Bands that were locally enormous and nationally invisible leave behind a very particular kind of loyalty, and Southern California is full of it — people in their forties who can still recite records that never sold outside a two-county radius. This bill gathers that energy: a reunion of one of those bands plus two current acts working the same seam of loud, fast, unfussy rock. Nights like this function as reunions in both directions, for the people on stage and the people watching. The San Diego bar on El Cajon Boulevard is a long narrow room where the stage is barely raised and the sound is genuinely loud. Music at 8:00 PM, doors at seven, twenty-one and over on a Friday. A local scene that never quite got recorded properly survives entirely in rooms like this one, and everybody in it knows that is what the night is for.
Bands that were locally enormous and nationally invisible leave behind a very particular kind of loyalty, and Southern California is full of it — people in their forties who can still recite records that never sold outside a two-county radius. This bill gathers that energy: a reunion of one of those bands plus two current acts working the same seam of loud, fast, unfussy rock. Nights like this function as reunions in both directions, for the people on stage and the people watching. The San Diego bar on El Cajon Boulevard is a long narrow room where the stage is barely raised and the sound is genuinely loud. Music at 8:00 PM, doors at seven, twenty-one and over on a Friday. A local scene that never quite got recorded properly survives entirely in rooms like this one, and everybody in it knows that is what the night is for.
Bands that were locally enormous and nationally invisible leave behind a very particular kind of loyalty, and Southern California is full of it — people in their forties who can still recite records that never sold outside a two-county radius. This bill gathers that energy: a reunion of one of those bands plus two current acts working the same seam of loud, fast, unfussy rock. Nights like this function as reunions in both directions, for the people on stage and the people watching. The San Diego bar on El Cajon Boulevard is a long narrow room where the stage is barely raised and the sound is genuinely loud. Music at 8:00 PM, doors at seven, twenty-one and over on a Friday. A local scene that never quite got recorded properly survives entirely in rooms like this one, and everybody in it knows that is what the night is for.