A quick one before I head to an undisclosed locale that involves absinthe appetizers, scantily clad women, and Cypress Hill.  I should probably watch Nosaj Thing and Daddy Kev crush the Roxy tonight, but I’m clearly striving to embody the spirit of the Los Angeles D-bag. Although, to paraphrase Jay, I could be a fedora […]

This is usually the part of the post where I unleash a litany of bad jokes involving the inanity of an artist’s name.  But I can’t do that with The Gaslamp Killer, because he wields one of the most righteous monikers in music. The Gaslamp Killer–the name conjures shadowy Victorian cities, cobblestone streets, and sharp […]