Hollywood

(this entry was written late last night (Sunday and this morning)

I woke up in San Francisco this morning. Had breakfast with my dad at a diner up the street from the St. Francis. Then on to SFO and a flight on Virgin America bound for LAX.

Back to Mike’s to hideout for the afternoon. Feeling like jello, but with far more energy than I had at any point during the day, I set off for the Hollywood & Highland Parking Lot underneath the Kodak Theatre. Tonight was my concert pilgrimage, Goldfrapp Live at the Hollywood Bowl, with Orquesta Buena Vista Social Club opening up. I climbed behind the wheel for the requisite 20 minutes to my destination.

Wilshire Boulevard. Santa Monica Boulevard. Beverly Hills into the heart of Hollywood. My fuse was lit anew. The radio was tuned to the Dodgers broadcast, a game taking place just a mile or so away. The streets were alive. Rows of packed clubs spilling music onto Sunset Boulevard, plenty of taut, walking mannequins strutting to be seen.

For all the hype and bullshit, you have to know that the Hollywood Hills are a beautiful spot. There's vice and hysteria all around you, but when you separate and just look at the landscape, you can feel the eminence of dreams.

I had never been to the Hollywood Bowl. In 2007, Gibby, Jim and I came out here for a week intending the Pet Shop Boys play here, their only US date that year. Unfortunately, that show was cancelled. So three years on, I finally made it. This time, for Goldfrapp's last US show, and one of only 5 that they performed Stateside. The night before they were in San Francisco for Pride Weekend, I can imagine that was quite a celebration. In case you aren't familiar with Goldfrapp, you can check them out here...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSdZAkA4VpA

In case you aren't familiar with the Buena Vista Social Club, you can check them out too,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u14jLbNT9Tg&feature=related

As exciting as these two acts are, I felt they seemed a little disparate in style to share the same bill. All I can say is it worked.
The crowd was very exciting and diverse. Scores of Cubans and other Latins, many wearing the little Cuban hats; and then a tremendous amount of Goldfrapp fans dressed just like the dancers in that video. A high amount of male and female homosexuals, but most of the women were lipstick lesbians clad in 80s aerobic attire, far more preferable than a barrage of lumberjack lesbians. This was Xanadu.

I had a good seat to myself about halfway up the amphitheatre, but it was in the middle of a long bench. I took in the BVSC through the beauty of magic hour, watching couples of all ages dance and smile. I wondered if some of the crowd would leave before the headliner, they certainly did not. The crowd grew and the excitement swelled.

Not wanting to be stuck in a row of strangers I went further back to sit in an aluminum chair in between sections. The spectacle began in a sea of red wind and dry ice, and the stunning Alison Goldfrapp took us all on a hypnotic journey into Utopia (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIiPn9sVvQY&feature=related)

The lullaby of the opening numbers gave way to a pulsing beat, as the band ripped through a set comprised entirely of the new album Head First and the more driving tracks of Supernature and Black Cherry. Killer set list. I took in a few different vantage points around the Bowl, trying to bathe in the sound and reflect on all that I've seen and felt lately. I didn't mingle at all, this was not yet my time to assimilate. I don't think I interacted with anyone other than a couple of vendors and an older lady I watched out for as she had trouble ascending the steep slopes of the Hollywood Bowl (how cool is it that there people in their 60s and 70s rocking out to Goldfrapp!) Before I knew it, we were at the finale of Strict Machine
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wn9ETvfIRFQ)
I was behind a row of terrace seating, bouncing along with the crowd in rhapsodic reverie.

Just like that it was over. Back onto the shuttle bus to the Kodak Theatre. Understanding that traffic would be a nightmare, I decided to lay back a bit and do the cliche, taking in Hollywood Boulevard. There was nothing planned, but I looked down at one point and saw Robert Evans' star underneath my feet. I started to pay a bit of attention and looked at the cement square tiles in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Though I'd been here several times before, I never bothered to look. Now I was looking at the hand and shoe sizes of Humphrey Bogart, Sean Connery, and Clint Eastwood. There was Michael Douglas right next to his dad, Kirk Douglas. Over there, Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell. This was fun.

I've been miserable since I got out here. But I'm thankful that there truly is Hollywood magic. I felt better last night.


post script: Of course, laying immediately adjacent to the glamour and beauty of Hollywood is the broken hearted circus, various wack jobs dressed as movie characters looking for attention that is eagerly provided by thick waisted tourist families. The biggest crowd last night was for a seven year old dancing like Michael Jackson, in full Michael "Smooth Criminal" attire. The kid had the moves down, but I just felt so sad for him. An image of a barbaric carnival leader conditioning him to perform and then taking his money and locking the kid up in a cage until the next show. That's Hollywood.