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What a Street Festival Is Like

There are a few universal truths about every city's street festival.

Hitting up one of any city's street festivals, you know two things for sure: 1.) You will pay $7 for corn that is on a stick and somehow soggy but also completely charred at the same time (and then you will want another); 2.) It doesn't matter how psyched you are for the one or two bands on the bill you actually like, they are never going to be as good as you want them to be. I mean, you snuck in and didn't even pay the $5 "donation." What did you expect? No matter, there are always going to be a few wild cards out there that trump any expectations you poured along with the vodka into your fun-times Sprite bottle.

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Take, for instance, this Christian rock cover band. When the Eagle Rock Music Festival closed down their church's street for sanctioned performances, these guys decided to hold their own mini side concert. They covered "Grenade" by Bruno Mars, except they changed the lyrics to make them all Jesus-y. For instance:

Salvation is a gift and you tossed it in the trash
Oh the devil is a liar! He never did love you.
Christ hung on a cross for you
He took a nail through his hands for you
He bled out his veins for you
Christ died so you could be saved
Would you do the same?

(Yes, I stood there taking notes way too long. Moving on.)

You have no idea how freaking loud and trebled-out this hair salon rave was.

Totes hitting up these babes next time I need to get out of jail.

The only photo worth taking—or even possible to take—at the Low End Theory stage. So crowded and full of weed smoke over there (not that I'm complaining). Plus, it was a refreshing fashion break from the suede fringe burnout velvet Navajo jewelry long-haired cocaine sluts in Tom Petty hats slinking around all over Los Angeles. Make. It. Stop.

Far right: This guy's homemade Einstürzende Neubauten/EMF pants are pretty awesome. Plus, there's something kind of cute about aging rock dudes facing each other to check out how hard they're rocking. One thing that is not acceptable is when guys put the guitar sideways out of their crotch and play it like they're jerking off. That is 100 percent super weird, and there was a lot of that happening on this stage.

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Everyone was PUMPED for this Pilates studio.

Ha! A bit of "festival humor" there. No, those people showed up for HEALTH, and yes, this was the best photo I could take without joining the teen mosh pit, which isn't something I wanted to do. By the way, this is actually the only way you are allowed to play guitar: thrashing. It doesn't matter if you are not actually shredding. Grow out your hair and freak out like it's speed metal. Chicks like it.

Look, these guys have been playing this exact same balcony of this motel for ten years, OK? Zydeco will NEVER DIE!

Hot Los Angeles band alert: Pharaohs. Trust. Piccolo sax and motivational techno. Douggpound, my festival buddy for the night, said they sound like Kenny G joined Kraftwerk.

All that Pharaohs biz and whatnot on the Dublab stage was fine and good, but it was nothing compared to what lay right around the corner. Is that a pink sparkly shirt and skin-tight poly bellbottoms on what may possibly be a 60-year-old man? Holy. Shit.

Why yes, yes it is. Extra bonus: concha belt and VPL.

OMG, it's a Neil Diamond cover band! This is striking gold at a street festival.

As is being accosted by two awesome party cougars covered in glitter.

We fully rocked out to "Coming to America."

"Backstage."

And once you meet this dude, you know your festival experience is complete.

Follow Liz Armstrong on Twitter.