With 232 pages and an expanded 12″ by 12″ format, our biggest print issue yet celebrates the people, places, music, and art of our hometown, including cover features on David Lynch, Nipsey Hussle, Syd, and Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records, plus Brian Wilson, Cuco, Ty Segall, Lord Huron, Remi Wolf, The Doors, the art of RISK, Taz, Estevan Oriol, Kii Arens, and Edward Colver, and so much more.




Photo by Michael Muller. Image design by Gene Bresler at Catch Light Digital. Cobver design by Jerome Curchod.
Phoebe Bridgers makeup: Jenna Nelson (using Smashbox Cosmetics)
Phoebe Bridgers hair: Lauren Palmer-Smith
MUNA hair/makeup: Caitlin Wronski
The Los Angeles Issue

Dijon, Baby
On the follow-up to his 2021 debut, Dijon Duenas lays glitchy, psychedelic textures atop his familiar alt-R&B sound to evoke a fractured internet-like aesthetic that’s often mesmerizing.

Rich Brian, Where Is My Head?
The edgy but earnest Indonesian-American rapper further leans into his identity on his first album in six years, welcoming a variety of guests on his trek through self-actualization.

Marissa Nadler, New Radiations
The gothic songwriter’s latest collection of bad-dream vignettes feels like a return to the mold she was cast in as she wrestles with the current state of her country through obscured lyrics.
Carrie Courogen

The songwriter discusses the importance of sharing women’s stories and how her first album in over a decade grew from the soil of her 1993 debut.

The Japanese director talks about his English (and French) language debut.

Based on a true story written by Shia LaBeouf while in rehab, the film was both triggering and cathartic for the creative team.

The actor’s fourth book of photography takes the viewer on a road trip through middle America.

The indie King of Slack just released an electronic album, but assures us he’s still the same person.

The Japanese band is rocketing into the West with a full-blown stylistic vision firmly in place. And that vision doesn’t include any preconceived notions of what it means to be “cute.”

The group’s debut—and the riot grrrl movement at large—feels more vital than ever.

Lindsey Jordan’s first full-length has no shortage of adolescent angst—she’s only nineteen, after all—but the indie rock prodigy is maturing fast.