Show: The Sunset Strip Music Festival 2012
Date: August 16-18, 2012
Venue: The Sunset Strip
City: West Hollywood, CA
The Sunset Strip Music Festival 2012
Photos by Nicolas Bates
Written by Dan Sinclair
The Sunset Strip is home to some of the most legendary rock and roll venues in American history—such as the Viper Room, Whisky-a-Go-Go, The Roxy—and once a year the city of West Hollywood shuts down the street in front of these classic rock locations and creates one epic music festival. This year was no exception, with three stages outside and all the clubs featuring live shows all day and night. There was more than enough music for all ears in attendance.
It was an extremely warm Saturday, but there were spots to grab shade, and some vendors were even kind enough to provide free drinks (thank you, Whole Foods, as I helped myself to at least four free lemonades outside your food truck). The festival organization at times was a bit suspect as not a single band was able to start on time at Stage West due to the SSMF staff’s inability to get things set up quick enough, but the good thing is that once the bands got on, they all kicked enough ass to keep the sunburned, sweaty fans from lingering on how long they waited for each set to start.
Bad Religion has been doing this punk rock thing for a long time, but show no signs of slowing down any time soon. And if you don’t know how to get the most out of a Bad Religion show, follow this little bit of advice: keep your eyes on lead singer Greg Graffin. Sure, the man has aged and looks more like a guy who sells real estate and coaches his kids’ baseball teams on the weekends than a longtime frontman for a politically charged, punk rock band, but he still knows how to entertain. You see, the other members have aged and don’t do much but play their instruments and sing along, but Greg continues to make some of the funniest and ironic gestures as he belts out lyrics about religion, government and the fate of the human race. Some of his best expressions include: “Hey, buddy, we’re friends,” “You’re in trouble, young lady,” “Who me?” “Fuck you (with a smile)” and “Are you sure, dude, that doesn’t seem right to me.”
Most likely because of the location, they start off with “Los Angeles is Burning,” before doing “Social Suicide” and the memorable single “21st Century Digital Boy.” Somewhere along the lines, longtime (though sometimes off and on) guitar man Mr. Brett falls down and Graffin pretends to stomp on him, not missing a beat as he continues to sing every lyric in time. Even non-fans of the ultra-catchy, heavily guitar-driven punk rock beauty of Bad Religion, couldn’t help but have a good time at the show as the band interacts with the crowd more than any other act throughout the day.
Graffin messes up the order of “M” and “F” in SSMF but recovers with, “Oh, it’s SSMF? SS, mother fucker! Oh wait, that sounds horrible.” He also states that he’s “dating himself” by remembering The Key Club as Gazzari’s, to which Mr. Brett replies, “I date myself every night.” Graffin begs us to wave to our friends in the helicopters spying on us from above. Mr. Brett claims that sunglasses being passed around are his and would like them returned to the stage immediately. The crowd obliges and he dons the glasses before a shoe gets flung near his head. He catches it with his left hand while still strumming his guitar with his right. The crowd loves it and he tosses the shoe back and finishes the song.
Much of the crowd sings along with the songs they love, such as “You Are (the Government),” “Recipe for Hate,” “We’re Only Going to Die,” “A Walk,” “New Dark Ages,” “Generator” and “Sorrow,” but the best songs of the night come near the end. The crowd erupts and everyone is moving for “American Jesus” and “Fuck Armageddon.” Griffin tells everyone they are going to do one more and then head to Pasadena to finish the new album. They close on “Infected” and it’s their best song of the night. They give the crowd more than they could possibly ask for by packing 23 full songs into their short set and no one seems the least bit disappointed. Bring on the new album!
If there were any doubts that the main draw of a Black Label Society show wasn’t Ozzy Osborne’s long-time lead guitar man Zakk Wylde, those doubts were mercilessly smashed with a sledge hammer as the giant beast of a man took front stage shredding his black and white X-shaped guitar and donning a giant Native-American headdress to the opening song “Crazy Horse.” Not only is Zakk the main focus of this show, he knows it and he wants you to know it, too. One could only notice the skulls that hung from his microphone. He stepped up on the amps and posed like a god periodically throughout every song. He fist pumped while he continued to play, expecting clapping from the crowd, and if they didn’t get loud enough, he would shout out things along the lines of, “Let’s go, motherfuckers!” He even took a good 10-15 minutes of the set to shred a solo, doing half of it on the right side of the stage and the other half on the left to make sure each and every fan was able to witness the awesomeness that is Zakk Wylde… well, going wild.
