Beatles, Jon Brion, David Lynch, Portishead, David Bowie, The Smiths, Morrissey, Suede, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Tom Waits, Nina Simone, Gershwin, Schubert, Busby Berkeley, Flaming Lips, Wilco, Spiritualized, Travis, Radiohead, Elliott Smith, Rufus Wainwright, Ben Folds, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Ginsberg, Edgar Allan Poe...
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Mr. Michael Mangia doesn't mind digging around in the Hollywood dirt to celebrate the beauty that lurks in the dark, clandestine corners, underneath bedsheets and facelifts. Think of him as the David Lynch of the LA music scene, trafficking in catchy melodies and billowing piano parts to tell stories of the sordid and the beautiful. As a live perfomer, Michael engages whether singing a slow-burning ballad or an arsenic-laced break-up song, and his charming stage show always incorporates a dash of the experimental. You never know when Michael's expressive bariitone and lush piano-playing will be accompanied by vintage slides, a pink megaphone, a tap dancer or a small orchestra.
Okay, so I thought the little music player thingy I had was the regular default one but EVIDENTLY it is not, so I now have the regular old fashioned music playah, fo yooo da hatah!! Happy?? Gahhhh!!!!
What a'ya talkin' about, weirrrdo???? That's jut the default player thingy? I didn't pick dat sheeeit! Who cares! Anway, I'm getting wayyy pumped about this weekend! It's gonna be swank-tastic!
Please assure Grumpy Sam that his hugely exaggerated eyes (obvious surgical intervention) and odd glowing aura do not spook us, and we will gladly face off in a creepiness battle with him. Name the place, Grumpy Sam.
