Death Valley Girls * Death Hymn #9 * Strange Lot * The Blunts

March 12, 2017 8:00PM - 11:59PM at The Green Room

BURGER RECS Presents:

Death Valley Girls-
Think of Death Valley Girls as an acid-tripping science experiment that’s been buried alive, and resurrected as a sexually liberated dystopian chain-gang. A cosmic scar, if you will, on the hills of Echo Park, where the experiment began in 2013 by proto-punk Bonnie Bloomgarden and guitarist Larry Schemel — who got lost in the desert, returned to their haunted garage in Echo Park, and pieced together their vision with shopworn images of sexploitation babes, a blood-soaked Iggy Pop, and Bloomgarden’s series of phantasms, the result of spending a year in a mental institution, where she planned her neon-glowing odyssey by listening to Black Sabbath and UFO, reading about alien conspiracy theories, and deriving her band’s moral compass from a line she saw in a movie:

“Everybody’s gotta be in a gang,” from campy sexploitation romp Switchblade Sisters (1975).

Death Hymn #9-
Formed out of the murky Louisiana Swamp, these four denizens of somnambulance and limited brain power were a former backing band to Motown's greats, until abandoned at a routine gas stop in Baton Rouge in August 1965. In an act of brazen post-mortem activity, the band soldiered on, focusing their collective rage and wild abandonment issues into a thrashy, gross, fast, groovy, loud, hurt-feeling-fest of garage and punk rock bravado. After emerging from those garbage laden swamps, the band relocated to Los Angeles in late 2009 to annoy and harass the lazy bourgeois bar going public and teenage backyard house show attendee. Who knows what posthumous ridiculousness will ensue.

Strange Lot-
Strange Lot demonstrates a knack for surf pop baked under the desert sun. The band jitters along on distorted guitar jangles and hopping bass lines. Frontman Dominic Mena sends his voice through an echoing cavern, cracking and hazy like the heat rising from chapped, split earth. It’s the perfect soundtrack for an afternoon by the dried out pool, stretched out on the lounge chair with your button-up flower print shirt open and dangling, cool beer in hand.

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