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Light Years had their van broken into tonight in Chicago, IL on the first night of their tour. Support the band by picking up merch here or picking up tickets to the rest of their tour here. 

*This review was composed by Adrienne Fisher and edited by Erik van Rheenen

So, where did we leave off at the end of Saturday night? Dreary skies, rain soaked attendees, impractical stage mapping and the lingering feeling of “everything was Fall Out Boy and nothing hurt” were some of the hot button issues brought up at the close of the first night of Skate and Surf. FOB’s headline aside, the residual disappointment surrounding planning and execution logistics is truly a shame when considering festival feedback should really zero-in on the bands, not the circumstances. Regardless, the production behind the prodigal Skate & Surf Festival fell quite a few leagues short of the glory days it was meant to reprise, and combined with the weather that cast an uninspiring pall over the weekend, an uncomfortably large chunk of festival-goers were unimpressed with the event on the whole. Sunday’s festivities saw little remediation of Saturday’s issues, both of preventative and non-preventative measures. The misty rain absolutely refused to let up, hanging intrusively over everyone’s heads all weekend and soaking stages and gear alike to the chagrin of the bands slotted to play on the open, uncovered platforms. And, okay - the rain can’t be helped, but the measures taken to accommodate neither bands nor audience seemed to be non-existent and therefore a colossal bummer, as gear lay out in the open protected only with thin plastic sheets, musicians joked nervously about the possibility of getting electrocuted, and kids lacking ponchos hung their heads with not even so much as a pavilion under which to take cover. In light of everything, the bands that were able to bring positive energy to their sets deserve to be praised, as the conditions under which they were performing were considerably less than stellar. Despite heavy sound bleeding between the immediately adjacent side-stages, Giffords Lane stirred up a bit of interest for themselves with an impeccable rendition of “Sweet Child Of Mine” and also by being in middle school, while Hostage Calm laid out hit after hit to an animated gaggle of a crowd unafraid to get a little rowdy on the puddly pavement. One of the most standout sets of the day came from Jersey’s Saves the Day, pillars of support in the punk scene for the last 15 years and still stronger and more gracious than ever this far into the band’s existence. Their set weighed heavily on cuts from Through Being Cool, due to the band’s deferral of song selection to a poll on which fans could vote for the last few months. Tracks like “You Vandal” and “Through Being Cool” that haven’t seen the light of day in years made their return to the stage, and the only downside was that their slot was unexpectedly cut short before they could wrap up with the famously anthematic “At Your Funeral” - but they did end with “This Is Not An Exit,” which may or may not have had this writer in tears from surprise.

Our Producer’s Corner and Perspective series are colliding again with producers Sam Pura. Pura has been the man behind the scenes for records by The Story So Far, Basement, The American Scene, Troubled Coast, and many other bands that we love at POZ. 

Check out what Editor in Chief Erik van Rheenen wrote for our new Perspective with Pura below!

To say Sam Pura likes pandas is an understatement of enormous proportions. His studio, based in sunny Fremont, California, steals its namesake from the cuddly Chinese critter. Heck, even the studio’s branding, a bespectacled bear rocking oversized specs, stems from Pura’s love for pandas. “A lot of studio names feel elitist and weird, and it sounds kind of snobby when you say, ‘Oh, I’m going to name my studio,’” Pura says. “There are names like Atomic Garden, stuff like that. But pandas are awesome, so I was like, ‘fuck it, let’s go with Panda Studios.” But, as is standard for any good name, there’s a story behind the panda. And in Pura’s case, it’s a darn good one. Pura got kicked out of his private Catholic college prep high school — when he was in class, he just wanted to be playing music. But at the behest of his parents, who wanted Pura to attend college, he ended up at the Bay Area Expression College for Digital Arts. That’s where he met the lead singer of the Nerve Agents. “They were this punk band from Berkeley who played all the time with like AFI and Rancid,” Pura excitedly explains. “It was so cool to have their singer in my class.” It didn’t take long for Pura to learn the ropes of game audio and midi before thinking, fuck this. Pura was enamored with the console he saw for the first time at recording school, but he didn’t want to spend all his time behind it. All he wanted to do was record bands. So, in his mom’s garage, he did. “Recording bands in the garage, I realized it didn’t matter if you were in a studio or not,” he says. “But it was my mom’s house, and when you’re recording with bands, you don’t want to hang out with your mom all the time.” So instead of paying attention in class, Pura spent time in class watching the San Diego Zoo’s baby panda webcam. One day, Pura walked into the ECDA cafeteria and saw a flyer hanging up on the wall, emblazoned with his picture: “Calling All Panda Lovers: Sam Pura Is Looking For You.” Glancing over, he caught The Nerve Agents’ singer smirking towards him from across the cafeteria. “I looked at him and thought, ‘you piece of shit,” Pura laughs. “I think I still have the sign somewhere.” The Panda was born. Pura moved into a live-in recording studio, his first real stepping-stone — no offense, Pura household garage — towards owning his own studio. In 2003, the Panda Studios was his. His goal was to make the recording process an experience, (“I want there to be an organic, euphoric vibe”) and from that mindset, Pura developed The Waiting Room, an ongoing live performance series he shoots in Panda Studios. He calls it his labor of love; he shoots The Waiting Room for free. “It’s just a way for bands to have a great time and celebrate what we love about music,” Pura says. “And recording live is a way for me to just wing it instead of being a perfectionist.” The Waiting Room isn’t just a labor of love for Pura: it’s a challenge. He admits to a degree of perfectionism (with a dash of OCD) as a producer, so recording on the fly dares Pura to bring his A-game. “It’s my way to force myself not to overanalyze and be a perfectionist,” Pura says. “But it’s just really cool to see bands do such creative things. When a band has its chemistry down, it’s hard to put into words.” As a studio perfectionist, Pura readily admits that his biggest setback is not hitting deadlines for record due dates. “I’ll say, ‘you’ll get a song in two days, and I’ll make it that much better!’” Pura laughs. His goal is to give the albums he produces a kind of longevity. He guesses that he’s listened to the new The Story So Far album, What You Don’t See, about 1,000 times and still manages to find 2 or 3 complaints with his own work. But his self-diagnosed studio OCD means that he notices things that most listeners might not catch. Pura tries to be really natural, and his records reflect that organic attitude. 

Spotted at Vinnie’s Pizzeria in Brooklyn.

#that fucking awesome moment when your best friend stays at school for christmas because he knows you’ve got nothing to go home to and he wants you to be happy