Til Two Club

It’s 1948 and we are on the corner of Euclid and El Cajon Boulevard in City Heights. Above you is a neon red sign reading “til-two CLUB.” Inside you find a checkered floor and black booths. Fast forward to 2017 and the bar looks exactly the same. You’d never know that between 1948 and now, this location hosted a feisty biker bar, Playhouse, as well as the beauty salon turned Beauty Bar as recently as 2010. Now, Til Two hosts up-and-coming bands, everything from rock to punk to funk. Funk, you say? That’s still a thing?

It was just after 11 on this random Saturday night when we showed up at Til Two. We sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and looked around. Couples cuddling in the booths, a few locals at the bar, some random guy asleep on a pile of suitcases, and the setup for what seemed to be a large band on the stage in back. Every now and then, this chick would wander by, decked out in an astronaut costume, bleach blonde wig and striped knee high socks. You know, the usual. But by midnight with no glimpse of a band, we started to wonder if we missed the show.

Then from the back of the club, DJ Boogieman starts to warm up the crowd with his funkalicious vibes. A lone musician takes the stage behind the keyboard. The lights dim. With a plastic tube dangling from his lips, Throwback Zack emerges from the shadows. Then the fun begins.

Throwback Zack

We’ve all heard a Talkbox. You just may not have known you heard it. That guitar solo in Peter Frampton’s “Do you feel like we do” was created using a talkbox. Tupac’s “California Lovin’” is heavy on the talkbox. Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, they all used it for some pretty memorable songs. How does it work?  Here’s an example: The performer plays some notes on a keyboard. The sound from the keyboard is sent into a plastic tube instead of an amplifier. The tip of the tube is tucked inside the performer’s mouth. By “mouthing” sounds or words, the sound from the keyboard is modulated into a new sound which sounds a lot like a robot voice. This robot voice is picked up by a nearby mic and sent out into the crowd. Here’s an example from Throwback Zach.

Next up, Honey Sauce Band. Remember the astronaut chick? Turns out, she’s Saucy Lady AKA Noe Carmichael AKA frickin’ amazing vocalist for Honey Sauce Band. The band is a self-proclaimed “experimental disco funk band out of Boston.” After about 30 seconds of their music, you realize there is more depth and talent than your average up-and-coming band. These are Berklee trained musicians who will knock your socks off with their improv skills and sheer talent. And did I mention their conga player, Noriko Terada? She was on fire and so animated—she looked like she was having the time of her life!

Honey Sauce Band

What started off as a near miss of a night turned into a crazy introduction into Funk in this City Height’s historical jewel of a bar. Can’t wait for the next. A special thanks to Jenna for convincing me that we should stick around for just a few more minutes, a decision that turned into this surprise of a night.

Honey Sauce Band. Just can’t get enough.

Black Cat Bar

Just to the east of North Park is a neighborhood that seems to go unmentioned in the live music scene.  City Heights.  North of the 94 and east of the 805, City Heights has a long colored history in San Diego.  Formally known as East San Diego, City Heights is made up of 16 different neighborhoods and is home to one of the most densely populated areas of San Diego.  Within its boundaries, you’ll find a population which is over 40% foreign born, hailing from Africa, the Middle East, Asia and Latin America.  Little Saigon finds its home on City Height’s El Cajon Boulevard, mixed in with restaurants serving Ethiopian fare and Mexican street tacos.  Although it is one of the most diverse areas in San Diego, it is also one of the poorest.  The median income for families in City Heights is just over $35,000, barely half of the median income in San Diego county.  And compared to the rest of San Diego county, the crime rate is about 40% higher in City Heights.  That being said, City Heights has the highest concentration of non-profit organizations in San Diego, investing money into community building and education.

Perched on an anonymous corner in City Heights is a darkened bar with a neon red cat glowing in its front window.  Welcome to Black Cat Bar.  Originally built as a bank in the 1920s with the crown molding to prove it, the Black Cat Bar is different than any other bar I’ve seen in San Diego.  It’s too classy to be a dive and too real to be a hipster hangout.  In sum, it’s a good old fashioned bar where people stand around talking, drinking and playing pool.

First up on the Black Cat’s corner stage was Fanny and the Atta Boys. Self-described as American roots, country swing and depression-era jazz, this band made me feel like I had walked into the 1930s.  Their style, their sound, and their vernacular were so amazingly authentic it was like a time machine.  And Fanny’s voice, a brassy mix of Amy Winehouse and Macy Gray, held my attention for the whole set.  Throw in a handful of swing dancers tearing up the make-shift dance floor, and this was a pretty great band.

 

Fanny and the Atta Boys

 

Next came The Resonant Rogues. This duet is a recently married couple named Sparrow and Kevin Smith who hail from Asheville, North Carolina.  A combination of New Orleans Jazz and old Appalachia, their original work pulls scenes from their everyday lives and infuses meaning into moments that would otherwise pass unnoticed.  They touch on race, immigration, politics, love and family.  And they do so with this lightness and ease that makes you wonder if they ever have a bad day.  They are currently on a trip through the national parks on the west coast.  I’m pretty sure they hike with their accordion and sing the entire time.

 

Resonant Rogues

All in all, the night felt like a treat tucked deep within City Heights.  Thanks to Chad for coming on this seedy adventure with me, and answering every question known to man about how record players work.  It’s only a matter of time before my living room is filled with vinyl from all the artists I meet on my adventures with The San Diego Album!

Black Cat Bar

Soda Bar

I’d heard about this place within certain circles since I moved to San Diego.  I pictured soda fountains, tall metal cups filled with milkshakes, and guys in those white paper hats and striped shirts.  Wrong. So Soda Bar is a dive.  Renamed “Soda Bar” in 2008 from it’s previous “Chasers,” Soda Bar strikes me as a dive bar that is trying too hard.  Grunge to the nth degree, the quintessential San Diego beards manning the front door, the bar, and the sound, and judging stares if you order anything other than the latest local craft IPA.  Stacy and I heard three different sets while we were there.  And although the acoustics were atrocious for the first two bands, the third was mesmerizing.

Tow’rs is a band out of Flagstaff, Arizona whose founding members got their start in college Young Life. They now have a band that makes beautiful music with haunting lyrics.  Trumpet, cello, electric guitar and two lead vocalists whose voices mesh as if they come out of one body.  Look these guys up and try not to be transfixed by their words.

Tow’rs on stage at Soda Bar

I’d go back to Soda Bar for the music, which I guess is the idea. It’s a live music joint where you can vibe out with no distractions.  Bare bones music.  I can appreciate that.

Soda Bar divin’

Thanks to Stacy for the nudge to find this place, and for freezing our buns off while we waited for the doors to open!