Birthday Weekend
by Armando Ortiz
My extended
birthday weekend began a few days before Spring Break, soon after completing my last final
at Cal State L.A. Once that was done my brain shut down and all I wanted to do was relax. A day
before my actual birthday began, and during the self induced brain coma of not learning theories and ways of
teaching, and with a somewhat rested body that had had two days of longer sleep and
endless hours of downloading music, a pre-celebration took place. The day before the big birthday a friend,
Tom, would be performing at the Hard Rock Café in Hollywood with Rivet,
a local hard rock band, with whom he plays bass.
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| My friend Tom on the bass. |
I arrived
early to find a spot to sit, but inside the place was packed with people of all
kinds eating burgers and other greasy foods. The shatter and murmur of the people was a mixture of English and other languages that I did not have the time to decipher There was a pit where most of the
family tables were located and where the majority of people sat and that's where I stood for a while searching for my friends. I began
texting Tom but there was no reply, so I kept walking around the venue until I found his wife, Semmy, at
a distance. I approached, announcing my presence and she took me to the green
room where Tom and the band were getting ready and chatting
it up with the other bands that were competing in the Battle of the Bands, which included Lookin' For Trouble, Take 48 and Kid Gramophone.
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| Rivet |
After a
few minutes of being introduced to the other members I ordered a Hard Rock burger, a Cesar salad and a glass
of water. It might have been one of the best burgers I’ve had in a while,
though it wasn’t able to replace the tasty Tommy’s Burgers' sloppy tastiness In the middle of the meal Rivet went on stage and began blasting away with their
hard sonic rock sounds. Their style resembles a slower version of Queen’s of the Stone
Age with a bit of an edge to the lyrics. I left the burger half way and went out
to the pit where a mass of people was gathering and swaying to the live music. As everyone
stood watching them perform energy began to fill the entire room, these guys were in the pocket and were getting the crowd into their music. Their set ended and everyone cheered them on applauding the four song performance. Returning to the green room greetings and congratulations, along with handshakes were given and the burger that was left on the table was finally finished. All there was left were specks of fries and smears of ketchup. I'd requested to go in late to work that night, and once all formalities were done I took La Brea Ave south to LAX. The drive was about thirty minutes, and from the hilly slopes of Hollywood one could see the grey fog at a distance, but once driving past Jefferson and driving through the oil fields that divide Los Angeles from Inglewood, the watery clouds were beginning to settle. This is one of the few spots in LA that while driving makes you wonder how it must have been driving these areas fifty years ago, when there was more nature and less people. The incandescent street lights gave a light orange glow that perfectly blended into the natural and man-made Los Angeles landscape. The drive to work was smooth and easy matching well with the music that was coming out of the speakers of the car- Lil Keke's Addicted 2 Fame.
The next day was the birthday celebration which was a bit
subdued due to extenuating circumstances that made me want to relax more than
go out and party. After completing a tutoring session with my student at the Chinatown Service Center a bee line to the LA Bakery was made, where I bought a delicious chocolate
mousse cake. I was going to go home to eat cake with coffee, and relax, maybe watch a netflix film. Nonetheless,
after relentless calls and questioning from a friend I decided to go check
out a local band called Buyepongo.
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| Honduras Kitchen flyer: Punta Cartel |
I took the 10 Freeway east, and exited Alameda, making a turn at the stop light and then drove to the place, but missed my
destination by a few blocks. Driving around the mean streets of South Central was a reality that had to be lived out at that very moment. I finally got to the venue, Honduras Kitchen, at
around ten thirty in the evening, which is located on Santa Fe and Slauson. It
was my first time there and the parking space in the locale was packed, so the
security guard suggested parking the car across the street from where the place
was. I contacted my friends, who were inside their car, too scared to go out
and blend with the environment. Entrance was simple with a cover charge of ten dollars. Once inside we were told to go to the table that was nearest to the
band that was performing at that moment, Cumbia Cartel, who is made up of
musicians that are from different parts of the Caribbean and Central America.
The performance they put down was good, and one of the guys even had a set of
instruments made of turtle shells. Their combination of West African beats with
their mixture of accordion like synthesizer at times made for a very enjoyable rhythmic ride. I was transported to a beach, where I drank cold coronas,
enjoying the punta/cumbia beats that were emanating from the instruments of
those unknown musicians.
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| Buyepongo |
Once
their set was done DJ Subsuelo began his hour long set, which started out good,
but ended up turning into an odd mix of cumbia and house, which was made a bit
hectic with the house sound systems which was out of whack. Finally, Buyepongo
began their set. They do not need all that sound system stuff to get their
groove on because once they start playing the dancing begins and things get off
fast with people beginning to move to their groove. The venue was ideal for a band like theirs because the need to connect a lot of electrical and sound devices is not necessary. What especially stands out from this particular band is how well they sound as a whole unit, and the fact that they play a variety of instruments makes them one of the more versatile and original bands in the Los Angeles area. They have soul, grove, estilo, and some firme sounds that will make anyone get up and dance. My good friend Ismael, though,
who is more of an observer and an analyzer of people decided to stay in his
seat, next to his wife. I went up to the dance floor and asked a lady to dance, who moved like a snake, and swaying like a Heron. She would quicken her pace with her youthfulness, and moved as if her feet were touching fire, with a seasoning of ritualistic fire dancing, I was humbled but was too excited to care because I was in the pocket. There is a sense of satisfaction that comes when
thinking of the choice that was made for that day because Buye always puts on
bad ass shows, and the fact that beautiful women show up and are down to dancing
with anyone is one big incentive to show up and shake one’s skeleton.
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| House Lounge flyer featuring all the bands. |
Saturday evening had me at the edge of Maywood. To
continue my celebration and for entertainment purposes my friends invited me to
dance some Spanish rock at the House Lounge, which changes their name to El
Ritual on Saturdays. To my amazement there was a huge Ska concert in the back
of the venue, which everyone that entered the club had access too. The bands
there were getting down and a giant mosh pit had been made by a giant human
circle that moved clockwise. The scene was a bit intimidating, seeing people in
their twenties with beer bottles, and Pendleton shirts buttoned up while others
wore wife beater shirts made you think twice of where you stepped, but I walked
around and found a sweet spot where I could watch the show without being
bothered by some crazy mosher that might suddenly push you. I climbed on a
platform that was beside a wall and from there watched The South Central Skankers,
Matamoska, and Roncovacoco put on a show that was a mixture of punk and
symphonic banda trumpeteering that included about two saxophones and one
trombone. I went back inside and bought a beer and there found my friend
swaying to music from Heroes Del Silencio. Though the mosh pit was big and lots
of people would join the pushing and the bumping nothing serious happened. I ended my night by driving west on Washington Blvd to where I live.
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| Good Micheladas |
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| Flyer for the nigh's event. |
My weekend ended with meeting up with a good friend at
Eastside Luv located in Boyle Heights where there was yet another live
performance, but this time it was a lady’s show with women that were not only
beautiful but very talented. There was a lady whose name I never got who was
busting out some amazing mariachi songs, and was being backed up by a female band
that played the fiddle, the guitar and a guitar bass. Eastside Luv has
one of the best micheladas that I have had anywhere in Los Angeles. The show,
which was a 5 dollar cover charge, was really good and made the drive east well
worth it. I even got to see Marisoul who makes up part of the La Santa Cecilia,
a very talented band that has been touring the southwest for a good minute. My birthday weekend ended, and I had to finally wake up from the brain haze and readjust to the new quarter and picking up from where I left off.
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| Me |
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