Posted by Joel Weiss on Jul. 31, 2009, at 11:39 am
Shitty concert etiquette can destroy what could otherwise be an out-of-this-world concert experience. I’ve attended hundreds of metal, rock, and punk shows and witnessed all manner of drunken douchebaggery. The more intense the show, the more idiocy you’ll have to put up with.
I’m not a people person. I don’t go to shows to get shitfaced. I don’t go to shows to intentionally collide with people galloping in a sloppy circle while shadowboxing. There’s nothing wrong with either of those things, and I have no problem putting up with people who engage in them — I just want to enjoy an awesome live show.
Gogol Bordello played the Ritz Ybor last Monday. They were just as amazing as their last Bay Area appearance at the State Theatre, and I had an awesome time. Early on, however, I feared my evening would be ruined by the most egregious concert etiquette faux pas. An error so heinous it transcends rock shows and infringes upon normal everyday life: exceptionally awful body odor. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by Lily Reisman on Jul. 30, 2009, at 2:16 pm
It was ridiculously hot. It took me 15 minutes to realize that my white wife beater would become my face towel for the day. It was loud. It was colorful. It was my first time at Vinoy Park. And finally, at the age of 24, it was my first time experiencing Warped Tour.
It’s been three years since I attended a music festival and as I walked through the ticket line into a field filled with tents, stages, beer stands and even a slip n’ slide, I instantly recalled why I love outdoor fests; passing through the gates meant entering a world of the unpredictable and the unexpected. I didn’t know what kind of crazies I’d come across (there were bound to be some amidst the 10,000 attendees), what kind of new music I’d hear, or how pleased I’d be with the bands I was there to support. Read the rest of this entry »
“I’m so blessed to / have spent the time / with my family and the friends I love/ with my short life / I have met so many people I deeply care for”
These final chanted lyrics of Yeasayer’s “Red Cave” go a ridiculously long way in summarizing exactly what my recent trip to Chicago for the fifth annual Pitchfork Festival meant to me. While I’d been to the fest several times in the past (the first three, actually), this marked the first time that a huge group of old friends (LBHS stand up!) were able to meet up and enjoy the city and the music and the drunken shenanigans together. (Pictured at right: Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips; all photos by R. Kevin Rose.)
What’d I learn? well, for starters… we are all official members of the POSI-ADULT CREW. Not straight edge — not even close — but definitely upbeat and affable. Positive, if you will. A group of kids raised on (amongst many, many other things) Bad Brains’ “P.M.A.”, Seven Seconds, Dag Nasty, Gorilla Biscuits, etc., who grew into a geographically dispersed crew of adults … all of us still kinda “Screaming For Change” in our own unique ways. (LOTS MORE PICS AND SHENANIGANS AFTER THE JUMP) Read the rest of this entry »
Restless again. My band stops playing and a smattering of applause fills the void of sound as the barkeep kicks on the punk jukebox. Love Comes in Spurts pipes through the shitty speakers as Richard Hell’s whiney voice affirms the nihilistic undertones of modern living. I look down at my sweat-stained shirt and a tiny button of Hell’s vacant stare pinned above my left breast pocket catches my eye. For a second, its blank straight-mouthed expression curls into a shit eating grin and he whispers up at me, “I know punk sounds better through the filter of a canned, thought-out and planned recording” as I rub my eyes, pick up my amplifier and carry it hastily out the back door.
Fresh air stings my lungs, billowing smoke escaping through the closing door behind me. I drop my keys, set the amp down on the pavement and pick them up. After throwing the amp in the back seat of my car, I reluctantly re-enter the bar from the back to finish cleaning up.
Unexpectedly, the door leads directly into my parents’ house three towns over. The sun burns through the large windows as my hands begin to shake uncontrollably. I must have really shaken something up in my head last night with that show, I tell myself in a panic. I can hear my parents arguing in the next room:
“Why can’t you use your gift of music to serve the Lord?”
On paper, Dethklok should be unbearably lame. Fake bands from cartoons bring to mind tripe like Jem or Josie & The Pussycats. But somehow, Metalocalypse creator Brendon Small got it right. Dethklok is more than just a “brutal” caricature. Judging by how Small crams in references to obscure bands and invites big names from the metal underground such as George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher and the members of Exodus to provide guest voices on most episodes, Small clearly gives a shit about metal. The Berklee College of Music grad not only voices many of the characters and writes much of the music, he also sings and plays guitar.
The Dethalbum should have also been unbearably lame. Songs from the TV show’s first season had to stand on their own without silly ultraviolent imagery. At best, Dethklok should be paint-by-numbers metal, and their songs little more than novelty throwaways. But behind every silly concept like “Murmaider” (homicidal sea-creatures) or “Awaken” (resurrecting demons) hides a pretty awesome metal song. In fact, Small’s Berklee pedigree and heavy metal fanboy roots create a competent, if not expertly-crafted pastiche of the best aspects of death, thrash, and traditional heavy metal.
