Everyday on my way home from the gallery I catch the re-broadcast of Jonesy Jutebox on Indie 103.1. Usually I don’t listen unless Jones is talking as he is one interesting fella to me (must be that accent) because the hippy dippy crap he often plays doesn’t appeal to me and, I’ll admit, I do like Tom Leykis. But yesterday, yesterday was beyond awesome – the freakin’ Buzzcocks were live in the studio! I mean, on what universe can I be driving home listening to three live songs played by the Buzzcocks in-between The Damned? It’s heaven, aka Los Angeles!
It’s funny because growing up on the east coast I, and others I know, loved punk rock that came out of the west coast. After moving here some of those bands, like Bad Religion, kind of disappoint while others, like anything Mike Watt, are better than I ever imagined. Like listening to the Buzzcocks today (yes, I know they’re from England), I was similarly dumb-founded by Los Angeles when I saw Watt, Kim Gordon, and Thurston Moore at a gallery opening eariler this year or when I had members of Black Flag and Fugazi at my own gallery last year. I mean, if you would have told me that when I was fifteen I would have never believed you. And for some reason these bands, these experiences, occur often in Los Angeles. I mean, how lucky can we get?