Login
Voters outside the Alameda County Courthouse casting their ballots in the 2020 election in Oakland, Calif.
Los Angeles school employees and supporters rallied in Los Angeles State Historic Park on Thursday.
The strike began on Tuesday in the Van Nuys neighborhood of Los Angeles, with bus drivers and other school employees walking a picket line outside a school district bus depot.
As 2022 wound down, three of the most talked-about movies seemed to share one very obvious trait: disdain for the wealthy. But as Pat Cassels argues in this critical essay built around The Menu, Glass Onion, and Triangle of Sadness, that’s a facile reading. The root of the rot here isn’t money, but power.
There’s real danger in Musk and our current “age of the petulant oligarch,” as Paul Krugman recently called it. “[T]he top 0.00001 percent’s share of total wealth today is almost 10 times what it was four decades ago,” he writes. “And the immense wealth of the modern super-elite has surely brought a lot of power, including the power to act childishly.” Glass Onion’s Bron would get along fantastically with Triangle’s Marxist captain and Russian capitalist. All three are perfectly willing to get drunk (on power or booze) and dispense half-understood economic axioms as geopolitical truth bombs, even as they steer their boat into dangerous waters in the name of free speech.
Gangs within the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department are a "cancer" on the county's law enforcement, says a 70-page report by the Civilian Oversight Commission's special counsel. Wikipedia has a list of the gangs.
— Read the restThe report by the Civilian Oversight Commission condemned the groups, whose members engage in "egregious conduct" like using excessive force and threatening colleagues, as a "cancer" that must be banned immediately.
Talk box. Photograph by Carl Lender. Wikimedia Commons, Licensed under CCO 2.0.
This week, the Review is publishing a series of short reflections on love songs, broadly defined.
I liked spending evenings in my friend Zack’s living room when I moved to Los Angeles. I would make the short drive down Sunset in the dark and park in the lot behind a ceviche stand, then climb a flight of stairs to his apartment and set up on the couch. Zack produces music for rappers and vocalists, mostly Angelenos like him, and his living room was a deconstructed studio, with sequencers and MIDI samplers occupying his coffee table and clusters of new speakers mushrooming every few weeks, filling vacant corners. This was in the fall of 2020; when we would hang out, he would show me the dregs of his midday Ableton foolings, scraps of beats that mostly never coalesced into songs. I think Zack and I became friends years earlier largely because we snagged on musical details similarly. He knew I liked to hear the drafts.
These flotsam sessions would fade into trading favorite songs, newly discovered or resurrected for driving playlists. One night, Zack showed me “I Want to Be Your Man” by the late Roger Troutman, the star boy of the electro-funk family band Zapp that emerged in the late seventies. Roger and his brothers—he was the fourth of nine, growing up in Hamilton, Ohio—set themselves apart by using the talk box, a device both futuristic and analog in its time. A talk box delivers sound from a source, like an electric guitar or a synth, into a player’s mouth through a plastic tube. The player, clenching the tube with their teeth, shapes the sound by mouthing lyrics, and it is then picked up by a microphone. The result is a tinny, soulful kind of proto-vocoder tone produced by a musician who looks like they’re siphoning gas. Roger built his first talk box with the tubing from a meat freezer in his family’s garage; the “Electric Country Preacher,” as he called the tool, defines the relaxed but fevery ballad that he wrote in 1987. Roger’s bare tenor croons the verses of “I Want to Be Your Man” over bouncy bass, declaring his love for a woman who may or may not want him back. His talk box’d voice careens in for the chorus, pleading the titular phrase four times in a row. I would leave Zack’s and drive back to my house, yanking the emergency brake to park on a steep incline while Roger descended the scale sappily through the aux: “My mind is blind at times I can’t see anyone but you / Those other girls don’t matter, no, they can’t spoil my view / I must make you understand, I want to be your man.”
I had gone to LA in the wake of a breakup, the end of a long relationship with the first, and still the only, person I’ve been in love with. This love was not so much the pining kind that Roger feels in the track, but one that materialized between us in the dark, or wholly outside of demarcated time, like a warped fact in a dream. I knew how to love only him and often thought that would be the case until I died. We finally came to terms with the fact that we wanted radically different lives and that we had each failed to persuade the other. We doctored a rental car contract so he could drive back across the border to Canada, and I increased the distance between us by moving further west. I felt a numb relief that muffled my sorrow.
Being alone is sometimes easier than imagining feelings of that magnitude again. How dramatically I had been shaped by that person—an experience I worried would make me somehow unable to accommodate future attachments. There is something about Roger’s syrupy song of desire that has helped me understand this idea to be cowardly and false as time passes, though. “I Want to Be Your Man” revels in the pleasure of wanting someone and wanting to be changed by them, as well as in the unavoidably destabilizing effects of falling in love. Vision blurs and communication fails—“I tried, I tried, I tried, I tried to tell you how I feel, but I get mixed up.” (“Sooooooo mixed uuuuuuupp.”) These chaotic pursuits are still generative in the world of the song, in which a plastic tube can let a man possess the soul of an electric instrument and let a silently mouthed word transmit inhuman timbres. Lately I’ve been trying to allow transformations of the heart on small scales, embracing flings or swells of naive yearning. Drafts of myself spawn in front of me, then eventually walk off and die in some emotional outback, but I guess that’s where we all emerge from to begin with. In How to Wreck a Nice Beach, a book about the history of the vocoder by Dave Tompkins, Roger’s collaborator Bootsy Collins explains that, even for masters, the process of the talk box isn’t entirely comprehensible. “It is a special gift, and it is forbidden for you to know the secrets,” he says. “It will always be a mystery.”
