Paul Barker is playing upstairs at The Slipper Clutch, in a tiny, attic-like space covered with murals and old show flyers. It’s loud, and I forgot my earplugs, so I hang out towards the back of the room, which is what I did when I saw Ministry many years ago— back when Barker was in the band— at a show that ranks at number 2 on the list of loudest concerts I’ve ever attended. This show at Slipper Clutch, however, isn’t as much of a raucous. The raw and rhythmic music is comfortably booming where I stand. 

As for the vibe, it’s one that I’ve always known, the fringe of L.A. nightlife. It’s also one that I often fear is edging closer to extinction because there are fewer independent spaces in L.A. and fewer events that are more about the music than whatever shit went viral last week. And, in the most pessimistic moments, I think that there are simply fewer people who are interested in leaving the house and taking the chance on something that an algorithm didn’t send their way.