The Deathalbum was one of my favorite releases of 2007. Now, Small and his cartoon band will try again. Read the rest of this entry »
When Billy Corganfirst announced his intention to resurrect The Smashing Pumpkins, longtime fans crossed out the names of uninvolved former members (except Jimmy Chamberlain) one by one. We knew there would be no James Iha (now in that silly supergroup Tinted Windows) and no D’Arcy Wretzky (right). Only now do we finally hear what’s up with the silvery-haired bassist! D’Arcy randomly called Chicago alt-rock station Q101 to let us know she left the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle behind in favor of passing her days on a horse farm in rural Michigan. Oh, and she loves Silversun Pickups, who don’t at all sound like The Smashing Pumpkins.
Last month, I reported on Courtney Love and her similar intention to resurrect Hole with minimal involvement from former bandmates. Former Hole guitarist and co-conspirator Eric Erlandson took time out from Buddhism and marketing vegan food for a Spin Q&A. When asked about his feelings on Hole’s return, he responded:
We have a contract. She signed a contract with me when we decided to break up the band, which was like 2002 or something, so I really don’t have a comment on it except that I know my part in that band. The way I look at it, there is no Hole without me. [Laughs] To put it blunt. Just on a business level… I’m open to discussions regarding the real Hole, and if she has a solo album together, I think that’s great.
Punknews.org reported this week that Long Island emo-rockers Brand New named and dated their upcoming fourth album. And One Head Can Never Die is scheduled to drop September 22, sandwiched between new albums by Muse (9/14, hopefully the next day in the U.S.) and AFI (9/29).
UPDATE: According to Aversion.com, Brand New renamed their forthcoming album Daisy.
As much as I love and revere Muse, my hopes and expectations are even higher for Brand New. While frontman Jesse Lacey never hesitated to elaborate his deepest, inner-most feelings even dating back to their pop-punk-leaning debut Your Favorite Weapon(2001), the musical progression showcased on the band’s two successive albums dwarfs his still-impressive growth as a lyricist. Deja Entendu(2003) and The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me(2006) find two almost completely different bands, each superior to the last.
With Brand New progressing by leaps and bounds with each release, why does the end now draw near? (VIDEO AFTER THE JUMP) Read the rest of this entry »
I had low expectations for Stump’s Supper Club and Howl at the Moon at Channelside. I thought about all the half-hearted piano-based lounge acts that I saw in Vegas and New Orleans, and I wasn’t exactly excited to go. After wrestling with the idea, I decided to give it a try and I’m glad I did.
I went on Thursday night, met up with the piano men and got a front row seat while I was waiting for them to start. The place was pretty dead at 10 p.m., but people began trickling in as the set started. It’s important to note that this isn’t your granddad’s piano bar. The songs they play are all pop hits from the last 40 years, and they draw on the crowd for suggestions. Read the rest of this entry »
Five years ago, any music industry conference would feature hours of discussion about how to get your compact disc into the hands of DJs on FM radio, or tips on how to press and package a CD that wouldn’t get buried on the desk of an A&R executive at some major label. A lot has happened in five years. On Saturday, June 13 and 14, Hillsborough Community College and The Artist and Writers Group hosted the Second Annual Homemade Music Symposium in Ybor City, and in the combined 18-plus hours of discussion, commercial FM radio was not mentioned one time.
Instead, Saturday’s daytime programming included panels and workshops like “Alternative Media Promotion,” “Marketing, Touring and Band Management” and “How to Get the Most Out of a Studio Session.” Panelists included bloggers (Bryan Childs,Ninebullets.net), social networking specialists (Julia Gorzka, Brand Tampa) and local media (Lee Courtney, WMNF; Curtis Ross, Tampa Tribune; Julie Garisto, St. Pete Times as well as Creative Loafing’s Leilani Polk). Mr. Courtney was the only radio personality in attendance. (Tampa’s 88.5 FM is a community station that still allows their DJs to play CDs – they even sometimes play records.).
The Homemade Music Symposium’s goal is to educate nascent and struggling musicians in the ways and means of the music business and industry trends. It also included out-of-town industry folk and special keynote speakers – this year, it was Tunecore’s Peter Wells and Tony Michaelides, a local author from Manchester, UK, who’s colleagues and contemporaries include Factory Records’ Tony Wilson, David Bowie, U2 and The Stone Roses.
Conference attendees were mostly solo singer-songwriter types, with a sprinkling of MCs, publishers and managers as well as other local bloggers and marketers looking to get involved in the music scene or learn about new media. There was a lot of talk (maybe too much) about Twitter and Facebook, and of course the familiar geographical gripe of how Florida is difficult to tour/break out of, because there are no surrounding states (The closest top 10 market is Atlanta). A good portion of the crowd was visibly older, some dressed in flowery shirts and flip flops, and plenty of eyes glazed over when the topics inevitably circled back to “Tweeting” and social networks.
