The Thousands

After several consecutive, non-consensual, faux-hawk incidents executed by suburban mall barbers in my youth I’ve been cutting my own hair for the past ten years. And don’t get me started on those trendy chains where they go so far as to liquor you up before perpetrating folicular date rape. Most barbers simply can’t be trusted with your most essential aesthetic asset but something tells me Summer Bousaab is an exception.

Summer has spent more than a decade cutting hair across continents and maybe just as long collecting the kitsch curiosities that line the walls of Electric Brain. The single chair shopfront is decked out with collectibles from box fresh Rat Fink figurines to framed Garbage Pail Kids cards and the ’50s B-movie aesthetic is a refreshing change from the hard wood interiors of some more dudely competitors.

Thirteen years experience at 25 bucks a trim make Electric Brain a competent and competitive contender to cut your cramps coiffure or Frankenstein flat-top.