Fri. Jul 29


Hot Queer Action


Sat. Jul 30




Mon. Aug 1

GGNZLA Karaoke


Tue. Aug 2


Charms, Prissy Whip


Wed. Aug 3

Low Hums

Tele Novella, Mr. Night Sky


Thu. Aug 4

Castle Dwellers

Battle Hooch, Something In The Trees, Origami Ghosts


Fri. Aug 5

Candi Pop


Sat. Aug 6




Sun. Aug 7

Shiver Twins

Wild English, Antonioni, Blyss

For most, a brush with death would be cause for retreat, reflection,
and reluctance, but Seattle band La Luz found something different in
it: resilience. Having survived a high-speed highway collision shortly
after releasing their 2013 debut LP It’s Alive, La Luz, despite
lasting trauma, returned to touring with a frequency and tirelessness
that put their peers to shame. Over the past year-and-a-half of
performing, the band arrived at a greater awareness of their music’s
ability to whip eager crowds into a frenzy. In response, frontwoman
Shana Cleveland’s guitar solos took on a more unhinged quality. The
basslines (from newly-installed member Lena Simon) became more lithe
and elastic. Stage-dives and crowd-surfing grew to be as indelible a
part of the La Luz live experience as their onstage doo-wop-indebted
dance moves.

When it came time to record Weirdo Shrine, their second album—due out
August 7th—the goal was to capture the band’s restless  live energy
and commit it to tape. In early 2015, Cleveland and Co. adjourned to a
surf shop in San Dimas, California where, with the help of
producer/engineer Ty Segall, they realized this vision. Tracking most
of the album live in shared quarters, La Luz chose to leave in any
happy accidents and spur-of-the-moment flourishes that occurred while
recording. Cleveland’s newly fuzzed-up guitar solos—which now
incorporated the influence of Japanese Eleki players in addition to
the twang of American surf and country—were juxtaposed against the
group’s most angelic four-part harmonies to date. The organs of Alice
Sandahl and the drumming of Marian Li Pino were granted extra heft and
dimension. Thematically, Cleveland channeled Washingtonian poet
Richard Brautigan on “You Disappear” and “Oranges,” and sought
inspiration from Charles Burns’ Seattle-set graphic novel Black Hole.

The resulting album is a natural evolution of the band’s self-styled
“surf noir” sound—a rawer, turbo-charged sequel that charts themes of
loneliness, infatuation, obsession and death across eleven tracks,
from the opening credits siren song of “Sleep Till They Die” to the
widescreen, receding-skyline send-off of “Oranges” and its bittersweet
epilogue, “True Love Knows.”

In describing Weirdo Shrine, Segall remarked that it gave him a vision
of a “world…burning with colors [he’d] never seen, like mauve that is
living.” In “Oranges,” the Brautigan poem which inspired the
aforementioned track of the same name, the poet writes of a surreal
“orange wind / that glows from your footsteps.” These hue-based
allusions are apt: the sound of La Luz is (appropriately) vibrant, and
alive with a kaleidoscopic passion. Weirdo Shrine finds them at their
most saturated and cinematic.