Sorely missing from the panel of experts, especially on the panel labeled “Area Record Labels and Artist Managers,” were representatives from the handful of local Tampa imprints, namely ADD, New Granada and 24 Hour Service Station (Geri X, Win Win Winter and The Beauvilles). 24 Hour owner Marshall Dickson stated that he would definitely be involved next year, but that this time around he just had “too much on his plate.” The only current label owner in attendance was Ivan Pena, who runs Mohawk Bomb Records (Soulfound, Ascending to Avalon and Rise of Saturn). Pena seemed optimistic about the Tampa Bay music scene, and about the fast-changing online industry, but insisted that artists need to tour incessantly and start treating their band like a business or risk failure.
The “Music Critics” panel, unfortunately the last session of the day, seemed to be the most pessimistic. One girl in the crowd asked for suggestions on how to become a music writer. The entire panel discouraged her. It may be in fashion for music writers to be moody and begrudging, but one would think their passion for music could somehow keep their chins up, not to mention grateful that they still have jobs in the age of Rotten Tomatoes and aggregated, user-generated reviews at Amazon.com.
Posted by Leilani Polk on Jul. 2, 2009, at 3:26 pm
Random news bites from the last several days (excluding anything about Michael Jackson … well, mostly).
Regina Spektor’s new album, far, debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard 200 this week and the lovely Russian-born songstress is scheduled to perform on Late Night with Conan O’Brien on Thursday, July 30. Slipping to the No. 2 spot this week are theJonas Brothers with Vines And Trying Times, which held last week’s No. 1 position. Black Eyed Peas have moved to the top of the charts withThe E.N.D. And in case you BEP fans were worried, the title doesn’t foreshadow the band’s immenint break-up, but stands for “The Energy Never Dies.” Clever.
Seattle grunge metal makers Alice in Chains have confirmed the dates of their upcoming world tour, sans lead voice Layne Staley, who, if you recall, faded away into reclusivity before he speedballed to his death in 2002. The tour supports the band’s first new studio release in more than 10 years, Black Gives Way to Blue (in stores September 29). The first single, “A Looking View,” is currently streaming on their MySpace page and definitely has the feel of classic Alice in Chains, complete with the hard-meets-soft harmonies by vocalist/guitarist Jerry Cantrel and Staley replacement, vocalist/guitarist William Duvall. Here’s a statement the band released about the new song: “The song basically speaks to any number of things that keep you balled up inside. A cell of our own making with an unlocked door that we choose to remain in. Focusing our attention inward instead of reaching out to a much larger world. I think this is common to us all. It’s funny how hard we fight to hang on to a bone we can’t pull through a hole in the fence, or how difficult it is to put down the bag of bricks and move on.” Current confirmed U.S. stops include Detroit, DC, Chicago, NYC, Milwaukee, Portland and San Francisco. No telling whether the tour will bring them to Florida. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by Eric Snider on Jun. 25, 2009, at 9:56 pm
Never has so much triumph dissolved into so much tragedy.
From kid star to King of Pop to punchline. And now dead. Michael Jackson was 50 when he died earlier today of a heart attack. A shock — but, then again, when it came to Michael Jackson, nothing was.
Some people will dismiss Jackson’s death as a fitting end to a twisted caricature of a life. They might even get a chuckle out of it. I won’t. I’m hit. This is one of those celebrity deaths that I’ll remember where I was when I heard about it. (As it turned it, it was at Cirque de Soleil; I left soon after.)
I’m upset, more than I guess I thought I’d be. But I’m focusing on memories. I was there, watching, when he wowed the country with his pre-adolescent charm on Ed Sullivan, his skin the color of milk chocolate. I was there, watching, as he turned into a man, still with childlike charisma.
I was there in 1979, in an arena in Honolulu, when he performed with The Jacksons, but the most riveting material was from his new album, Off The Wall. I was there, in front of the TV, when he first did the moonwalk on Motown 25 and folks talked about it for days, months. I was there, a newly minted music critic, giving Thriller all of three stars.
And yes, I was there when he gradually sanded his skin to the color of chalk and remade his nose into a button. Read the rest of this entry »
Based on sheer numbers, Bonnaroo is a beast. 70,000 people invade Manchester, Tennessee, making it the 6th largest city in the state for over three days. Now your average Bonnarooian is quite a bit different than your typical Tennessean — full of booze, THC and god knows what else. It’s a crazy place.
Where else could you find Jimmy Buffett, Ani Difranco, Snoop Dog, Al Green and Bruce Springsteen? For better or worse, Bonnaroo is biggest and baddest of the American music festivals. With 13 stages and tents, hundreds of vendors, and a pretend Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the well-oiled machine of Roo is now in it’s 7th year and going strong.
