Jeremy Oberstein

Nearly a decade ago, The Walkmen burst onto what was then a nascent indie-rock scene, sporting a wistful, moody and beautiful blend of piano, guitar, drums and bass. Their debut, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone, was nearly universally lauded while their four albums since have each proved inventive and a study in creative composition that has the potential for widespread appeal.

Love is hard. So is creating anything original that touches upon a subject Shakespeare, Beethoven and Elliott Smith all emptied their hearts for. But people keep trying to successfully send up life’s most vexing problem, and to varying degrees of success and originality. Enter The Love Language, and the triumph of lo-fi, power-pop, blues inspired punk rock that reaches for the stars and often graces the heavens. Their raw mix of ingredients, their rock &...

From the outside looking in, it was a political rally like any other. A stream of elected officials, cheered on by adoring supporters, urged them to vote for what's right and ignore the naysayers during a bitter election that has pitted party against party. But, whenever the President of the United States is involved, there's no such thing as normal. About a week ago, USC officials got word President Barack Obama would hold a rally...

Photo by Troy Holden, via the LAist Featured Photos pool on Flickr. Some may be excited about this. Others, not so much. Still, seeing the president tends to be a pretty uniquely cool way to spend a day and that is the opportunity some lucky chaps will get when President Barack Obama is scheduled to return to Los Angeles Friday, Oct. 22 for a rally on USC's McCarthy Quad Alumni Park, which you can...

It would never be this empty again: "Four Level, Hollywood Freeway," by Richard C. Miller | 1950, with Los Angeles City Hall in the background. (Richard C. Miller / Craig Krull Gallery) He took man-made behemoths, turning them into art, and on Friday, the world said goodbye to Richard Crump Miller, famed photographer who profiled the city's rise from farm to concrete jungle taking time to also shoot the glitteratti. He was 98. "Miller's...

Toward the end of the Broken Bells' set last week, James Mercer shot a cold, hard stare at guitarist Dan Elkan, the brilliant and exuberant side man whose backing vocals had strayed off key. It might have been barely perceptible (see the video below and fast forward to around the four minute mark if you are like me and don't like waiting), and it was a fruitless error during an otherwise rousing rendition of the...

My Morning Jacket had just put the finishing touches on a spectacular show at the Greek Theatre August 12, when our small group chatted about the virtues of rock and roll. See, my friend (you might know her) is somewhat of a rock maven and an MMJ devotee, a true patron of saint Jim James who would beat down a path to their show any day of the week. Your reviewer, while quite fond of...

Mike Peebler and Jeff Wisen alternate in the title role. Each plays Laertes to the other's Hamlet | Photo by Ian Flanders Alone, on a dark stage with just a symphony of crickets in support, Mike Peebler slowly intoned the most important soliloquy in the English language. "To be or not to be," he asked the audience, and, though most could recite the speech by heart, we waited breathlessly for the answer. So it...

In this July 2009, photo provided by Laurence Sunderland, Abby is shown sailing in Santa Monica Bay, in Santa Monica, Calif. Abby sought to one-up older brother Zac when she set sail in November in a quest to become the youngest person to sail around the world alone. Recently, Abby Sunderland endeavored to cross the world on a boat, her voyage cut short, she said, due to "one long wave, and one short mast."...

I was just going to leave you with a bunch of pretty photos from a talented photographer called Mick. I was not going to detail anything about the recent show by LCD Soundsystem and Holy Ghost, preferring not to flood the airwaves with words when pictures tell the tale anyway. I was not going to do any of this until my conscience got the better of me. You see, dear reader, I must tell you...