Miles Kurosky’s Silver Lining: The Smell

Portland, Ore.-based Miles Kurosky is what old-time journalists used to call a “great quote.” He’s one of the few interview subjects you’ll find in the music biz these days who’s totally unafraid to step on a few toes to get his point across. And he’s got the musical chops to back up his shoot-from-the-hip posture. Kurosky’s previous band, Beulah, was a true California original, good enough to catch the ear of pop genius Robert Schneider of Apples In Stereo, who released the first Beulah album under the banner of the Elephant 6 collective. As is the case with other creative one-man shows (Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle, for example) the transition from band to solo career is as simple as painting a new name on the office’s glass door. The Desert Of Shallow Effects (Majordomo) is every bit as exhilarating as anything Kurosky has ever cut. Kurosky will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new Q&A with him and more about Beulah.

Kurosky: The first time I met Jim Smith, the proprietor of The Smell in Los Angeles, was in a grocery store across from our school. We were 14 years old and both waiting in line to buy ice-cream cones. I walked up to him and told him that I liked his shoes, which were called “monkey boots.” At the time, I dressed really normal and played on the football team, so naturally Jim thought I was giving him shit. His response was a long sigh, which if translated into English would’ve been something like, “Oh man, not again. School’s over. Please just leave me alone.” It took awhile to convince him that I wasn’t gonna beat him up and that I was sincerely interested in his shoes. I explained that I was only “weird on the weekends” because I was too chicken to be “alternative” at school. See kids, the folks at American Apparel would have you believe that the ’80s were fun with all that neon and acid wash. Let me tell you, if you saw Day-Glo, acid wash, topsiders or Ray-Bans coming your way, you’d better run ‘cause you were about to get your ass kicked by Johnny Lawrence or, even worse, James Spader. It was a fucking miserable decade, especially for oddballs. Every day was like walking through a minefield. Anyway, I won’t go on, but needless to say Jim and I became fast friends.

Years later, I moved away and vowed never to return to L.A. Jim stayed. He got a job with UPS, but kept busy at night with an all-ages club he started in the Valley. When we were kids, we had nowhere to go. In hindsight, it’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a proper all-ages venue in a city of 10 million. Most clubs in Los Angeles had a long standing policy of “pay to play,” and no bands we loved were about to pay for that “privilege.” For young freaks like me and Jim, Los Angeles was literally a teenage wasteland. That’s why I’m really proud of him. He stuck it out and made something really unique and lasting in a city full of mass-produced faux-crap waiting to be bulldozed for new, more improved faux-crap. The Smell, in my opinion, has become something of an institution and an indispensable part of the artistic community in the city of angels. It gives me great joy to say that my childhood friend had the vision to see through all the smog.

Video after the jump.