Simultaneously a radiant clusterfuck and glorious throwdown, it’s hard to imagine a bigger party. And with any party, there’s always the good, the bad and the ugly. For our purposes here, let’s focus on…
Posted by Joel Weiss on Jun. 19, 2009, at 12:25 pm
Courtney Love is nuts. (Newsflash, right?) Years of drug abuse will do that to a person. She uses the Internet predominantly to bicker with Ryan Adams and wonder aloud, “What happened to all that Nirvana money!?”
Love has worked intermittently on her second solo album Nobody’s Daughter over the past three years. Because of various false starts and Internet leaks, the disc is three producers and four studios deep. Now it seems Nobody’s Daughter won’t even be a Courtney Love solo album. Courtney has taken a page from Corgan’s playbook and resurrected a dormant, yet familiar name.
… is the title of one of the earliest releases by Manic Street Preachers. That single was released way before the angry young Welsh band were even close to ever releasing a full-length album. The song is basically an observation of how obsessed we as a culture are with nostalgia.
We revel in the “Glory Days” (another song with a similar theme) and spend countless hours talking about how GREAT the “good old days” were. The irony is that although we were complete fuck-ups, douchebags and nerds, we still somehow only remember how young, hell-raising, wild and crazy we were. Selective memory, if you ask me.
This type of fond remembrance is great but it has its limitations. Such is the case with the warm fuzzy feeling that most people have for bands like Cheap Trick and The Ramones.
Undoubtedly these are two of my all-time favorite bands that I consider myself very lucky to have seen live many, many times. Both influenced thousands of bands who came after them and eventually eclipsed them both in terms of record sales and popularity. Thing is, both bands continued to create solid, respectable music throughout their respective careers.
Hell, Cheap Trick’s last record, Rockford, rocks as hard as anything they’ve ever released! Problem is the folks who go see these bands nowadays only want to hear “the old stuff.”
Few names resonate more with heavy metal fans than Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath. Interestingly enough, Ozzy’s time in the band represents only a small portion of Sabbath’s legacy. Black Sabbath now has 40 years and 18 albums under its belt. Ozzy was around for eight albums, and two of them are so awful they damage his own legacy and justify his termination from the group in 1979. Drummer Bill Ward and bassist/lyricist Terrence “Geezer” Butler left and rejoined before bolting for good in 1984. Through all the substance abuse, through turbulent, revolving door lineups, and through parts of five decades — only guitarist Tony Iommi remained an original member.
Why, then, is Ozzy suing Tony Iommi for ownership of the “Black Sabbath” trademark? And why now? Ozzy’s statement:
“It is with great regret that I had to resort to legal action against my long-term partner Tony Iommi, but after three years of trying to resolve this issue amicably, I feel I have no other recourse.
“As of the mid-1990s, after constant and numerous changes in band members, the brand of ‘BLACK SABBATH’ was literally in the toilet and Tony Iommi (touring under the name BLACK SABBATH) was reduced to performing in clubs.
First of all, ten bucks says that’s not Ozzy’s statement — it’s his harpy mouthpiece wife, Sharon’s.
Secondly, listening to a Black Sabbath album — whether a legendary Ozzy- or Dio-fronted LP, or the easily forgotten Tony Martin — there’s no doubt for a second who stars. Ozzy’s vocals rarely deviated from directly following Iommi’s riffs!
If Ozzy wants to argue about legacy, he should pop in a DVD of The Osbournes and look inward — or better yet, at his wife.
The Black Sabbath lawsuit made me wonder about other great bands – not just in heavy metal, but over all of rock ‘n’ roll, where similar debates may rage.
What’s more important? The Frontman or The Riff? The debates and classic Sabbath video after the jump. Read the rest of this entry »
Last year, America’s indifferent masses finally acknowledged the country’s desperate need for change and elected a leader who not only represented change but inspired confidence, re-affirmed those freedoms we held so dear, and gave us back our sense of patriotism without making us feel ashamed of it. The dark times aren’t over, but we’ve filled ourselves with enough hope to get by.
You get the idea that Akron/Family is feeling the same sense of re-claimed patriotism before even hearing their new album. The cover of Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free (Dead Oceans) features the American flag, its star-spangled square replaced by a tie-dye swirl of white on faded navy, its broad stripes wrinkled and gaping in spots. But it still hangs proud and defiant, if a bit worse for wear. (Video and rating after the jump.)Read the rest of this entry »
A dear friend of mine is in the midst of the arduous, exhilerating, terrifying and liberating process of coming out. She recently wrote to me about the central role certain music has played in helping her to interpret and cope with her whirlwind emotions. I’ve combined her suggestions with a few of my own favorites to create a soundtrack that is guaranteed to make anyone’s coming out possible, bearable and even totally awesome.
Prince, Cream:I’ve chosen this raunchy classic primarily for the obvious reason, but also for its subtext of affirmation and empowerment: “Do your dance / Why should you wait any longer? / Take your chance / It can only make you stronger.” So true.
