Scruffy hair, consistently blasé attitude, alcoholic tendencies and an affliction for acid, Dom is the modern, hipster-adaptation of what the 70s would have called a ‘rock star.’ Ask this guy a question about him or his band (also named Dom) and his answers are consistently insane, stories buried in blurry adventures that make the average party animal out to be a complete square.
Dom (the band) is totally fuzzed-out, alt-rock, ripped and ragged in all the right soft spots. Dom (the dude, who doesn’t give out his last name due to his undisclosed financial debts) fronts the group with addictive boy-ish vocals that slide effortlessly over the buzzy keyboard and guitar combo. Song lyrics are misleading; “Jesus” hides the pains of love lost and “Bochicha” doubles as an anthem for Dom’s beloved feline (check out his Facebook page) and a Massachusetts hockey team.
The internet is stocked with Dom quotes about his ambitions to join Lil’ Wayne’s posse, make artful porn and collaborate with sparkly celebrities, ie Taylor Swift and Mariah Carey, to which he's getting closer-- Gucci Mane rapped on one of his tracks and alt goddess Madeline Follin of Cults has been providing some vocals and collaborations as of late.
He’s got gripes about growing up as both a foster child and a ginger kid. He parties with strangers a lot and ends up in strange situations on a daily basis. Similar to the fearless honey badger (my new favorite YouTube critter), he just doesn't give a shit. It’s hard to tell when this kid is making a joke or just fucking with you. Maybe there isn’t a difference.
So what does a hipster rock star do all day? I managed to catch Dom on the phone as he cruised in a van to Santa Cruz, and while he doesn’t like to have a daily agenda, he’s got a long list of preferred activities.
Last weekend's activities: LA. Dropped some acid with friends. Hung out with some randoms. “One million beers.” Chilled at the beach.
When he’s not on tour: Wake up. Friends come over with alcohol. Eat acid. Get high. Make hip-hop beats in our little studio. Go to friend’s Frat house.
In the winter: “Somedays I wouldn’t leave the house— or my bed. I was like Brian Wilson, spending 20 hours at a time in bed."
In the summer: See category ‘when he’s not on tour:’ Ride the bike path. Swim in the river. Mosey into town.
His only regrets about this rock star lifestyle: “I may never be able to have a dog or a girlfriend.” Suggested options of a handbag-trained Chihuahua and multiple part-time girlfriends were rejected without hesitation-- something about animal cruelty and empty relationships.
A compassionate rock star, honest about his feelings? Rock on.
w/Heavy Hawaii and Melted Toys
Wed/30, 8pm, $10
155 Fell St, SF
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