The Octopus Project Flys in Low

Listen to the Octopus Project poolside with inverted florals, it's so rad.


You can see the Thurmond over on the left. Gotta love her rad outfit tho -- simple sparkle.

My whole soundscape in San Diego here has been the Octopus Project (and similar shit).

Fixed gear? You know it. *It is grammatically correct to insert "lol" here

Fruitbooters turn wavechargers. Vibe out to Swollen Members.

Welcome to an indie-rock birthday party. Have a good one Dana.

We've been looking forward to it for weeks and it finally took place last night: The Octopus Project. I was even considering just ditching all my plans and just vibing out in Mexico for another half week or so, but I knew I couldn't miss this. It's something else to just show up somewhere and be introduced to a new "favourite" band. And as you all know (if you know me or have been reading this blog) I've been loving the instrumental electronic music recently. Take it from an indie-rock standpoint -- and a blast of rock out and a dash of class and you have the four piece from SoCal here that call themselves "The Octopus Project. Think Arcade Fire meets Tangerine Dream, or Ratatat goes slick-aggro. Chip jammed out so hard. Yvonne plays a Moog with whole body -- I guess they call it a thurmond. Sending us up and away with the flick of a wrist like a cute space age goddess. Her hands are soft. She totally gets the whole "this music could so rave out for hours on end" thing -- but things it sounds tiring. Totally. The airplanes fly so low over the venue you think you're in for it. San Diego at night -- we go surfing later at 2:3o in the morning at that spot where you'll get beat down if you try it during the day.


The Casbah here totally rocks the same crowd as The Empty Bottle in Chicago (which, if you read it, totally reminded me of California... funny how that works... funny how I eventually made it here)...

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The Big S.D. -- Enter at Turquoise Street (And Don't Stop Till You're Listening to Pandora)

I'm back hanging with my buddie Chip in San Diego after an emotionally wrangling (in the most amazing way possible, of course) and inspiring trip through Mexican waves. There were parties, more beach fires, humanitarian home building, and volunteering alongside a crew of mainly high school students to help out indigenous farming communities and small-time Mestizo contractors. Have fun with the next crew Heidi :) -- My mind floats along all the paths I have traveled and then again towards what home will soon be...

I've spent the last day developing some sweet playlists on Pandora -- the music genome project (read: the sweetest fucking thing in existence... google it), eating Korean-style pig stomach, and -- oh ya, I lost my wallet this morning when we went surfing at Scripps -- but I totally found it and a folding army knife which wasn't mine too (which could be real U.S. Army issue, since there are ton of military bases in the area -- the Navy base I passed today was GIANT).

A generally rad dude: Chip -- the man whose answering machine lets you know you probably won't hear back from him.

We stop for gas the first day in San Diego on Turquoise Street, as Chip gives me a run down on all the different beach communities that are home to nightlife, waves, and really tasty burritos.

Go up to the war memorial past the road that says it's closed and you get this view in 360 degrees -- a metropolis of squirming lights rolls along gracefully.

Beer in the fridge -- check. Thruster for barrels -- check. Fan on for max chill -- check.

Surfing as politics: Surfing is not part of some marginalized "surf culture" -- these days out here riding waves is just what everybody does.

Manuel is the Mexican guy in charge of maintenance and stuff at the house here. He's super chill but freaks out when the authorities show up at the door.

I totally rode that longboard.

SoCal is the home of the concrete jungle mystique -- you could probably lay a foundation over an entire small country with all the roads that cross over each other down here.

Setting sun, brilliant colours.

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