Make Way for the Bad Guy

Earlier this week, I had read an interview with Lynda Keeler, the President of LA.Com, in the Hollywood Reporter. She said she wanted to present "classic LA" via the website. When asked what was a good example of "classic LA," she said, "Our launch party this Thursday at Perino's."

Eeek! Why did this alarm me? Because I was asked to DJ this particular launch party. I DJ around town, usually at a great little dive in Hollywood called The Burgundy Room, but occasionally for other events. I had been asked by Amoeba Music (I'm an alum) to DJ this event, because the woman throwing it heard me DJ at the AFI Film Festival's opening party and liked the vibe or something. And because I'm still tight with my Amoeba crew.

The dress code was "glamorous." Fortunately, I own one glamorous red velvet gown and already am sportin' pretty glamorous Farrah Fawcett hair these days, so I could swing the requirements. I was safely tucked away behind two turntables and a microphone, as well as a couple CD players; but I wound up being my own roadie for a while so I was out in the crowd checking equipment and levels throughout the venue with regularity.

The space was an old restaurant called Perino's. It was, indeed, pretty classic LA. (And in classic LA style, it's being torn down in a week in order to build apartments.) There are stories about the days that Frank & Dean drank there, or when Tyrone Power tried to dump his wife for Judy Garland there, or any of regular patron Charlie Chaplin's adventures in the joint. However, the place as a restaurant closed many years ago and currently survives on rentals for private events or as a film location. (LA is full of buildings that are only used for filming - diners, houses, office buildings, theatres - it's kinda creepy.)

What I liked best about Perino's was its movie element. The only movie I'd ever seen that was filmed there was Scarface. It was that scene in the restaraunt where's he's bitching about how crappy life is and how he's a big asshole and how Michelle Pfeiffer's "womb is polluted!" The guy who was setting up the equipment had to take a minute to yell, "Make way for the bad guy!" because we were setting up in that very room.

Once you left the main area, you wandered into the unused hallways and upstairs portions and you suddenly had walked into The Shining. Way creepy. Half the place is nicely kept up, the other half has paint peeling from the walls, fuzzy mold on the doorframes, and loads of rusty, unused, cobwebby stuff crammed into corners of hidden rooms. (Yes, I was snooping.)

The party itself? It was okay. I especially liked that the bar in the room where I was DJing was essentially all ice sculpture. It was for whatever vodka brand was sponsoring the party. There were no celebs that I recognized, although I know some other industry scenesters were there. I'll have to read about it in the trades. People in LA rarely dance at these things, so even though I was playing some pretty cool stuff, only the freaky people got into it. But I am amused by freaky people, as long as they aren't being freaky to me.

I just got a kick out of being so close to Tony Montana.