The rest of the band enjoyed Zakk’s enthusiasm too, each wearing his own version of the same combo of sleeveless jean jacket with the band’s name on the back (with ridiculous amounts of chains) and black jeans—except drummer Chad Szeliga, who chose to remain topless for entire set. They moved around the stage and interacted with the crowd as they played “Funeral Bell” and “Bleed for Me” before a small mosh pit broke out for “Demise of Sanity.” I had a hard time taking my eye off the slam dancing as an impressive girl—who couldn’t have been over five feet tall or weighed more than 100 lb.—wore a mouth guard and banged pretty hardcore with the big boys. She meant fucking business and I think it scared the shit out of even some of the toughest, tattooed and/or pierced metal dudes in there.
The real highlight came on the very last song of the set when the Doors’ guitarist Robby Kriegar appeared for a cover of “Roadhouse Blues.” The 66-year-old, bright-white-haired, beanpole-skinny rock legend wasted little time really getting into the song and hopped up on the closest amp. Bassist John DeServio took over vocal responsibilities as Mr. Wylde took great joy in playing up close and personal with Kriegar as If their two guitars made love in front of us all. It was quite the collaboration and I’m sure at least one of the crowd’s balding dudes with long, gray hair dressed in black made a mess in his pants—if not one, then all did.
With apologies to bassist Chris Null and drummer Sean Friday, Los Angeles’s own Dead Sara is all about the ladies. Those ladies which I speak of are none other than the two women that started the band: Emily Armstrong and Siouxsie Medley. And it’s not just because both are hot-ass chick rockers (even though they are), it’s because Medley plays a mean lead guitar and Armstrong has more energy and stage presence than any other frontman in the biz.
Emily starts things off slow and sings over Siouxsie’s soft guitar: “This song is not for you, it’s for everything I wish to be.” “Sorry for It All” is a good a place as any to start to show off the range of these two wonderfully talented women. And before long, the softness hardens and Emily’s belting out the “oh-oh-oh’s,” Siouxsie’s rocking her axe and the crowd is moving back and forth in approval.
They don’t slow down as Emily belts out the vocals, dances and headbangs all over the stage during parts of “Test of My Patience” and “Lemon Scent,” with her loudest and wildest scream coming on “Blue Was the Feeling for You.” And even though Siouxsie’s guitar didn’t behave properly (as it refused to stay tuned at times), she never got overwhelmed and took care of it with ease any time it acted up, never letting the audience know she was having any trouble at all. One fan even yelled out that he loved the petite-but-striking guitar goddess and she responded with a smile and an, “I love you too.” That lucky bastard…
They finished the set with their beautifully-crafted single “Weatherman,” during which Armstrong climbed atop the tallest of stacked amplifiers on the stage and stood high above her band on stage. She yelled out a powerful, “Los Angeles!” and kicked her legs in the air before she came plummeting back down to earth. She arose completely unscathed and continued to rock. Needless to say, the crowd went nuts. She rewarded the loyal fans by finishing the show up close and personal in the media pit.
Though their set was only five songs and the shortest of the day for the bands on SSMF’s west stage, it was surely one of the most memorable and, by far, the one with the most energy.
And please know this, rock stars everywhere: no matter how cool you think you are, Emily and Siouxsie are more bad-ass than you.
The Offspring’s frontman, Dexter Holland, took stage with no more than some spiky bleach-blond hair and a “Hi” before picking up his guitar and yelling, “Yah, Yah, Yah, Yah, Yah!” into the microphone. It was all the sea of a crowd—who had doubled, maybe even tripled in size at this point—needed, as they sang along to “All I Want.”
