TODAY at 4 on the USC Campus between Bovard Auditorium and Taper Hall

The USC campus has never been immune to bicycle thievery, but in the last month this has proved especially apparent. Within my small circle alone, two bicycle thefts and two wheel losses (unfortunately including my own) have occurred in the last month. Here are a few tips for novices and experts for prevention:

• Get a great U-Lock. This article by Slate may be two years old, but the principle remains the same: not all locks were created equal. Another lesson learned is that security may come at a price. The Kryptonite New York Fahgettaboudit U-lock was the winner and can be found on Ebay for as low as $50. An investment, really, as the true value of a bicycle is not known until it’s gone…

• Even for short-term locking, use a cord lock in addition to the U-lock. Especially if you have quick-release wheels and even if you have a bolted-on wheel, an additional 15 seconds of locking really is worth it.

• Lock through the frame, wheel, and to a rack, even if this means more walking to find an appropriate place. Pull the cord lock through your frame, front wheel, and to your lock.

Other guides to safe locking: SF Bicycle Coalition, eHow.

(Judas Priest reference in the title there…)

12:30 AM, Saturday night.  I was debating between going straight home after leaving my friend’s place and stopping at another friend’s for a party…just for a second…maybe one drink…

Seriously, just one.  Oh COME on, quit judging me…

I was riding down 29th Street on my Bianchi road bike when I decided to call my friend to see if her shindig was still going on, so I stopped at 29th and Menlo.  As the call started to go through, I noticed a mass of 40 to 50 bicycles approaching with little lights twinkling like diamonds.  I knew those bicycles had to be the Midnight Ridazz…

* * * * * * * * * *

Midnight Ridazz = a party on wheels.  Power in numbers, in two wheels we trust.  Riding with friends and having a beer without ever stopping at a bar (or stopping in general).  Just looking for an escape on a cool weekend night in LA.  Dancing to music from a sound system pulled by a bike trailer–one hand in the air, the other on a brake lever (or maybe you don’t have brakes, you fixie hipster–yeah, I went there).

And the journey itself is the only destination.

Midnight Ridazz started one night in 2004 when a group of eight friends in Echo Park were bored and decided to make a bit of an event out of their usual trip to the bar.  They biked through Downtown and surrounding areas on a tour of local fountains.

The group of friends turned into a mass of people in a matter of years, almost exclusively by word of mouth.  With the growth of cycling between 2004 and 2008, especially road and fixed-gear cycles, the group exploded; eight people became (in some cases) eight hundred, and rides couldn’t be organized by a few people.

Now, anyone can organize their own ride on the Midnight Ridazz website and see who else is organizing theirs.  Typically the rides are 20 to 40 miles at a slow to medium pace, often taking place in Echo Park, Downtown, or Hollywood–many times, all of these places in one night.

The explosion of alternative bike culture around the United States has spawned an entire culture around late night rides.  Midnight Ridazz isn’t the only late night ride in Los Angeles anymore.  Besides the dozens of smaller rides throughout the week, there are major staples in the diet of late night LA rides.

Monday, there’s the now-legendary Wolfpack Hustle: unless you’re mad into lycra and have Tour de France aspirations, this is probably the fastest ride in the United States.  Tuesday, Bicykillers in the San Fernando Valley–don’t ask me the details of the ride, thems Valley folk.  Wednesday, the Koreatown Forge and Gorge: pedal reasonably fast, eat shittons of food–what more in life is there?  Last Friday of every month, Critical Mass: arguably the largest and most famous ride because it takes place all over the world on the same day: young, old, hipsters, business people…all out for a slow-paced joyride throughout their respective metropolises.  The Saturday after the third Friday of each month, C.R.A.N.K. MOB, a self-proclaimed “monthly bike ride dance party masquerade carnival sextravaganza”: more party than ride, but it’s all the same in the end, really.

But of course, there’s the classic ride: the Midnight Ridazz Friday night rides.

* * * * *

Come to think of it, my first ride was a Midnight Ridazz ride.  The “Mother of All Rides” in mid-March was a glorified scavenger hunt.  Two people dressed in egg costumes hid throughout a moderately-sized section of Hollywood.  Four groups, each with about a hundred to two-hundred riders, went on a hunt for the “eggs.”  Once found, the winning groups got spoke cards: collectible momentos as proof of going on a ride, to be proudly displayed in the spokes of your bike wheel. (And no, it’s not like putting baseball cards in your spokes when you’re a kid because you wanted your bike to sound like a motorcycle.)  From there, the four groups converged and sped through all parts of Hollywood and surrounding areas: The Grove at Third and Fairfax, Hollywood and Highland, and Melrose.

