La La Land: Part four
As street artist HUSH hits the loco land of LA for his first solo show Stateside, King Adz joins him to document the ride.
More like this...
WHOOP WHOOP... IT’S THE SOUND OF THE POLICE...
Okay... alright... Things are getting heavy on the West side...
I spend the day hanging out with screen-writer Trevor Miller, author of cult 1980’s rave book Trip City
Then I bowl back to Hollywood and we hook up with an oke (who will have to remain nameless for legal reasons, as you'll see later) and this person is, like, totally connected and takes us out to the Rainbow Rooms (see how the local parlance is slipping in) — a throwback to the LA of the 1980s, full of hairspray rockers and their bleach blond bimbos, all trying to party like it's 1985 and it's still cool to be doing bales of coke and letting rip to Mötley Crüe. It's a weird trip and we get to hang out with Ron Jeremy, who is a mate of our guide. The place, in my opinion, is a fucking smelly hole full of wankers. I get ID'd on the way in and I tell the guy I'm fucking well old. “Just look at his eyes,” our guide tells him and the bouncer lets us in. Yeah, cheers mate...
So we eat some moody pizza and the waitress begins to diss us and it goes off somewhat and we have to leave in a hurry and then the car is dead. I turn the key and nada... We're trying to make a quick getaway and I have to go back in with my tail between my legs and try and rustle up some jump leads...
I luck out and a couple of body builders (natch) have the leads and we drive back to the gallery. I'm in and out of the place keeping the chevvy running as I'm trying to get the battery charged, and I keep seeing police driving by. I finally get everyone back into the cars (we are a few strong by this point) and do a rubber-duck style convoy into the night.
We pile into the car and drive off to somplace else (club, bar, joint – they’re all the same to me by this point in the game) I drive around the corner and then there is a ‘WHOOP WHOOP’ and the red and blues are flashing in my rear-view... and I'm getting pulled.
“Shit! I better swallow these pills I got on me,” yelps our guide. Pills?! Where the fuck did they come from?
I get out of the car and the nice policeman yells at me to get the fuck back into the car. I get back in and he bowls over, flashlight in hand and I know things have gotten outta hand. He quizzes me about who, what, when, where, how and gives me a sobriety test (which I pass as I've not had a drink since 2002) and then he examines my eyes for signs of other drugs. All I can think about is how the car stinks of weed.
I play it pretty strict – indignant Englishman abroad – with the cop and when he asks me for ID I tell him that it’s back at my apartment as there is no need for me to walk around with my passport. He shines the torch around the car checking everyone out and after a beat that lasts for ever, he steams off and we drive away.
HUSH has turned white and is suddenly sober. He has a show tomorrow night and he has to be at liberty to attend. Right?
Subscribe to HUCK for six issues
Only £20 (UK) / £43 (EU) / £58 (Rest of the World).
La La Land: Part four (text) by King Adz is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Comments (2)
Please note: Your comment may be held in moderation for approval by an administrator to prevent spamming. This usually doesn't take long, please be patient.