Blue Jungle resuscitate the state

PHOTO by ILANA SHULMAN

“We’re into the things that went bad in this world,” says Blue Jungle guitarist Cory Hurricane. When asked for an example, Hurricane first suggests Charles Manson, then himself. Hearing no objection from the rest of the band, it’s safe to assume they agree: Blue Jungle is great music about going bad. Singer Lately Blu Blu and Argentina-born guitarist Nosebleed (who also co-runs Los Angeles’ L’Keg Gallery, both a show space and art venue) first conceived Blue Jungle as a kind of gag band, originally making tongue-in-cheek goth music; but invariably the joke took over, and the label didn’t wash. Blue Jungle’s music is dark, sure, but not hopeless: for every morose, minor-key slow burner on their debut LP Baby Don’t Cry, a major sits waiting inside the next track ready to elevate your deflated spirit. (Not that they lack an excuse to be dark, evil and spooky: Hurricane and Lately Blu Blu met inside a South Central juvenile detention center before later becoming neighbors and, eventually, bandmates.)

The music they create sounds weirdly spiritual. Take, for instance, the moment the first chord is strummed on “Oh Suicide” (Baby Don’t Cry’s epiphanic opener): we’re dropped into a delirious half-realm of consciousness, fading in and out among the simultaneously desperate and dreamlike vocals of Paley King and Lately Blu Blu; euphoric church organs; and loud, punchy drums—all awash in miles and miles of echo. I like Blue Jungle for kind of the same reason I never got into Mazzy Star: energy. Where Mazzy Star excelled in lush, gorgeous dream pop, they failed in passion. Blue Jungle certainly don’t lack in that area, as exhibited on “Mean Things,” which in fact one-ups passion with aggression in the vein of bands like Gun Club, Psychedelic Furs and Rain Parade.

As tied into Los Angeles as the band is, Blue Jungle remains too ethereal for our neck of the woods. But without some fresh air, our state would suffocate. Blue Jungle resuscitates California.

The District Weekly: You started out as just two members. Now you’re six. Why keep adding?
Lately Blu Blu: So we can have more drinking buddies! We’re growing each month. Nosebleed: The real reason is ’cause we want more people on the guest list. Plus, more drink tickets! More drink tickets! Cory Hurricane: We’re so good of a band that we’re just functional.

What do you say when people call you goth?
NB: We laugh when we hear it.
LBB: I smile. We still get a kick out of it because we get shoegaze shows and all that. CH: We ask them if they’re high. We actually bring in fans from our other shows, and it’s a completely different crowd!

What’s the biggest advantage to wearing high heels on stage?
LBB: It’s great at poking eyes and stepping on people! You take ’em by surprise and step on both of their toes as hard as you can. Plus, it’s the advantage of looking good!

How did Lately and Cory end up in juvenile hall?
NB: We can’t tell you how they got in there. Sorry.
CH: Wait until the next album, though! We’re in the studio right now. There might be some songs about juvie in there.

What are your songs about?
LBB: They were about the American dream. It was more like the nasty American dream. And since Nosebleed was a part of it and the people in our band were part of this wave of immigration, we sang songs about how it’s all gonna be better. But then we realized that it’s a terrible thing, we don’t want to be a part of the American dream. Booze, sex, I guess. What else?
CH: All the difficulties of being a pervert!

BLUE JUNGLE WITH THE GROWLERS, SOME DAYS AND DJ FRANKIE ALVARO ALEX’S BAR | 2913 E ANAHEIM ST | LONG BEACH 90804 | 562.434.8292 | ALEXSBAR.COM | THURS | $5 | 21+

Tags: alex's bar, baby don't cry, blue jungle, l'keg, Long Beach, Music