Paul T. Bradley
Paul T. Bradley has written for L.A. Weekly since 2011. He is a Silver Lake-based former ditch-digger and he owns a 2004 Jetta (1.8 turbo).
2 months ago | Culture
It’s 9 a.m. on a late-June Saturday deep in North Hills and temperatures are already somewhere between “fuck this” and “I can’t even.” Lining one side of a high school track that encircles a football field, there are pop-up canopies covering hodge...
2 months ago | Charity Case
When we think of rockers from any era who left us before their time, we tend to follow the same well-worn script. Died young-ish? Clearly drugs, drink and Keith Richards-level hard living were to blame. Exactly like your parents warned you about. ...
4 months ago | People 2016
During his tight five on Conan last year, Solomon Georgio joked, “Just to let you know, I am openly gay — most of the time. I took a break for Martin Luther King Day. Sometimes you just want to be black and nothing else.” Sure, black and gay are t...
On the fringes of the Empire Polo Club during Coachella, many thrifty and unhinged souls opt to camp out of doors. In prefabricated tents. Certainly it makes sense for the type of uncivilized folks who care little for cleanliness, order, and respe...
Listen, Coachella. We love you. You know that. And when we criticize, it comes from a place of love. And OK, maybe a place of being pissed about not being able to see some of our favorite bands due to preventable logistical issues. And tall people...
Coachella, man. Wow. Like a fine wine, you just keep getting better with age. After gorging ourselves on Sumo Dogs and indie-pop, dancing ourselves dusty, head-banging to Death Grips and "Welcome to the Jungle," and maybe drinking a beer or seven,...