Bruce Springsteen, Rosalita (Come Out Tonight): I don’t think Bruce knew he was writing the following lines for me and gay people everywhere, but we should still thank him for them: “Closets are for hangers. Winners use the door / So use it, Rosie, that’s what its there for!”Although set in a fairly cliche heterosexual context, this song is all about sexual defiance, transgression and freedom. It resonates with queer audiences in a profound way.
Ani DiFranco, Shameless: This spunky jam about a clandestine same-sex love affair was critical in my own coming out journey. Ani communicates the experience of being closeted in characteristically clunky couplets like “We’re in a room without a door and I am sure without a doubt / They’re gonna wanna know how we got in here and they’re gonna wanna know how we plan to get out.” Check out a rousing performance (complete with a full-throttle audience sing-along) after the jump.
The latest press-generating tactic the Lips are enjoying is a collaboration with Wu Tang’s GZA. (That’s the foursome below with a badass looking GZA. Or maybe his bad-assness is mere confusion, like, “Who are these guys again and what real benefit am I getting from playing with them?)
Posted by Eric Snider on Apr. 16, 2009, at 8:38 am
If you’re reading this, a music blog, you probably go to quite a few concerts, and you’ve probably developed some strategies that work for you. Nevertheless, for those less experienced, and for those who might need a refresher course, let me pass along some knowledge that I’ve acquired over the decades. You can think of them as rules, or think of them as suggestions.
Certainly there are more than just these that that popped into my head. Please post yours in Comments. Maybe we can come up with a handbook and split millions of dollars in royalties.
Some of these tips are obvious, some not so much. We’ll start with what I consider to be the Concertgoers Platinum Rule:
+ Don’t get wasted and effectively miss the show. Nothing more needs be said, really, but I’m surprised at how often I see this, and not just from kids. I was at a Tom Petty concert in the old Bayfront Center arena in the early 1980s and I saw a young woman passed out with her head inside the front of a speaker. Miss the concert, brutal hangover. And deaf. She shoulda stayed home.
+ This is one of my biggies: Don’t go to a show desperate to hear one song, especially if that song is a a deep album track that was in the background when you first got laid or something. You’ll end up obsessing about the tune, waiting for it, pining for it, and there’s a really, really good chance you won’t hear it. And you’ll miss the show. You’ll blame it on the act. It’s not their fault, it’s yours.
Bob Greene is a traumatologist. This somewhat morbid designation means precisely what you think it means: Bob is a certified expert in psychic pain. The Florida State University Traumatology Institute conferred this title upon him, but his years of practice as a licensed clinical social worker are the true source of his expertise. In this capacity he has counseled thousands of people, including survivors of some of the greatest collective traumas of our time.
The day after the September 11 terrorist attacks he drove to New York City to counsel people in the financial district who had watched helplessly as planes crashed into buildings, emergency rescue vehicles unknowingly drove over top of human remains and fire, smoke and ash consumed everything comforting and familiar. In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, Bob provided counseling for the Tampa Bay 2-1-1 volunteers who spent two weeks in Monroe, LA fielding 2,000 calls a day from storm survivors in desperate need of rescue, shelter, psychiatric medication or even food after going without for three days.
Here’s how Bob, a man as unassuming and unpretentious as his name, describes his work: “I talk to folks just like me: bozos on the bus just trying to make it through this crazy world. I listen. There’s something about saying it out loud.” Here’s how I, a lifelong songwriter and singer, describe Bob’s work:He’s a pad of paper, a journal or a napkin and a bartender’s pen. He’s the multitrack Tascam I used to record my fist song when I was a sophomore in high school. He’s an open mic night or a house concert with a particularly gracious and responsive audience. He’s an opportunity to let the inside out, to let thought hit air.
I met Bob in my capacity as the director of Impact-Florida, a GLBT rights organization formed in response to the passage of Amendment 2. One of my members caught wind that Bob was starting a support group for people struggling to come to terms with their sexuality or with that of a friend or loved one and urged me to meet with him to find out what Impact-Florida could do to help. He was obviously impressed with Bob’s credentials and experience, but what resonated with him (and eventually with me) the most was Bob’s story. Read the rest of this entry »
Where to begin? Last Thursday seems like so long ago, the start of a very long weekend of incredible music. With the Harvest Of Hope festival bringing bands by the boatload to Florida, many of them played shows throughout the state before and after the weekend. I (with my girlfriend and a few other friends) went to four shows in six days across the state. I did my best to document all of this with pictures and video; and even managed to score a short video interview with Bryce Dessner of The National. Read the rest of this entry »
Lucero played a long, raucous set Friday night at New World Brewery, plowing steadfastly through their extensive catalog while managing to thoroughly engage a sold-out audience. Lucero’s regular band members are Roy Berry (drums), Ben Nichols (vocals/guitar), John C. Stubblefield (bass) and Brian Venable (guitar). On this tour, they are joined by Todd Beene (pedal steel) and Rick Steff (keyboard/accordion).
