Coliseum, where sets by Kanye West and Common await you. And in my case, an ambulance and/or a beer.

Registration closed early due to overfilling (sorry peeps), so Nike recommends that you buy one of their fancy geeked-out pedometers and run anywhere you want, uploading your stats to the Nike site afterward to see how you fared amongst the millions. I’m sorry, but unless Kanye is chillin’ in your living room, waiting to serenade you with “Jesus Walks/Runs,” it’s not quite the same.

—Alie Ward 

Ps: To find out how the race is going—or where in the world the Ward is—add me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/wardonthestreet 

Wha happened? Sunset Junction blew through the east side like some earth-scorching hurricane of Red Bull girls, funnel cake and burritos, oh so many burritos…

Musically, Day 1 felt like one big build-up to Broken Social Scene. The brave early birds that braved the punishing sun rays were treated to rousing sets from Castledoor, but it was obvious that a majority of the music heads were waiting for the cooler evening hours before venturing down Sunset.

Broken Social Scene did not disappoint, although the rumors of former member Feist making an appearance were greatly exaggerated. But for your expansive, orchestral pop melees, BSS definitely delivered for the indie nation that packed the Bates stage area.

Day 2 came with even more extreme heat, which coupled with the citywide hangover from the countless after-parties on Saturday night, found even fewer bodies roaming the streets in the earlier hours of Sunday. When local indie pop party boys The Henry Clay People took to the Bates stage right at noon, there were maybe a dozen people in attendance. Still, the band played it like a headlining show at a packed club, with the singer running out into the crowd to big-up his grandmother in the middle of a song. They amassed a nice audience by the time they were joined by notorious L.A. man about town Jeff Miller on guitar for the big finale (lots of choreographed jumping was involved). Other hot (literally) daytime sets came from Vauxhaul Broadcast and Oliver Future.

The big surprise act of the weekend was a reformed Germs, the L.A. punk legends fronted by actor Shane West (that's him rocking the abs in the photo above). The punks were ready as Mohawks and boots were flying throughout their set. The Pat Smear show is as entertaining as ever, and punk’s still not dead, y’all. Yee-ha!

What happened next? Sorry, I was at the Hollywood Bowl being astonished by the genius that is Radiohead with more than 17,000 other lucky souls, including a just-married Ellen DeGeneres and Portia DeRossi, Justin Timberlake (with Jessical Biel in tow), Ryan Phillipe and so many more...

—Scott T. Sterling 

International Talk Like a Pirate Day is just next month, but Jack Sparrow wannabes might not be in a celebrating mood. Rumor on the scene is that K-town's pirate-ish R Bar might close! There were fundraisers earlier this week, which might have done the trick. The man who answered the phone when I called just now said the situation had been "circumvented" for the moment.

It should say, "Don't blow me down" 

Meanwhile, Malibu Inn and Vault 350's former booking dude, Mark Jason, that both venues are for sale following the passing of owner Mitchell Stewart. Let's hope the buyers keep the venues' integrity in tact—and bring Native Wayne back to Malibu on Sunday.

But it's not all sad news in the after-dark world. I just drove by City Sip, located next to Echo Park's firestation on Sunset Boulevard, and it looks like the wine shop/bar/market is gearing up to open. If you love wine, but hate wine snobs, this might very well become your favorite bar. 

—Alexandra Le Tellier