As I made my way through the massive pack of riders, the music changed: one person slung a ghetto-blaster over his back, playing the best in electronica at the time (Digitalism!), then another bike pulling a sound system blasting guilty pleasures (Journey? Foreigner…dear God).  I talked to strangers–elated to be on the ride, excited to meet me and anyone else.  There were moments of pure speed.  Heading South on La Brea from Hollywood toward The Grove is a slight downhill.  We picked up speed, gunned passed cars, cheering all along the way.

If you asked me why this first experience got me so hooked on bikes, it would be hard to put it in words.  I think part of it is the innate human desire for the thrill of velocity, the lust for a bit of controlled danger.  Good music blasted from trailers throughout the mass of 5-600 people had lots to do with it.  But I think most of it had to do with the beauty of human congregation in pursuit of noble goals.  Simple goals.  Share the speed, the feeling of exclusivity, the collective ownership of the road for at least one cool night.  A few miles.  A few hours in an alternate, irreverent reality.

Most cars we encountered that night honked in approval, and drivers cheered out their windows.  You can’t help but holler back.  And smile.

And maybe that’s what it was…I couldn’t stop smiling that night as I cruised through those potted-and-pitted Hollywood streets.

* * * * * * * * * *

The twinkling lights and bikes approached and stopped at the same corner I was on, 29th and Menlo.  What a strange place for a group of riders…

…what a strange group of riders.

Some cyclists were in full Viking suits (yes, with horned helmets), some with puppets, others in shiny metallic jumpsuits.  I approached the group and asked someone (who turned out to be Ryan, the ride organizer) about the ride…

Me: Hey, what ride is this?
Ryan: Midnight Ridazz, Robots ride!
Me: Where we going?
Ryan: Dunno, but we’re gonna party, come with!

The Robots ride, it turned out, was an off-shoot of Midnight Ridazz.  Like C.R.A.N.K. MOB, it’s more like “party with a bit of riding” than “riding with a bit of party.”  Fine by me.

We biked through The Row, and not surprisingly, ran into many Greek parties and people.  Most were appreciative.  One was a douchebag.  He took his bike (a beach cruiser, but not that it REALLY matters in the end) and threw it into the street for the express purpose of fucking somebody up.  Unfortunately, somebody did fall as a result of it.  Well, one of the Robots riders didn’t take that so well…Fist + Face.

We ended up on the USC campus at McCarthy Quad and Leavey Library.  The promenade in front of the library, so often frequented by students looking for a smoke or phone break any other day of the week,  filled with people looking for a beer and dance break.  After everyone had their fill of dance and drink, we rolled out to the LA Coliseum, where just hours before, it was populated by tailgate parties for a USC football game: middle-aged men recalling their college days to the dismay of their wives and embarrassment of their four-year-old children.

Once there, we went down to the bowels of the Coliseum’s underground parking structure.  We carved through the parking lot ramps and got to the lowest level in the parking structure, where dancing, drinking, and debauchery continued.

It seems maybe as though we were in Hell…so far beneath the earth, with so much vice.  But to everyone there, it was Heaven.

With the changing of seasons comes another dismal opportunity to create a [brand new] playlist, befitting the not so sudden, and ever so slight drop in temperature that generally occurs as we plunge deeper into the year, and consequently deeper into that pile of leaves, which at USC is that mire of papers that has gathered around one’s desk– the intensity of it depending wholly on your personal level of procrastination, a direct measurement of exactly how many days you chose to dance in an inebriated state to M.G.M.T. (to whom no one has a reason to listen to except for the reason above) instead of doing work.

Regardless, Matt Berninger may have been doing likewise in his younger days as he reflects back on the autumn season.

The National- “Mr. November”

 
“I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders”.

With his cavernous deep voice and well carved cheekbones, it is not difficult to see understand why, as this lead singer proves awkward looks to be an unnecessary (although common) component to being frontman of an indie band.

Kudos to those of you already familiar with the band, shaking your head to my cliche choice of song for said playlist, which is not so cliche at all with the exception of the title itself..

Those of you familiar with the band, but unaware of the existence of albums other than Boxer, should have their indie status examined.

Those fully aware and fond of all albums, especially the Virginia EP, should lose their hipster status altogether… (I mean, half of the new EP wasn’t even new).

For those who’ve never heard the band, here’s a chance to have a listen and redeem yourself:

http://www.myspace.com/thenational

Have a listen, but if your immediate reaction is to add them as a friend, then you my friend, are behind the times. Dear reader, what are you doing with an active myspace and without a proper blog account?

