The warm smell of colitas can go fuck itself


Los Angeles. Frank Black waited there in the pouring sun. Xzibit saw the city burn. Exene Cervenka found it hard to say goodbye. Now a bunch of kids from the O.C. want to terminate Governatorville and rebuild it into a New Punk Nation, the kind of place where you fuck up your face just skateboarding over the amps. The back-to-Cali basement party Let’s Get Rid of L.A. echoes with the last la-las in la-la land: Squab make Slant 6 sound like doo-wop for the do-me set; the Flash Express beat Jack White until he’s black and blue; and the Starvations point a trigger finger at the Clash, drop a word on their tongue, and blow it through the back of their skull.

The new sound of the City of Angels is a greaser stomp that speaks of the devil. You can hear it in the album booklet, which features interviews with label owners, radio DJs, rock writers, and bands who helped create the scene, all discussing the post-afterbar moments when you drive your stinkin’ Lincoln to Dunkin’ Donuts and drink your breakfast as the sun goes down. The specter of ’77 still haunts Darby Crash’s hometown, but the album gives you hope that maybe the Germs were contagious.