Elena Saavedra Buckley is an associate editor of Harper’s Magazine and The Drift.
Known for their California-inspired furniture designs as much as their architectural practice, Los Angeles-based design studio LAUN is expanding its outdoor Ribbon Collection. Two new pieces – the Ribbon Curved Sofa and the Ribbon Curved Bench – are joining the family of aluminum furniture. Modular in design like the rest of the collection, the curved sofa and bench can be moved around to create various seating situations to suit your needs. They were created by experimenting with the proportions and forms of the original Ribbon collection, allowing for the further expansion of its capabilities.
Ribbon Curved Sofa + Ribbon Curved Bench \\\ Photo: Ye Rin Mok
Ribbon Curved Sofa
Ribbon Curved Bench
Ribbon Chair
Ribbon Lounge Chair
Ribbon Lounge Chair
Ribbon Stool
Ribbon Sofa
Ribbon Sofa
To learn more about the new additions to the Ribbon Collection, visit launlosangeles.com.
Carla and I are excited to go to the 55th California International Antiquarian Book Fair this weekend at the Pasadena Convention Center. It's taking place February 10-12, and it looks like there will be plenty of weird books to ogle and acquire. — Read the rest
If you’ve spent any amount of time on social media the past three years, chances are you’ve run across the cookware brand Our Place. Founded in 2019 by Shiza Shahid, the direct-to-consumer brand has grown from its start-up days to now opening up their second Los Angeles retail location in West Hollywood. After the success of their Mythology-designed Venice location, Our Place turned to Ringo Studio to create a new store on Melrose that complements their designs and ethos. Alongside visually delightful product displays and a color palette that matches the colors of their popular pans, the space includes the Building a Bigger Table Room that exudes their mission to “welcome everyone to have a seat at the table.”
The store is designed as a one-stop shop where customers can check out the brand’s cookware, tableware, and kitchen tools up close. The home-like atmosphere features curated product vignettes that make each piece stand out, almost like a sculptural piece of art.
While the brand started with just one product – the Always Pan – they’ve expanded their line to include the newer Mini Always Pan, Perfect Pot, Mini Perfect Pot, Ovenware Set, dinnerware, drinkware, serveware, and kitchen tools.
The Building a Bigger Table Room features curvy lavender fabric panels that hang from the ceiling, mimicking the curves of the wavy dining table. Mirrored walls give the appearance that the table spans into infinity, thereby making enough room for everyone to have a seat.
To see more from Our Place, visit fromourplace.com.
Photos by Jenna Peffley.
This post contains affiliate links, so if you make a purchase from an affiliate link, we earn a commission. Thanks for supporting Design Milk!
In January 2021, after a sleepover with her best friend, 12-year-old Molly Steinsapir got onto an e-bike in her Los Angeles neighborhood, crashed, and died. Who was responsible for the tragedy? Molly’s parents have sued Rad Power Bikes, a popular e-bike manufacturer. Author Peter Flax examines the thorny legal questions at the heart of the lawsuit and illuminates the potential pitfalls of the e-bike industry’s explosive, largely unregulated growth, in part by speaking with other Rad Power Bike users who, like Flax, have experienced worrying equipment problems:
I started talking to my neighbors. During the pandemic, hundreds of teenagers in my community took to the streets on RadRunners and other inexpensive DTC e-bikes with mechanical disc brakes, and I discovered that many of them were having similar issues. Some parents were clued into the problem and were either scheduling regular maintenance with local shops or learning how to make the fixes at home, while others had no idea that their kids were riding heavy electric bikes that couldn’t stop properly without frequent maintenance. I started a thread on Nextdoor with a summary of the problem and how to address it, and soon I was DMing with parents who wanted tips on barrel and caliper adjustments.
One of my neighbors — his name is Ezra Holland and he lives about five blocks from me — says that almost immediately he started noticing disturbing braking issues with the RadRunner he purchased early in 2022. Two or three weeks after he got it, Holland, an experienced road cyclist, noticed that the responsiveness of the brakes was poor, and he decided to remedy the problem by tightening the cables that run from the levers to the calipers. But he learned that this only bought him a few weeks, and that after tightening those cables a few times, one of the calipers clicked into a different position where there was zero braking action. “That is pretty scary,” he says.
Thus began a year of education, vigilance, maintenance, and communication with Rad. Holland now buys pads in bulk on Amazon; he checks and adjusts both calipers every two weeks, always on alert for a failure. He’s experienced the rear brake fail going downhill and is especially concerned about that happening while his 17-year-old is using the bike. Rad has sent him new brakes and new pads, but Holland says that in his ongoing phone calls with the brand, customer service reps and supervisors have told him that other customers aren’t experiencing braking issues like he has. But he alone knows a half dozen friends and neighbors struggling with the same problems. “I just got to a point where I started questioning my own thinking, because they keep saying I’m wrong,” he says. “I start thinking that maybe I’m just making a fuss here for no reason. Which I think is not fair, because I think it’s not true.”
FreshRSS 
