Some band from Los Angeles called Ozomatli had a run-in with the cops downtown a couple nights ago when they took their usual conga line finale bit outside the club where they were playing, apparently in violation of the city's noise ordinance. Since it was after 2 AM, the cops told them to stop playing ---and one of them refused, which turned the situation from uptight to blown-out. Lots of pepper-spraying and head-knocking ensued, winding three members of the group and its entourage up in the pokey.
Once again, this town, which styles itself the "live music capital of the world," is about as amenable to spontaneity and rowdiness as suburban Waco. Okay, so the cops were simply enforcing the rules on the books, but this week is supposed to be ours to bask in the wonderful glow of the nation's (and world's) music press. We've got a thousand-plus bands here from every corner of the globe and we're supposed to be showing how hip and bat-shit hospitable we are. And we'd better be: these people are blowing many millions of dollars on this thing.
I don't know all the details of why the one guy in the band didn't lay off. One of the local news stations said that Ozomatli has a reputation for what I would call the manufacture of anecdote. And they have a penchant for "activism," which I fear, when I finally get around to looking at their website, is going to have something to do with the mistreatment of indigenous peoples by the dominant white power structure. Oh, yeah.
Anyway, I am terribly sorry that these kids got beat up and sprayed, but it's only because our city's cops aren't what they used to be. They're a rather straitened lot, much like the politicians who command them.
And the locals down there who don't want any noise? You picked a tough place to be, you nouveaux riche assholes. Next time out, find a slightly less conspicuous locale to announce that you've "made it."
But, the award for Least Able to Keep Her Shit Together in this whole affair is Ozomatli's manager, Sue Blackman-Romero, who was just blubbering like a ferry accident survivor. Jesus, woman! Get a grip! I might have cried, too, after spending a day behind bars, but you've got to maintain. Unless, of course, that whole thing was performance art. Uh, oh....