Posted by Leilani Polk on Mar. 10, 2009, at 4:20 am
What the CL team is listening to right now.
Allen Toussaint The Bright Mississippi (2009)
One of my favorite producers, Joe Henry, teams up with legendary New Orleans artist Toussaint to revive a set of Crescent City classics (and tunes associated with the city) — mostly instrumental jazz by the likes of Sidney Bechet, Jelly Roll Morton and Thelonious Monk. The sound is both old-timey and fresh. Known more as a writer, producer and arranger, Toussaint gets to show off his soulful piano skills. The disc comes out on Nonesuch April 21. –Eric
Matthew Dear Asa Breed (2007)
I’m in love with Matthew Dear’s cavalier, occasionally multi-tracked baritone, how he delivers his lyrics like it’s the first take and he’s not at all concerned. The Electro avant pop artist makes music that’s complex-free, with hints of minimalist house and acid-washed dance funk. This album is his third and a good introduction to his small but noteworthy catalog. Recommended track: “Deserter.”
The Lonely Island Incredibad (2009)
I don’t watch Saturday Night Live anymore, but I do check out the hilarious SNL Digital Shorts on YouTube. Cast member Andy Samberg along with Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone are “The Lonely Island,” but the trio brings in some heavy star power — Natalie Portman, Justin Timberlake, Norah Jones, E-40 and Jack Black, among others — to collaborate. Some of the schtick gets a bit tired by the end of the 19-track album, but cuts like “Dick in a Box” and “Jizz in my Pants” are still funny the 10th time around. Recommended track: “Natalie’s Rap.” Such profanity from such a sweet piece. Mmm…. –B.TreotchRead the rest of this entry »
For humans, 30 isn’t too old — not even middle age is old these days. But for technology, any age measured in decades denotes something downright ancient. Enter the CD, first demonstrated on March 8, 1979.
To date, over 3.5 billion audio CD players have been sold along with 240 billion compact discs. Sales are in steep decline, however, as the age of physical delivery systems for music ends, with the MP3 now reigning king.
The CD hasn’t nearly the passionate fanbase of vinyl or even cassettes, and probably never will, but many music fans, when blowing out the candles on the CD, will continue to lament the demise of cover art and the idea of the album as a cohesive artistic statement.
Potential lesbian and singer Miley Cyrus revealed this week on Tucson morning radio show Johnjay & Richthat she was rebuffed by Radiohead (her favorite band, “the only one she would cry over” according to her agent) during the Grammy Awards last month.
Radiohead was in a dressing room only four doors down from Ms. Cyrus. Miley had her manager request a little face time with Thom and the gang. Their response? “We don’t really do that kind of thing.”
Cyrus told the radio hosts she thought it was “rude.” She even left the ceremony and missed Radiohead’s live performance on the show. “I left ’cause I was so upset. I wasn’t going to watch. Stinkin’ Radiohead! I’m gonna ruin them, I’m going to tell everyone,” she said.
In the hip-hop community, no one really wants to be labeled a hater. While I don’t hate Lil Wayne, I am far from a fan. I respect the fact that he has put out more music than any other major hip-hop artist in the last five years and probably has the best work ethic of any rapper not named Tupac Shakur. But is doing your job really worth the iconic status he seems to have achieved? I’m going to have to say no. So at the risk of earning the not-so-superlative hater label, I present to you my Top 3 reasons why a dead Biggie Smalls is better than a living Lil Wayne.
Lil Wayne has been successful but is he really a worthy successor?
Coattails
Sean Combs might be the owner, but Christopher “Biggie Smalls” Wallace, better known as the Notorious B.I.G., is responsible for the Bad Boy Entertainment empire. The considerable wealth Combs amassed thanks to Mr. Wallace’s efforts funded his Sean John clothing line and propelled Puff Daddy to stardom. Diddy got a Grammy for his No Way Out album that featured Biggie on five songs. He also gave Lil Kim, the most popular female rapper of her time, her start.
Posted by Leilani Polk on Feb. 24, 2009, at 4:18 pm
A blog I periodically visit, Music for Kids Who Can’t Read Too Good, recently posted a pretty good list, “T.A.I.S.T.M. (The Acronym In Song Titles Mix),” a series of songs with acronyms in their titles paired with MP3s of said songs. A pretty nice little collection, with songs like of Montreal’s “Requiem For O.M.M.2,” Broken Social Scene’s “TBTF,” “DLZ” by TV on the Radio, and Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.” Check out the rest and listen to the songs by clicking here.
