Man Man

“Saturday night at the Echoplex. Twenty years of trash-can drums…”

A rock band that is also a circus, a seance and a sea shanty, and refuses to pick one, should not work. Honus Honus has spent two decades demonstrating otherwise.

Drums assembled out of trash cans. Gang vocals about heartbreak, bellowed by people in costumes nobody requested and everybody is glad about. The Echoplex is the correct room for this: down the alley entrance off Glendale, below the Echo, capacity in the hundreds, sweat coming off the ceiling by the third song. They are out behind a new record most of the world has not heard yet, and the catalog faithful are the entire room, which means the new songs get received rather than tolerated.

Echo Park on a Saturday night, doors early, an opener first, cheap at the door.

Bring the friend who is always down for the weird thing. You owe them one, and this settles it.