On your typical Wednesday afternoon, Interzone Records is a bit crowded, with plenty of high schoolers looking to spnd their hard-earned allowance money on music. A red-haired boy is standing at the counter, checking bags in exchange for playing cards. A great big middle-aged biker stands at the register, ringing up orders, while Enid stands between the aisles with an armload of CD's, returning them to their appropriate bins. The sound system plays Soul Coughing, and the yellow-haired girl sings along to "Screen Writer's Blues" while she returns Iggy Pop and BT where they belong. "It is five am," she drawls, "And you are listening to Los Angeles."