Los Angeles, Be Kind

Scott Hutchison lives in LA now. Did you know that? Why does this feel so important? Maybe because I actually think he's the wittiest person alive. Or because, like me, he feels in a kind of limbo between isolated, overcast coastlines and sunny hills. Somewhere between Hollywood and Hollyrood. 

His new project, Owl John-- which he says he hopes will appeal to people "who hate Frightened Rabbit"-- is my favorite album of the year. Of course, I don't hate FR. I would love any project of Scott's.

The last month or so has been testing the seams of the life I've sewn together here. They were always loose stitches and I wasn't sure the center would hold a few of those days. I have asked Los Angeles to be kind. And the world in general. I've felt sad about a lot, in a way I haven't done in a while. As you may have noticed, I haven't been writing much.

Luckily for me (and for you) Scott has been writing for me. 

Get Owl John. It's out now.

PS- Scott, now that you're here, let's be friends. For realz.

Such a villainous grace
Oh I don't know what you've done to your face
Some nights I can't figure out quite where your heart is

Oh Los Angeles, be kind
No more trouble or red lights
I can learn to love you in good time
Oh Los Angeles, be kind

Lattes With Latte

On Saturday, McC and I did what seemed only right to do: We took the best Latte in America to get "The Best Latte in America." (according to the New York Times.)

It was a glorious day in Larchmont Village-- even though much of Hollywood was blocked off due to a parade, a high school graduation, palm tree pruning, and perhaps the Daytime Emmy's preshow. It was unclear. But when we finally made it to the adorable strand of shops, Latte was out in full force, making friends with every man, woman and child and cute-ing up the place royally.

He met his shaved pom twin, and like all doppelgangers, it was full hate coming from both sides (but mostly the other guy, because, let's face it, Latte is pretty secure in his cuteness.)

We decided we would have this almond-macadamia nut milk iced-latte no matter how much it cost. And we took bets on just how much we were going to throw down. When we walked in, my eye immediately went to a $13 beverage. "Thirteen dollars," I said out loud to McC. "That's gotta be it. I bet you that's it." 

Luckily, that was a 5 shot extravaganza and the latte we desired only ran us six bucks each. 

Of course, the drinks came in ball jars. And various other products ranged in price from expensive to very expensive, including a small ceramic tumbler that said go get em tiger and cost $43.

Okay, but was it the best latte in America, you want to know? I don't know because, while I have had many lattes in both America and abroad, I haven't had them all. But I'd say it was worth six bucks. And Latte thought so too. The first thing he did was try to steal a sip of McC's.

go get em tiger
230 N. Larchmont Blvd.

Bring Me Your Mugs Friday Links

The word Mugs will always make me think of one of my childhood best friends, Margaret "Mugs" Gillespie. I gave her that nickname. Not 100% sure why, but it really seemed to suit her, and she is still often called that today. It's a great nickname, which is a great art. Enough tangential thinking though. I bring up Mugs because in a great coup of psychological marketing (at least for people like me) Intelligentsia has thought to give St Vincent her own coffee.

It's 22 dollars.  I definitely still bought it. (Jesus Saves. I Spend.) It's delicious and bright... (Orange marmalade, brown sugar, lime zest....) because Annie Clark is a goddess who is incapable of making a misstep. The title is a reference to her song "Bring Me Your Loves." Which I and the good people of Intelligentsia clearly do.

They also sell her album on vinyl there. If I didn't already own the record (on vinyl) I'd have bought that too.

More with the links though! And happy Friday!

- Speaking of coffee, apparently the best latte in America is in my neighborhood. I shall report back.

- Andrew Keenan-Bolger as a hobo clown. How are you so wonderful always? Also, how are you 29 already, sweet pal?

- People who don't want to be right (factually.) Boy am I NOT one of these people.

- Fox Cancels "I Wanna Marry Harry." Maybe there is hope for America.

- Guys, donate to Reading Rainbow. Because books are good and I don't want us to be so stupid.

- Portugal. Yum.

- This isn't what I'd do with 36 hours in Edinburgh, but I support any activities there.

- The honey moon and Friday the 13th.

In Cold Blood - Be My Friend, Morgan Kibby

Morgan Kibby makes me want to dye my hair dark and stop wearing a bra. Let my curves out or down, whichever way they want to go. Be freckled. Be soft. Be diaphanous. Keep my sailor's tongue. Live Morgan Kibby (or White Sea, as the show is actually billed) was one of the most genuinely surprising, thrilling evenings of music a jaded artist (or anyone else for that matter) could have. 

She was the anchor in an evening I call the best accidental free concert ever.  

You see, the lovely Miss Vinessa Shaw and I are big fans of Moses Sumney (more on that later). He was having a month-long residency of free concerts and Vinny and I had been trying to organize a time to go. Then, after 24 hours of driving down the coast of California with the mega-duo of Brian Kearney and Gretchen Schrafft (more on Big Sur and an Irishman's first dip in the Pacific soon) I felt like 1. I need to MOVE-- sway in a room with strangers and have nothing to do with my clutch or my car-- even with wide open spaces, with the idea of the Ocean. (Whoops! White Sea!) and 2. I'd love something free to do with my fellow poor-artist friends.

Thus, we all ended up at the "Moses Sumney Concert," where White Sea was his guest. And it was the best concert I've ever been to. 

