Daily Loaf

When it comes to music, I’m a creature of habit. My record collection, and by record I mean vinyl, is still organized neatly in a cabinet waiting for the day I can find a stylus for my antique Technics turntable. Until then, I have learned to live with an iPod, which I own only because my 12-year-old son purchased a new one and shamed me into taking his hand-me-down MP3 player. Although I have given in to this new digital techno-magic, my taste in music has not come so far. The collection on my iPod reflects many years of listening to songs repeatedly and filtering out those that don’t make the cut. It’s a very exclusive group that I make changes to about as often as a Clear Channel radio station changes its own playlists (read: not very much). Adding a new song to my iPod is a major step for me and one that I do not take lightly. In the event I die while enjoying my music, I don’t want some paramedic picking up my headset and remarking that it must have been the shit I was listening to that killed me. With that said, I trust you’ll understand that the addition of Primal Incantation to my eternal playlist is a very big deal. Read the rest of this entry »

The Dunedin Wines the Blues Festival wrapped up its 18th year on Saturday with an old school blues show by John Lee Hooker, Jr., son of the legendary bluesman John Lee Hooker.  John Lee, Jr. hit the stage in true blues style, dressed in a dark hat, sunglasses and a vest, and quickly brought the at-capacity crowd to its feet. Backed by a four-piece band, Hooker started the set with “The People Want a Change,” from his Grammy-nominated release, All Odds Against Me, and continued to turn out the blues for nearly two hours. In addition to a wide variety of originals and blues standards, Hooker also managed to squeeze in a song or two by his famous father, which brought the crowd to its feet again. Caught up in the excitement, several women even felt the urge to join Hooker on stage, which John Lee seemed to enjoy. In all, this year’s blues festival set a new bar for musical quality, due largely to the inclusion of John Lee Hooker, Jr. It will be interesting to see how festival organizers plan to keep up this level of quality entertainment in the coming years.

For more Tampa area concert info, follow Jeff on Twitter.

With absolutely no idea of what to expect, I headed into the Orpheum this past Thursday night to see Captured by Robots. Now, truthfully, I did take a few minutes to check out the band’s website so I could prepare myself for the performance, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Taking the stage in chains, a leather bondage mask with protruding eyeballs and disemboweled entrails hanging from a bloody t-shirt, robot abductee JBOT conducted his Teddy Bear Orchestra while whipping the crowd into a motivationally-charged frenzy. In addition to JBOT, the band consists of GTRBOT66 (who plays a double-neck Flying V), percussionist AUTOMATON, drummer DRMBOT0110, The Headless Hornsmen, The Ape Which Hath No Name and finally Son of Ape Which Hath No Name.  Bear in mind that JBOT is the only living creature on the stage; the rest are “real” robots. The band’s set consisted of 80’s rock and pop covers, including a decent rendition of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” As for JBOT himself, he was kind of like a cross between Andy Kaufman, Jim Henson and Dale Carnegie. Believe me, it’s a frightening combination. Read the rest of this entry »

4:30 p.m. – Yin

Driving into the parking lot of Ruth Eckerd Hall this past Friday for a late afternoon “meet & greet” with blues/rock guitarist Joe Bonamassa, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Admittedly, I wasn’t that familiar with his work and I felt a bit unprepared. Beyond recent media blips about his appearance at the Royal Albert Hall, and some hasty Internet research, I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t have a single intelligent thing to ask. I resigned myself to keeping my mouth shut and taking pictures.

As I waited in the Green Room at REH with about a dozen avid fans, I noticed they’d come prepared. Most had tickets, t-shirts or magazines ready for an autograph, while one guy even clutched a limited edition Joe Bonamassa Gibson Les Paul in a case that looked as though it had never been opened. I wondered if spending nearly his entire life in the public eye would make Joe one of those rock stars who take all of the attention in stride or if it had made him intolerant of rabid fans, autograph seekers and the media. Since I wasn’t sure which way it would go, I slid my camera backpack around to the front, in order to block any crazed, Britney-like attacks on the paparazzi that might be forthcoming. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s depressing to think that much of the music I grew up with and love is now considered classic rock. The name “classic rock” evokes an image of elderly rockers, banging out overplayed tunes that can often be heard in the aisles of the local Publix. I suppose I take it a bit personally because I don’t think of myself as old. But, as my daughter once pointed out, most old people don’t. It’s a disturbing trend that goes right along with the recent revelation that my first car, a 1975 Mustang, is now considered an antique and items from my childhood show up on Antiques Roadshow from time to time. Maybe, when I finally give in to old age, these things won’t affect me so much. But don’t expect that to happen any time soon.

Friday night’s triple bill at the Ford Amphitheatre featured REO Speedwagon, Styx and Nightranger, all of whom qualify for the classic rock moniker. Still, despite this branding, these three bands managed to convince thousands of people to hand over their hard-earned money in exchange for a few hours of music and fun. In these tough economic times, that have seen the cancellation of many big name tours, this feat is one that should not be dismissed as a fluke or written off as a trip down memory lane. This was an old fashioned rock show that had the crowd on their feet dancing and screaming all night long. Even the weather held out and offered comfortable temperatures and a cool breeze.

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Dee Snider of Twisted Sister

The last time that I saw Dee Snider was during breakfast at the Hard Rock Hotel in Orlando. While I was forced to make small talk with some Backstreet Boy (don’t ask me which one), Dee discussed high finance with my wife, who is a bank vice-president. Lacking Dee’s usual makeup and rampant abuse of the English language, breakfast was a less-than-surreal affair. I spent most of the time asking Lance or Kirk or Brad or whatever his name was, why he was wearing fake tattoo sleeves, instead of getting the real thing. He finally got tired of my badgering and left me to enjoy my coffee, while Dee went off to cook omelets or something.

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