Nerd isn’t the word that pops to mind when you think about Loyal Pennings, the nightclub entrepreneur behind LAX.  So when I learned he invented the "Wickler," a wireless clicker that stores accurate head-counts, not to mention demo information about clubbers, he had me geeking out with him. Here's what he had to say about it….

"Nightclub 101 is you have a clicker at the front door and a clicker at the back door. In 1997, this was a nominal problem … but when I moved up to Hollywood from Hermosa, it became a real big issue. The fire marshal got in my face: ‘What's your clicker count?’  I wrote a letter to myself in 1997, 1998 detailing my intentions; kind of like the poor man's patent. One [idea] was the digital clicker, but that would have been 'The Dickler.' I didn't think that would really go over too well."

Pennings is opening a second club with DJ AM—slated to open "sometime between now and April."  So while I had his ear, I asked him about that, too. 

"Construction is nearing its completion. It's a big space and it's really delicate in respect of how it looks. [Because] it's in between the Kodak and the Chinese Theatre, we [can't] do it wrong. I mean LAX was free standing, so it would be like if you had to figure out your outfit. If you had to figure out your outfit for your wedding that's one thing; then [you have] all your bridesmaids too. You have seven people you have to deal with—and this is a large building with a bunch of different angles—so it's a lot more complicated."

That didn't quite answer my question about what the space will look like, but given that it's a Loyal Pennings' club, it's bound to be a celebrity-magnet. I hope geeks can get in!

—Alexandra Le Tellier

“I am a DJ/I am what I play.” The refrain from David Bowie’s song “DJ” (found on his stellar 1979 “Lodger” album) has been rattling around my head a lot lately. It’s become the unofficial theme of the recent past, as I’ve been meticulously picking records to spin when I get to play DJ during the Metromix launch party at Crash Mansion on Feb. 28. (And yes, I’m one of those increasingly rare luddites that still schleps around funky ol’ vinyl).  But I’m not here to get all teary-eyed and passionate about how technology and Serato has dirtied up the game. A dope DJ is a dope DJ.

At the same time, a lousy DJ is still just lousy. And there certainly are a lot of “DJs” roaming around out there that have no idea what they’re doing, but have a hard drive filled with tracks swiped from sites like Palms Out Sounds and Fluokids, and think they’re just a guest spot at “Check Yo’ Ponytail” away from becoming the next A-Trak. But put any of those characters next to a real DJ, like master craftsman Z-Trip, and witness sonic carnage akin to “Saw 7: Blood Vinyl.” (See Z-Trip regulate at the Fonda on Feb. 29 and March 2.)

I’m beyond thrilled to see my name on a bill with international DJ gigolo Diplo. I’ve been checking for Big ‘Lo since before he blew up with the notorious “Piracy Funds Terrorism Vol. 1” mixtape made with M.I.A. back in 2004. I’ve seen him ignite more parties than I can count. One of the best (and most surreal) times was a night he spun at the old Conga Room on Wilshire with Brazilian DJ Marlboro. Both DJs positively killed it. The crowd of mostly hot young Brazilians partied like it was New Year’s Eve. I encountered a pissy James Iha and a pimping Kevin Federline, who rolled in with his then-producer, homeboy Disco D (R.I.P.). It was one for the ages.

So during yet another run to Amoeba to unearth that “one” record I can’t live without (at least for the time being), Bowie’s chorus to “DJ” continues to haunt my brain. Am I nothing more than a mix of Daft Punk and Nirvana? Jay Dilla and TV on the Radio? Debatable. But if so, I’m cool with it.

—Scott T. Sterling