Rooftop lounging at 2023. (iPhonetography)

It’s Tuesday night and I said I was not going out this eve because I’m feeling sick. But after a having bottle of wine with my dinner, I’m feeling, “better.” Now I’m driving down Santa Fe, bumping the iPod, and heading to 2023.

What the fuck am I doing? I should be resting. But, driven by the chance to see a Dorian Wood set, I put on my blinders and proceeded with caution.

2023 is a loft on Santa Fe Avenue, near Washington Boulevard. I like to call this place; the outskirts, of the fringe, of the L.A. music scene. So far from all the L.A. hype, because that’s the way they like it. This place is run by one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met, local artist, Tommy Mose Abbott. He greets me today with, “free Colt 45 for the first hour.” Guess what I’m drinking.

After a few drinks, I’m sitting outside on a rooftop with a view of the L.A. skyline. I met a homeless, Puerto Rican, couple that had amazing stories of stolen cars, jail, children left behind and a bun in the oven, as they made their way from Pennsylvania to California. I wanted to talk with them longer but the music started and I headed in.

The Dough Rollers opened the night with some down and dirty southern blues. I hope I’m correct in calling it blues. They call it Roots Music/ Americana on their MySpace. They proved themselves virtuosos of an assortment of instruments including: slide guitar, mandolin, harmonica, kazoo, squeeze box, fiddle, banjo, washboard & jug. Give ‘em a listen to: http://www.myspace.com/malcolmandjack

Joe Tepperman, Clint W. Heidorn and Leah Harmon make up Mooey Moobau tonight. (iPhonetography)

As Mooey Moobau took the stage, I realized that I had absolutely no idea what to expect. Well, I was pleasantly surprised. Bursts of acapella chants and spoken word blended with blasts of accordion, bass and guitar in a musical algebraic equation. Like in math class, I sat trying to make sense. Then seeing that x=y and it came together nicely. After listening to their CD, All Murmur of Our Mother’s Water, I can’t stop playing this track called, Friends Who Are Fathers. Listen:

Drop by their page and comment. www.myspace.com/mooeymoobau

Dorian Wood at the piano. (iPhonetography)

By the time Dorian Wood is setting up, I’m drunk; thanks to Colt 45 and Tommy’s generosity. Things become a little blurry at this point. I remember really digging the version of, Black Pig, he did this night. Wood, a huggable bear of a man, has the ability to take the audience from foot stomping, hand clapping madness to whispering, murmuring lullabies. This man is a rare musical gem. If you ever get a chance to see him live, you must do so.
www.myspace.com/dorianwood

Closing the night, with a proper send off, The Petrojvic Blasting Company got people out of their seats for some dancing. These mo’fo’s are just fucken fun! Piano, horns and accordion filled the room! I think, and again I hope I’m not wrong, that their music is Turkish folk. It’s hard to put any of these bands into genres. You just have to listen for yourself. So check them out: www.myspace.com/theblastingcompany

I have to get some rest now. Sore throat from this night is killing me and I need to recover because this weekend has some cool shows lined up.

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Rafael Cardenas can be reached at eastsiderwriter@gmail.com

You can also find his writing in the Citizen LA.
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