Portishead stands on a precipice in 2009, and endless possibilities lay before them. Their album Third, released last year, fulfilled their contractual obligations to Island Records – and as Pitchfork reported yesterday, Portishead are free agents. Here’s Geoff Barrow:
“with the world being the way it is, there are lots of options open … but if you lot have any bright ideas of how we should sell our music in the future, lets us know, why not! [...] i dont think that we’re into giving away music for free to be honest…it fukin takes ages to write and we have to heat our swimming pools…!!!”
I can’t imagine better circumstances for a band like Portishead. Although Portishead lacks the vast catalogue and consistent longevity of other bands that recently introduced new business models, they’ve still done more than enough to earn a decent following of rabid supporters – the type of fans who’ll wait 11 years for the band’s third album. They know how to make music – they just need to decide where to go from there.
So as Geoff said, if you’ve got an idea, pass it along. They’ve got pools to heat and music to write, and Portishead aren’t exactly known for doing things quickly. Here’s are a couple of good Portishead videos, one older, one new
Posted by Leilani Polk on Feb. 15, 2009, at 1:47 pm
We all know the standard classic mixtape love songs – “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton,” Lionel Richie’s “Endless Love,” Stevie Wonder’s “Golden Lady,” “I Will Always Love You,” (Dolly or Whitney, you pick the version), “At Last,” by Etta James, most of the Beatles’ early catalog. But what about modern, 21st century love songs, i.e., those that came out after January 1, 2001?
Up until I started preparing this, I never really thought much about it, but surprisingly, I came up with a wealth of ideas, almost too many. The songs I thought up are not necessarily traditional ballads (though there are several), are not always romantic or saccharine or even very nice, do not always offer bold statements of devotion or everlasting ardor. But in each, the meaning is clear even if it isn’t always spelled out clearly.
“Fell in Love with a Girl,” The White Stripes, White Blood Cells (2001)
The song made stars of pasty, Detroit-based indie alt blues duo Jack and Meg White, both because it was nice and short and tasty raw, and because it has a really cool Lego video. Check it out, if you haven’t already seen it a few dozen times.
I’ve been averaging around 4 hours of sleep a night for the past several weeks. Combine the subtle, creeping delirium that accompanies such chronic sleep deprivation with modern time-wasting tools like the internet and it is no surprise that I found myself on Youtube last night watching singer/songwriter Melissa Ferrick’s video blog.
I have counted myself amongst Melissa Ferrick’s fans since the spring of 2005 when I shared a festival stage with her in Ft. Lauderdale. Before her set, we chit chatted while we picked at the wilting craft service tray. I had no idea who she was. After her set, I was so overwhelmed by the quality and intensity of her performance that I couldn’t bring myself to speak to her. I made my girlfriend go up to the merch table where Melissa was greeting folks and signing autographs to buy a few records for me.
That was then. Now, after sitting through about an hour of the most inane and self-indulgent videos on Youtube I would have absolutely no problem giving Ms. Ferrick a piece of my mind. Here’s what I would say:
“Melissa, wow! What an amazing set! You’re like a lesbian Elvis or something. There is something I want to talk to you about though. Do you have a sec?
Your video blog has got to go. I know you think the fans like it and I’m sure some of them do, but they’re the creepy ones that you hate talking to after shows and that you kind of wish would just buy your records and not show up. Do you really feel comfortable exploiting their mildly perverse interest in you? Read the rest of this entry »
Traditionalists, romantics and cynics who would like to get laid next Saturday night, order your roses now! Valentine’s Day is a mere 8 days away. If you wait much longer you’ll be sporting a pot of mums on the big night and, trust me, mums will get you nowhere.
In honor of our annual celebration of love (or cheap romance if you prefer), I’ve compiled a list of my favorite love songs. Before I launch into it, I’d better take a moment to clarify my definition of what constitutes a love song. I’m pretty sure I deviate radically from the common wisdom on this.
A love song is simply a song about love. It is does not have to be about any one particular kind of love. For instance, according to my criteria The Troggs’ Wild Thing is a love song as is Biggie Smalls’One More Chance. A love song also does not have to be about any one particular phase of love. For instance, Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright is a love song even though it’s about a romance’s bitter end and not it’s elated beginnings.
With my analytical framework now clearly established, I present to you my list of my favorite love songs. If you think this is totally off base and that I’m really just a bitter and withered husk of a human being, please let me know. Just try to put it more nicely than I did : Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by Leilani Polk on Jan. 31, 2009, at 1:18 am
A new weekly column (with media!) about the jam band supergroup; logo art by Phil Bardi.
On October 1, when the members of Phish — guitarist Trey Anastasio, bassist Mike Gordon, drummer Jon Fishman, and keyboardist Page McConnell — announced they were getting back together right in the middle of what was turning out to be a really difficult year for my husband and I (not to mention for the rest of the country), it was as if they were performing a public service, as if they’d tuned into the collective subconscious and realized that their fans and America as a whole needed something to lift us.