I guess that’s what we’re for. So stay tuned and keep reading.

First and foremost, for all you Seinfeld,and Curb Your Enthusiasm fans, or for all of you fans of funny, please take some time out of your day for Larry David. Yes, he may be an ignorant SOB sometimes but it makes for the most uncomfortably wonderful kind of comedy around. Critics will deem people like LD as the dark side of humanity, providing nothing more than negative commentary. I must (un)kindly disagree. David will say everything that people only think, when others are too scared to talk. And it is fucking hilarious. While he may not be for everyone, it’s worth a shot to convert as many people as possible. His comedy may have been around for years (Seinfeld–which I think pales in comparison to Curb Your Enthusiasm) but I think everyone should check it out. I mean, who doesn’t like watching people feel uncomfortable? Hilarious.  Here’s a link to an article he recently wrote about the upcoming election. Check it.

Secondly, new music. I am proudly using my first post to provide a shameless plug for my friend’s band. Formerly known as Panda, Dizzy Balloon (huh?) has been around since middle school. Over time, their sound has grown and matured into something new. This past year, they recorded a full length album. Check out the myspace. If this music doesn’t get your toe a-tappin’, I don’t know what will.

See, I took care of your afternoon entertainment. Enjoy.

As I was doing my daily perusing around the internet I stumbled upon an article that shocked me.  It read

Chimps: Not Human, But Are They People?.

At first I clicked on the article expecting an article that would finally tell me that chimpanzees are just furry dwarves with hands for feet (something I always suspected after watching videos like this one)

But what I found out in the article was even more frightening than a chimp getting a haircut.  According to scientists, via WIRED magazine, the chimp population has now reached critical levels.  In recent years the number of chimps has fallen from 10,000 in West Africa to only a couple thousand.  I was appalled by what I had read and immediately needed to get a hold of the situation.  To help put things into perspective I listened to a band I had just discovered a band called Buena Vista Social Club.  A collection of all the great Cuban artists of the 40’s and 50’s they joined together in the late 90s with slide guitarist Ry Cooder to form this Cuban Super group.  Their afro-cuban beat helped me put things into perspective and realize that I can’t do anything about the chimp population, but I can dance like an idiot in my apartment to “Candela”.  So to help you forget your worries I am putting the song up here for your enjoyment.  Dance away.

Studios heavily rely on movie trailers to attract audiences to their new movie.  But, with so many movies coming out each month, the sinking economy, and rising movie ticket prices, what distinguishes one trailer from the next?   Some studios try to place a song, popular or not, to try and draw the audience into the movie and to help them feel more connected.

Sure, there’s the standard Harry Potter-Dark Knight-Star Wars trailers that only use composed music performed by orchestras and since the books/previous movies of these movies are already so vastly popular, there’s no need to make the trailer stand out in a musical way.  However, more independent movies or movies with a less solid fan base sometimes try to catch viewer’s attention through music.

The “Watchmen” trailer debuted at comic-con this year, with “The Beginning is the End is the Beginning” by the Smashing Pumpkins playing in the background, and with the song the trailer attracted some much deserved buzz.  The movie itself does not boast a celebrity cast and cannot rely on the fan base of the graphic novels and therefore by creating this dark trailer with dark images and an even darker song, the caught people’s attention.  Personally, I had never heard of the novels and I was never a fan of the Smashing Pumpkins until this movie trailer.  Now, I love the song, I love the trailer, and I plan to see the movie.  Maybe I’m just an easy sell.

Garden State now has a cult fan base, however, when the movie was in production, there were no paparazzi staked out in between scenes on the set to see Zach Braff and Natalie Portman hanging out.  And so, when it came time for Fox Searchlight to release a trailer, they called on the help of the Postal Service’s song “Such Great Heights” for background music.  Maybe the movie became so popular because of the acting and the killer script, but I like to think it had something to do with how well the song went with the trailer theme and made you think, “Huh.  This movie is totally about my life.”

And then there’s this summer’s comedic hit, “The Pineapple Express.”  The trailer not only brought back M.I.A’s song “Paper Planes,” but the trailer also hinted at the genius of James Franco, who has never been cast as a strong leading figure in a movie before.  For the greater part of August, “Paper Planes” was played on the radio and I caught it as some people’s ringtones too.  Also, the movie was a success (the trailer song was not played in the movie, though that would’ve have been so cool) and James Franco now has a legit career (maybe).

Does the music that’s played in a trailer sway your decision to go see in theater?  I would say sometimes it does.

Here’s your weekly update of the chart KSCR submitted to CMJ for our most played music:

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