Ready to hit the dance floor? Tonight is Club Underground x Synthwaves over at Grand Star Jazz Club in Chinatown. It’s two clubs for one cover, with all the indie, Britpop, new wave, etc. on the first floor in the Underground room. Upstairs, in the Synthwaves room, is a mix of darkwave, modern post-punk and synthpop. That’s where you’ll find me, playing Boy Harsher, Molchat Doma, French Police, Sextile and so much more. Tickets are available now on Dice and Eventbrite.  

As for the rest of the weekend and early next week, I have some recommendations, including: 

David Lynch Marathon @ Gardena Cinema -  Saturday, January 24

Sylvia Black, Magic Wands and Blone Noble @ The Monty - Saturday, January 24

Steven Brown (Tuxedomoon) @ Zebulon - Sunday, January 25

Lavender Diamond, Alex Lilly @ 2220 Arts + Archives - Wednesday, January 28

• more clubs, concerts and movie screenings

Or, you could just wander around town and check out a place you haven’t visited in ages. I did that last weekend and came to the somewhat shocking realization that I actually like Santa Monica Pier.

This week’s essay: 

We’re walking back to the Metro station from the Santa Monica Pier and a news broadcast catches my ear. “A patent for AirPods that can read your brainwaves,” the voice says. I’m pretty sure that’s an old story, but it still prompts me to look to the side, where I see a cell phone strapped to a large speaker that’s propped up in a wheelchair. Standing next to the wheelchair is the person who I assume wants us all to know that Big Tech is out to read our minds. I think there’s a manifesto printed on the back of the person’s t-shirt, but I’m too far away to read it. 

Besides, my attention has quickly shifted to the guy dressed in black and sitting on the ground. He’s fiddling with his synthesizer, making bass-heavy, distorted tunes that sound like something I heard in a downtown warehouse in the late ‘00s, which is probably when this musician was watching Yo Gabba Gabba! Nearly overlapping with the noise-maker is a funky trombonist, dressed in pink and playing over a James Brown track. Closer to the station is the insult comic— at least, I think it’s supposed to be comedy— that we heard on our way to the Pier. Across the street from him, someone is singing, but I’m so busy listening to the insults fall flat that I forget to make note of the song. 

Read: How I Learned to Like Santa Monica Pier

This week’s album review: 

Robbie Williams Britpop

The first thing, and maybe only thing, you need to know about Britpop, the newest album from Robbie Williams, is that there is a song on it called “Morrissey” and it is brilliant. It doesn’t sound like a Morrissey song on the surface. But, it’s also not so much about the singer as it is about a parasocial relationship with him. That alone is peak Morrissey. Think of “Paint a Vulgar Picture,” “Last of the Famous International Playboys” and how many other top-tier Moz anthems about the love one feels for someone they don’t actually know. This should have been the lead single, but, the reality is that few people will get it. 

The rest of the album is a solid mix of rock and pop. At times, it is extremely Britpop. “Spies” and “All My Life” sound like they were written after an Oasis reunion concert. “Cocky” has a lot of U.K. Jagger swagger. “It’s OK Until the Drugs Stop Working” lives up to the album’s title, like a Walker Brothers-meets-northern soul-inspired ‘90s Britpop song. I like Williams best when he’s a little meta, like on “Rock DJ” (which, btw, was a big club hit here in L.A. in the early ‘00s) and that’s where Britpop slays. He doesn’t keep up the cheeky, British pop references throughout the album, but there’s enough packed in to make it worthwhile. 

Read more reviews 

That’s it for this week. Hope to see you on the dance floor tonight.

Liz O.