An increased mortgage payment, termites, a car accident, a string of break-downs, the Creative Loafing Chapter 11 bankruptcy, stress-related heart palpitations, the gas price hike, Sarah Palin and John McCain and George Bush and all the dark and dreary days of bad news after bad news, of living paycheck to paycheck, the bleak and undeniable truth of our country’s recession — all of it was put into perspective when my four favorite musicians decided that it was finally time to get back together and make great music again.
It sounds ludicrous, of course. I know there’s other music out there — I’m an unfaltering advocate for most of it. I get on my soapbox all the time to tell whoever will listen to me about it, spend hours at my laptop because of it, and develop enduring obsessions that span the sonic spectrum as a result of it.
But my ability to appreciate and enjoy such a wide range of musical genres and my very career as a music writer can be directly attributed to being turned onto Phish. It’s Phish that gave me new ears and prompted a different way of listening to music, Phish that nurtured my desire to seek out the latest sound and all those sounds I’d never taken the time to check out before and have come to love dearly — The Velvet Underground, Ween, Frank Zappa, Talking Heads. I learned, by way of Phish, that yes, I can travel anywhere I want, that I can hop a plane and fly away for the weekend and see a show and new city (or re-visit a favorite one), I can jump in my car and just go (provided my car works).
Most of all, Phish introduced me to a community of devoted fans who really seem to care about each other, who are a warm, welcoming, good-natured bunch with the tendency to form instant bonds with fellow admitted phans; I’ve met some of my closest friends via our shared love of Phish.
Phish changed my life, made me who I am today — both as a person and as a music journalist — and they are near and dear to my heart because of it. The band’s reunion has given me something shiny and bright to look forward to in the near future. That and the upcoming Clifford Ball DVD Set, a concert doc featuring Phish’s first fest, which was held on a decommissioned air force base in New York. (More on that and a soundboard copy of the fest’s “Harry Hood” at the bottom of the post).
So back to my point. I have a theory that the Phish reunion is not only a great thing for Phishheads but for America as a whole. Here’s why: Read the rest of this entry »
Barack Obama (a dude who has been president for all of 8 days) is featured on the cover of Ms. Magazine’s Winter 2009 issue. The feminist rag’s publisher, Elanor Smeal, defends the choice in the issue’s preface: “When the chair of the Feminist Majority Foundation board, Peg Yorkin, and I met Barack Obama, he immediately offered ‘I am a feminist.’ And better yet, he ran on the strongest platform for women’s rights of any major party in American history.”
Today over lunch I got embroiled in a spirited debate with a professional journalist friend of mine. The topic? Are bloggers truly journalists? As you might imagine, I stuck up for the bloggers maintaining that we’re as entitled to the distinction as the next guy. My argument went something like this:
A “journalist” is little more than an observer who records and promulgates his/her observations. This is an essentially human act, not some skill unique only to a certain type of human with a certain type of training. When someone is called a “journalist” it means little more than they have the luxury of devoting 40+ hours a week to doing what the rest of us are forced to do only in our spare time and with fewer resources.
To illustrate my point, I juxtaposed the “journalist” with the “musician.” I specifically invoked Yo-Yo Ma because his stirring performance at President Obama’s inauguration was still fresh in my memory. I waxed on and on about Yo-Yo’s innate talent and decades of training and experience and how his title of “musician” encompassed all of this. It was not a mere signifier of his liveliehood, but an acknowledgement of his special skill. Everyone has the “skill” of a “journalist.” Few among us have the skill of Yo-Yo Ma. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by Leilani Polk on Jan. 15, 2009, at 11:29 pm
In what could turn out to be the best or worst PR move ever brewed up by a brain trust of managers, agents and consultants, soulful singer-actress Jennifer Hudson comes out of hiding and gives her first performance since the triple homicide that took the lives of her mother, brother and young nephew less than four months ago. At Super Bowl XLIII. In front of millions of Americans across the country and a live audience of nearly 70,000. Singing the national anthem a capella, just her and the microphone.
Will she get to “the bombs bursting in air” and flash to her family getting shot to death, and breakdown, right there, in the middle of Raymond James Stadium? Or will she belt out a mournful but magnificently moving cry to the heavens, and touch the heart of every sentimental schmuck who’s watching, and bring said schmucks to tears? Read the rest of this entry »
Shitty concert etiquette can destroy what could otherwise be an out-of-this-world concert experience. I’ve attended hundreds of metal, rock, and punk shows and witnessed all manner of drunken douchebaggery. The more intense the show, the more idiocy you’ll have to put up with.
On paper, 
When 
Five years ago, any music industry conference would feature hours of discussion about how to get your compact disc into the hands of DJs on FM radio, or tips on how to press and package a CD that wouldn’t get buried on the desk of an A&R executive at some major label. A lot has happened in five years. On Saturday, June 13 and 14, 
Few names resonate more with heavy metal fans than 
Potential lesbian
