Tag Archives: Henry Smith

LIVE: La Femme, The Echoplex, Los Angeles, CA

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La Femme // Photo Credit: Henry Smith

By Henry Smith

The “up-and-coming” status of Echo Park has The Echo and The Echoplex to thank.  Between the two busy venues and their next door neighbor, Origami Vinyl, Echo Park has a fresh hub for music.  The larger Echoplex is located directly beneath The Echo and is only accessible through an alley off of Glendale Boulevard.  I had had a few beers and was unaware of this Hogwarts entrance.  Amblingaround the block again and again, I finally saw a man wearing an Echoplex polo.
“Hey, excuse me,” I asked him, “Where is The Echoplex?”
“It’s right here,” he laughed, “You’re here for La Femme?”  I nodded quickly and hustled in.  As soon as I made it through the entrance, I realized what all the hype was about.  The space was decked out to entertain with a sizable stage, a deep floor with two bars, and plenty of standing tables scattered about.  This was the perfect place to present the mysterious, synth-surf Frenchies, La Femme.

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LIVE: Pinback, El Rey Theater, Los Angeles, CA

By Henry Smith

We were running late. We had just flown off of Beverly Boulevard and onto Highland Avenue. Reasonably zipping through yellow lights, our chance to arrive early to the Pinback show had been blown. This was going to be a special show considering 2014 marks the ten year anniversary of the band’s third record, Summer in Abaddon. To celebrate the album’s decade of life, Pinback hit the road playing the whole thing front to back. This was the second to last show before the band closed the tour in their hometown of San Diego. Finally locating a bare stretch of curb on South Burnside Avenue, my roommates and I bickered over whether we had just found a valid parking spot as the clock struck 9:05 PM – five minutes into Tera Melos’ supporting set at the El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles.

“If I get a ticket, we split it, alright?” My roommate, Andrew, needed a little security before leaving his Beamer parked where it was. The “NO PARKING” signs were left indecipherable, like most are in West LA. After a couple seconds of sheepish silence, my other roommate, Lucas and I begrudgingly agreed that we would share the burden. We left the BMW to its own devices and hustled over to the El Rey’s main entrance on Wilshire Boulevard.

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