Photos by: Rebecca Carter

There are few venues more appropriate for a Social Distortion show then the Hampton Beach Casino. The rundown, yet kitschy main drag was as packed with fans rocking Social D shirts as it was with fried dough stands and arcades.

Photo by: Alex Verron 

Sun poured in through the trees, creating speckled spots of shade as fans lined up outside Central Park SummerStage to catch a free Sunday afternoon concert, courtesy of Himalayas, The Cat Empire and Brazilian Girls. The gates opened just before 3pm and throngs of music-lovers flooded the venue, filling the artificial turf with a patchwork quilt of blankets, tapestries, beach towels and hand-woven Guatemalan serapes, some bathing in the afternoon warmth, others picnicking on pasta salad and hummus.

Photos by: Rebecca Carter

The Aggrolites don’t look like your stereotypical reggae band. Opting for matching red jump suits over dreadlocks, they took the stage at the Middle East looking more like Devo then the early roots reggae acts whose influences they embrace.

Currently on tour in support of their third album, Reggae Hit L.A., The Aggrolites delivered a performance reminiscent of the early days of the reggae/ska combo, back before ska became homogenized into one mainstream, happy-go-lucky beat (exemplified by opening act The Stolen Records who butchered what they presumably felt to be an obligatory Operation Ivy cover).

Packing two drummers, two guitarists, a bassist, and a vibraphonist on a tiny stage may provide for visual clutter, but in the case of the Grimace Federation there is infinite space in their musical delivery. Providing a brief yet engrossing performance at the Knitting Factory’s main stage, this young Philadelphia sextet gave a glimpse into the future of what live music can ultimately become.

Grimace can be likened to a theatrical performance, two drummers situated front and center facing each other, battling their kits with ferocity. A vibraphonist switches back and forth between keys and mallets while two guitarists stand back, juxtaposed by a bassist. It’s visually stunning, a modern Stomp sans tap dancing but packed with just as much directed energy.