Lost City Angels - Found Souls (by Jay Hale)

Have you noticed that heading down to your local independent record store can often feel like a trip to an aviary? You step through the door, gawk around at people, who, much like brightly plumed birds chirping away incessantly, can easily be categorized and identified in a nearly check-box-like fashion? See the guy in the skin tight, thrift store youth soccer shirt, horn-rimmed glasses and sporting a backpack? Dollars to donuts, he’s an emo fan getting ready to buy that new Bright Eyes record. How about that kid with the black nail polish and hooded Joy Division sweatshirt? He’s probably shopping for a few screamo CDs. Generalizations — they’re fun and easy to make. We’re all guilty of them. But sometimes, being a tad bit too presumptuous can get you into trouble, like when attempting to pigeonhole Boston’s Lost City Angels. Better not try to judge this book by its cover because despite frontman Ron Ragona’s devil-locked coif and drummer Adam Shaw’s affinity for black eyeliner, this certainly isn’t some attempt at paint-by-numbers rock and roll for the new millennium.

“I’ve seen [Shaw] in lots of black eyeliner and as much as that gives me a boner — as I’m sure it does for everyone else — that streams from our insatiable love for Social Distortion,” says guitarist Drew “Suxx” Indingaro. “If you have a problem with that, fuck you. You don’t get us. We are all influenced by the music we listen to and that reflects how we dress. I think that holds true for anyone. I mean, come on, who’s fucking idea was it to make plaid pants for ska kids anyway? Trends come and go, even the stupid ones. This fashion critique on bands has got to stop — judge bands on music.”

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