Tag: Beach House

The Gaslamp Killer earned his nickname by ruining the vibe of clubs in San Diego’s Gaslamp district with his incongruous DJ sets, so we must conclude those clubs were lame.

Go ahead and call your band Great Grandpa. You better have something pretty weird up your sleeve.

Shrugging through the rose thorns, protected by a heavy leather apron, the blacksmith adjusted the thick gloves, proof against stray hammers and cinders but well-worn enough to allow the gentlest of movements. A stem was carefully pincered and brought in view of the entomologist’s face, who scanned it for aphids. Across Sarmiento Park, a teen herd’s boombox gave voice to an excited Córdoban DJ, announcing the latest from the latin bhangra scene. A traffic cop was nosing around their parked Alfa Romeo, assuming it was just another family sedan that forgot to feed the meter.

After a long absence, the RockaTeens return with their trademark sonic assault, but with the reverb turned down a bit. They kick off this week's show with "Turn and Smile".

I really love Khruangbin, despite the pronounciation quandary they plunge me into whenever I play one of their songs.

Washes of sound surround you as half-heard vocals intertwine with half-remembered melodies.

Beach House's music always rings as the soundtrack to some brain-warped too-much-party film montage. WIth "Drunk In LA", their song titles are catching up with the vibe.

Dreamgaze shoepop from this Seattle foursome that takes harmonies and production very seriously.