There's a lot to love and hate about Los Angeles, but here's a positive: countless music makers, from rockstars and metal gods to the pop girlies of the week, live (and often spend time) in the area. The result is that, every now and then, L.A. throws a night where a veritable buffet of world-class musicians come out to have fun. I attended the 2026 Bass Magazine Awards on January 22nd, one of those very nights.

Five bassists received awards this year – Blu DeTiger, Marcus Miller, Khruangbin low-ender Laura Lee, Primus leader Les Claypool, and Mike Dirnt of Green Day. DeTiger and Lee became "The Future of Bass," while the three dudes scooped up Lifetime Achievement titles. This being Los Angeles, a heap of special guests populated the venue (The Observatory, in Santa Ana) to spice things up.

By no means was this a typical "gig" for anyone on the roster. I overheard a crowd member named Nick commenting on the lack of a merch table, for instance. He and I got to discussing the unique nature of this event. Nick flipped when I informed him that Mark Hoppus, of Blink-182, would be presenting an award. There was further talk that Green Day, in totality, would play a few songs.

A quarter-hour after things were set to start (L.A. and "on time" don't mix), Bass Magazine editor Jon D'Astoria came out to get things going. He dedicated the night to Anthony Jackson, a bass extraordinaire who died last year. A medley of his work played over the sound system, including snippets of O'Jays classic "For the Love of Money" and Steely Dan's "Glamour Profession". All the while, all-time bassists, such as Victor Wooten and Leland Sklar, entered the stage.

Excitement built. Further words of tribute, including some from Wooten, clashed with the low-end rumblings we clamored to hear.

Yes, I can admit the night had a slow start. If things were more punctual, and the honorary words a little more succinct, perhaps there would not have been such an antsy feeling throughout the crowd for damn near an hour. Oh, well, it's my one and only complaint.

Around 45 minutes into the evening, the live music finally kicked off, courtesy of the night's first winner, DeTiger. She found a new fan in this writer – her music smartly blends vocal pop, house, and nasty bass runs.

Miller followed DeTiger, but he really should have closed the night; the truth is that Miller doesn't sell tickets like Green Day does. The belief in my area of the crowd (and the belief of, say, Claypool) was that he was the star of the show. Miller is more of an "if you know, you know" bass player, but, God almighty, he smoked. If his hands had been matches, and his bass had been kindling, Santa Ana's Observatory would have burned to the ground.

Throughout the night, the "big performances" and award presentations were interspersed with solo sets by other bassists. My favorite, by Scott Mulvahill, incorporated an instrument of his own design called the DataBass, which features MIDI samplers attached to the body – very clever stuff.

Next up to bat: Khruangbin, with a set heavy on the smoke and vibes, light on the lighting. I wish I had a joint and some friends around a campfire for this one. Lee is not prone to "lead" bass playing like Miller and DeTiger, but she was smooth as eff.

I loved seeing Khruangbin, who served as an effective palate cleanser before Primus. In totally different ways, Khruangbin's Lee and Primus' Claypool act as the signature flavors of their respective bands.

Metallica's Rob Trujillo and Tool's Justin Chancellor came out to present Claypool with his award. They were pumped up, probably a bit boozy, and set the stage for the most fun-filled set of the night.

After their first song, Primus brought out two more bassists – Chancellor and Dirnt – for "Too Many Puppies". Trujillo got in on the action, too, coming out for "My Name Is Mud". How could you top that? Claypool fangirling as Miller jammed with him on "Tommy the Cat", bringing Primus' theatrics to an end. I caught a glimpse of Chancellor's rhythm section buddy, Tool's Danny Carey, backstage. Such a shame he didn't join in!

Even so, I could have left there, and been totally satisfied. However, there was one more award... for Mr. Green Day himself.

As the prophecy foretold, Hoppus helped present the trophy, recalling how Dirnt offered regular words of support during Hoppus' recent cancer battle.

In the moments following Dirnt's acceptance speech, it was time to end the night with Green Day. Unlike the anything-goes Primus bonanza, the Bay Area punk legends ripped through a pretty straight-ahead set. What a capper.

After overcoming a dirge-like opening pace, the night recovered itself, blossoming into a rose of bass. I chatted with one of the venue workers as I exited, a young fan of Green Day. While I am not a Green Day enthusiast, her tangible elation proved a truth: the Bass Magazine Awards had some high-end low end for everyone.

All photos (except header) by the author.