Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
The Poway Principle
“You know who [Arizona lawman] Joe Arpaio is, right? Every time we go through there, it never fails... We won’t play Arizona anymore,” says Crocodiles’ Brandon Welchez in response to a question about a song from their recent EP Fires of Comparison called “Kill Joe Arpaio.” “Every time when we go through [Arizona], we get pulled over by the police or Border Patrol. We get searched and hassled and treated like criminals, and our bass player, whose last name happens to be Gonzalez, gets extra hassled.”
Welchez and fellow Crocodile Charles Rowell are preparing to launch a U.S.-European tour in support of their second full-length, Sleep Forever. “We grew up on the road, really,” says Welchez. “Our old band, the Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower, toured a lot.” When in San Diego, he says they used to play the Ché Café.
Welchez says he misses his friends when touring. “I miss Rancho’s [Mexican restaurant in North Park] and Mama’s Lebanese Bakery next to Live Wire.”
But in recent interviews, the band has come off as being a tad San Diego–phobic. Is debut CD Summer of Hate targeted at their hometown? Welchez says no, not directly. “Growing up in Poway, I was surrounded by racists and homophobes and rednecks. It was like getting beat up by idiots in white [pickup] trucks and being called a punk-rock faggot every day of your life for 12 years. It’s a horrible place to grow up,” he says, “if you’re not a fuckin’ jock.”
But Poway has also played host to other pop success stories such as blink-182 and Unwritten Law. “It’s probably just a reaction to what growing up there is like,” he says, “but I can’t speak for any other bands. The only other friend I have from Poway is Gabe Serbian. He’s in the Locust.”
Crocodiles are an indie/fuzz-rock duo. Welchez sings and programs beats; Rowell plays guitar. Formed in 2008, Crocodiles have gotten attention from Spin, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork.
Welchez says it wasn’t easy to escape the gravitational pull of the hometown rock scene. “If you have any ambition,” he says, “you have to go out on the road and suffer. If you’re claiming music is your main thing and that it’s more than just a hobby, then you should have the balls to get out of here.”
Fires of Comparison is said to be without vocals because both Crocs contracted strep after sharing a pipe with a homeless dude in Presidio Park. I ask Welchez if that’s true. “Did you grow up in San Diego and drink and smoke weed in Presidio Park?” he asks. I plead the Fifth. “That’s what I’m gonna do as well.” He laughs.
Here's something you might be interested in.
The Poway Principle
The Poway Principle
“You know who [Arizona lawman] Joe Arpaio is, right? Every time we go through there, it never fails... We won’t play Arizona anymore,” says Crocodiles’ Brandon Welchez in response to a question about a song from their recent EP Fires of Comparison called “Kill Joe Arpaio.” “Every time when we go through [Arizona], we get pulled over by the police or Border Patrol. We get searched and hassled and treated like criminals, and our bass player, whose last name happens to be Gonzalez, gets extra hassled.”
Welchez and fellow Crocodile Charles Rowell are preparing to launch a U.S.-European tour in support of their second full-length, Sleep Forever. “We grew up on the road, really,” says Welchez. “Our old band, the Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower, toured a lot.” When in San Diego, he says they used to play the Ché Café.
Welchez says he misses his friends when touring. “I miss Rancho’s [Mexican restaurant in North Park] and Mama’s Lebanese Bakery next to Live Wire.”
But in recent interviews, the band has come off as being a tad San Diego–phobic. Is debut CD Summer of Hate targeted at their hometown? Welchez says no, not directly. “Growing up in Poway, I was surrounded by racists and homophobes and rednecks. It was like getting beat up by idiots in white [pickup] trucks and being called a punk-rock faggot every day of your life for 12 years. It’s a horrible place to grow up,” he says, “if you’re not a fuckin’ jock.”
But Poway has also played host to other pop success stories such as blink-182 and Unwritten Law. “It’s probably just a reaction to what growing up there is like,” he says, “but I can’t speak for any other bands. The only other friend I have from Poway is Gabe Serbian. He’s in the Locust.”
Crocodiles are an indie/fuzz-rock duo. Welchez sings and programs beats; Rowell plays guitar. Formed in 2008, Crocodiles have gotten attention from Spin, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork.
Welchez says it wasn’t easy to escape the gravitational pull of the hometown rock scene. “If you have any ambition,” he says, “you have to go out on the road and suffer. If you’re claiming music is your main thing and that it’s more than just a hobby, then you should have the balls to get out of here.”
Fires of Comparison is said to be without vocals because both Crocs contracted strep after sharing a pipe with a homeless dude in Presidio Park. I ask Welchez if that’s true. “Did you grow up in San Diego and drink and smoke weed in Presidio Park?” he asks. I plead the Fifth. “That’s what I’m gonna do as well.” He laughs.
Comments