I'm not really sure I've ever seen a more exhilarating live performer than Morgan Kibby. It has all the drama and height of a Florence + The Machine Show, but with way more prowess, vocal precision and scale emanating from a much smaller operation. 

But then, this isn't Morgan Kibby's first rodeo. She formerly front LA Band, The Romanovs (good name, ya'll!) IMO is the element that makes M83 the shit. She fucking wrote Midnight City. If I wrote that song, I'd retire. 

But nope! That's not really an option for Morgan because of that set of pipes. You guys, in the room, that night, we all just looked at each other in awe. I am open to the awe of amazing singers. I am so often so humbled by the voices I get to hear and write for in my line of work. But I am spoiled by those voices and thus rarely floored by someone's ability. 

I've been waiting for White Sea's first full album, In Cold Blood since that night. I wish I could tell you it lives up to the live concert, but it doesn't and in fact, it can't. That's not even the point. But it is wonderful, it is lyrically bold, it is my jam, and you should get it.

In closing, Morgan Kibby, be my friend. If you get a call from Kade's cell phone, it's just me and I've stolen his phone so I can talk to you. Don't freak out. 

White Sea
In Cold Blood
New album out now via Crush Music/SONGS on iTunes for $7.99 or 
listen to it on Spotify

Not my favorite song on the album, but the video is gorge.

You're Not The One

I promise I'm getting to the stories from Ghana. Seriously. But it was an emotionally dense trip. And it didn't help that almost as soon as I returned, I got struck down by some kind of Dengue Fever/ West Nile hybrid plague. (It was perhaps only a common cold, but nevertheless, I was down for the muthaeffin COUNT.) 

In the meantime, I will sadly leave you with this teaser courtesy of Sky Ferreira and good old Mr. Strickland, on whose recommendation it entered my world. 

The Oscars - All Is Lost

Ah, Hollywood on Oscars day. While I think this was a strong year for film, I'm almost boycotting the awards this year. Not boycotting exactly, but watching under duress. And that is because of the lack of this man. My Main Man. Our Man, Mr. Redford. 

I don't think acting is about losing a bunch of weight or pretty people making themselves look ugly or wearing a skirt when you're Jared Leto. I think actions speak louder than words. 

This was an epic snub to the most watchable man alive. That's all I have to say. Good night.

There it is, Take it

Hello. I'm back. I think I'm back for good. We'll see. It's been an interesting time in which I haven't felt like I had much interesting to say. But I'm back. And think I may have things to say in the not so distant future. 

In the meantime, here is some Los Angeles-- (by AM Bushe) a city I love more than I ever expected to-- and a place that's welcomed me in its own weird way like not too much else before. I hope you're having a great Monday and that your holiday weekend was as fantastic as mine. And that you weren't one of the 490 DUIs in LA this weekend... woof. 

There It Is, Take It... from A.M. Bushe on Vimeo.

Haviland's HOT new dance track - MKE Maximum Energy

Friend/Performer/Mover/Shaker-Extraordinaire Haviland Stillwell has been working on a new dance album since I got to LA. I remember listening to some early tracks in her prius my first week here and loving  the super different direction she was going in. I mean, afterall, she's a legit soprano, not to mention the first person to ever sing VOTE! besides yours truly.

Well, this is nothing like musical theatre, but it has drama and theatricality to spare! Not to mention, enlightened ideas and a beat that made me instantly download and add to my hiking/running/cardio onslaught playlist. 

Also, I've heard the concept for the impending video and I cannot wait to see it fully realized. I'm even thinking about lobbying for a cameo. Maybe not. I don't know about my intergalactic dance moves...

Get your very own copy right here on itunes! 

Learn how to place music on itunes at ReverbNation.com

Hav is supported by a whole bunch of other cool people I love too. So let's give them their due for some stellar (see what I did there, intergalactic friends) work on this!

written by Haviland Stillwell

produced by Mike Schlosser

mastered by Sonic House Post

cover design by Heather J. Weiss

photo by Sabrina Bringuier

Bringing Your Pomeranian to a Silver Lake Wine Tasting

Considering just about every hipster, aspiring starlet, and jogger in Los Angeles has a dog  they bring along almost everywhere you go, McC and I didn't think it would be a big deal to bring Latte to this wine tasting/fancy food truck extravaganza at Silver Lake Wine on Monday night. I mean, I brought him to a bar in NoHo on Saturday night and that twink was a hit! 

Much to our dismay, we may have picked the one place it wasn't cool to bring a pooch. wWhile there was outside seating, there was no wine outside and no puppies inside. Latte was still as popular ever with other dogs and humans alike, so at least his feelings weren't hurt and his reputation as the life of the party is still intact.

As a work around, we ate our fancy food truck food (well, some of us had fancy food like brisket and lamb ragoo lasagna 'cupcakes' from Heirloom and others, ie me, had cheap and extremely spicy tacos from the other truck) taking turns watching Latte and then grabbing wine. We sampled two extremely mellow (bordering on boring) wines first-- a rose' and a tempranillo before partaking in an amazing Merlot I meant to get the name of. McC bought a bottle though, so I hope to taste its deliciousness again soon. 

I also cleansed my pallet with a red velvet raspberry cake-let from Cake Monkey. Evening = success. God Bless Silver Lake...where even the fancy food trucks get parking tickets while trying to make a buck.