Everyone seemed ready to burst, but not many seemed sure how to at that particular moment. Many of the fans that had just arrived hadn’t been there for much of the day, nor did they appear as if they attend concerts regularly. They seem cautious, afraid to express how much they love catchy punk rock by dancing. That all changes as soon as The Offspring kick into “Come Out and Play.” And while I wish someone could have kept them separated, there is no use – the mosh pit is huge and getting bigger and even the little guys too afraid to get in the pit are having no problem jumping around and singing along, not caring even for a second who they are bumping into or knocking down in the process.
The Offspring try out a few of their new songs including “Days Go By,” “Dividing by Zero” and “Slim Pickens Does the Right Thing and Rides the Bomb to Hell,” but none seem to have the same impact as the first two songs and it isn’t until they play “Bad Habit” that the crowd goes insane again. They go so insane… that… this… writer… can’t….
Sorry, I had to move to a spot where I could reach my notepad and not have to fight off assholes. Back to “Bad Habit”: Dexter asks us if we’re going to sing along to the part that we all loved to scream out as teenagers and, of course, we do. “Drivers are rude/Such attitude/When I show my piece/Complaints cease/Something’s odd/Feel like I’m God/You stupid, dumb shit, goddamn motherfucker!”
The crowd loves it and sings along to every single song they play from the great “Gotta Get Away,” “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid,” “Want You Bad,” “The Kids Aren’t All Right” and the closer “Self Esteem” to the awful and annoying “Pretty Fly (for a White Guy),” “Hit That” and “Why Don’t You Get a Job?” But even the crap songs sound great as the music is loud and the ‘90s punk rockers are precise. The SSMF crowd eats up every second of it, even begging for more at the end of the 19-song set, but that’s all they get because we still have one more band to go!
The sun had already set at the Sunset Music Festival, and with the sky now pitch black and matching the black curtain hanging over the stage, the thousands and thousands now in attendance are ready for this year’s headlining act: the controversial, yet always entertaining Marilyn Manson. A couple of drunk frat boys even try to start a “Mar-i-lyn” chant, but it doesn’t catch on. But before the crowd can get too impatient, the sounds of bells and a creepy voice singing, “La la la,” can be heard and shadows can be seen walking the stage. Then there’s bass, then some drums. The curtain drops but nothing can be seen as the fog machine has gone wild and only a giant cloud of smoke is visible. The music is loud and Marilyn starts singing the lyrics for “Hey, Cruel World…” and all are entertained.
When we are able to see again, we can make out that Marilyn is dressed in a full-black leather suit—but quickly loses the jacket to reveal a sleeveless vest. Who can blame him? The sun has gone down but it’s still hot as shit here on the strip. Marilyn informs us all that Los Angeles is a place he now calls home because he’s “a wanted sex offender in most other states.” And he also lets us know that, “Just because the charges were dropped, doesn’t mean I didn’t do it, motherfuckers.”
During “Disposable Teens,” Marilyn flexes his right arm every time he screams, but what’s more memorable to me is the fact that the “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah” is prerecorded and not sung live by anyone on stage. He sprays the crowd with his very own fog machine (or something like that) during “The Love Song,” much to the crowd’s delight.
He announces that the next song is off their new record but, “I’m not trying to promote it or anything. In fact, I don’t want you to buy our new record. I want you to steal it and blame it on someone else…this song is called “No Reflection” because I have none.” During this song, Marilyn uses a microphone connected to a large blade. He stabs himself with it and balances it on his arm, before tossing it into the crowd. Before going into “The Dope Show,” Marilyn warns all: “Don’t do drugs. I’m serious, kids, don’t do drugs.” But then he makes it more clear by saying, “Don’t do my drugs.”
Though there are plenty of true Marilyn Manson fans at the performance, the majority of the crowd is not familiar with most of his work, with their heaviest enthusiasm coming during his famous covers of Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” and The Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These).” But none of this affects the performance. Marilyn and the boys deliver with a full set full of loud music, high-tech special effects and a great sampling of the singer’s unique singing style and sense of humor and no one can complain.
And just when the crowd thinks they’ve seen it all, Marilyn is joined by The Doors’ Robby Kriegar and Ray Manzarek—quite a way to end an amazing day of live music on the street where many of the biggest rock acts got their start.