Music Snob

The Day the Halftime Music (Maybe) Died

Fri, 2 Dec 2011 13:49:59 -0600

Reminiscent of Disco Demolition Night, Nickelback — yes, the Canadian version of Three Dog Night — is playing the halftime show in Detroit when the Lions meet the Packers this Thanksgiving Day. I’m actually watching it now. GO DETROIT! Which will never happen — the Mayan calendar will come true first. O.J. will treat women right first.
Disco Demolition Night occurred at a doubleheader in Comiskey Park in Chicago on July 12, 1979. It was conceived by local DJ Steve Dahl, who continuously ripped on disco on the rock station WDAI and found himself out of a job when the station was changed to — guess what — a disco format. However, Dahl was quickly hired by fellow Chicago rock station WLUP and teamed up with broadcast partner Garry Meier.
Well, these fellows wouldn’t go down without a fight and, oh yeah, some explosives, which, let’s face it, personify a rock show. Dahl, Meier, Mike Veeck (son of the White Sox’s owner at the time), and the WLUP staff got together for some revenge and the annihilation of disco.
Let’s face it: Disco did really, really suck.
The White Sox, expecting a crowd of 12,000 (twice their usual attendance), were greeted by 90,000 disco haters and baseball fans. Mayhem ensued. The outfield caught fire after the explosion and was pretty much destroyed, while fans hurled disco albums like Frisbees at one another. Near-riots occurred, as well as several other fires. One can think that only Yanni could elicit this response, or maybe Ke$ha.
The batting cage was ripped down, and fans wandered the field sort of aimlessly … if your definition of “aimlessly” is starting small fires and riots, smoking marijuana, and stealing bases. Did I mention the players were just warming up for the second game?
Anyway, I doubt Detroit goes this mad over the Nickelback show. However, the majority of fans expressed their displeasure the Ammurican way: by petition.
For the record, I loathe Nickelback, with the exception of the lyric in “Rockstar”: “I’ll have a quesadilla,” but that’s because I really dig quesadillas. By the way, I did not just quote a Nickelback song; you misread that. You big dummy.
There seem to be two Nickelback camps: the lovers of same-sounding songs and the ones whose ears bleed upon the first sound of lead singer Chad Kroeger’s voice.
In a town famous for Motown and music, you can’t blame fans for being super pissed about Nickelback playing a halftime show (even for the United Way). It’s the town Eminem, Ted Nugent, Kid Rock, Jack White, and Bob Seger all hail from. Granted, the band has a good sense of humour (how it’s spelled in Canada, I think) about the uproar, even doing a Funny or Die video about the controversy.
Music Snob observations:

• When did Kroeger cut his hair? Much, much better. He doesn’t look like a sublevel rock Fraggle anymore.
• OK, damn, they don’t suck yet. Give it time. I’m giving it time.
• Who are these dancers? Fans? I have heard Detroit strippers are fugly, though. I saw 8 Mile.
• Still blown away that Kroeger looks so much more handsome with short hair. I hate myself.
• This song has a total of 20 words in it, which is five more than their last song, which was … hell, I don’t know the title. What am I? A Nickelback fan?

OK, it is finished.
Alas, Detroit did not set any fires, smoke meth, or throw iPods. Just got a stuck stage. I am a little (very) disappointed. I guess everyone is too busy being the 99% fighting the 1%.
Speaking of, though I may hate Nickelback, they are harfing all the way to the bank. Or rather, “Hey-eh-eh-eh-ay”-ing to the banque.
And where the hell were the explosions?

The Pleasure of Real Rock and Jet Set Babylon

Fri, 4 Nov 2011 17:47:15 -0500

On October 1, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing a Jet Set Babylon show — actually, the band’s first, though you’d never suspect that. In this humble writer’s opinion, it is hard rock at its best to be found in Baton Rouge.
Playing classics like “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap,” “Look What the Cat Dragged In,” and “Shout at the Devil,” it sounded less like a cover band than a band that has made the songs its own. Jeff Marcello, who plays guitar for the band, indicated they are working on original music, as well.
All five members hail from this area: Marcello on guitar, the very talented Ursin DeRoche on lead guitar (if the badass wind machine blowing on him identifies him as such), Ben Cascio on bass, Colt Fontenot on drums, and the wild mixture of Sebastian Bach and Axl Rose that is lead singer Darren Foreman.
The band did a little Q & A with Red Shtick, and its members may be funnier than me (sort of depressing; I may be out of a job).

Obviously Jeff Marcello is Paul. So who are Ringo, John, George, and the Fifth Beatle of your group? (Note: Clarence is the real Fifth Beatle, but let’s pretend Eddie Murphy never said that.)
Darren: We all agree Colt is Ringo, and I’d say Jack Daniels is our fifth member.
Jeff: Ursin is obviously John Lennon, as there is some resemblance, and I think he has a thing for ugly oriental women.

I feel privileged to have seen what was your first show altogether at The Varsity. Was there a reason none of you went home with me? Was it the glasses? Or just the fact that it would be unprofessional? It wasn’t the glasses. I had an eye infection, dammit.
Darren: I’m just there to entertain, not to pick anyone up.
Jeff: It definitely wasn’t the glasses, though you might want to consider contacts.
Ben: Too many wedding bands and attachments in this band, sorry.

How long have each of you been playing music? I know most of you have been with other bands, too. What made you all decide to hook up and make a Baton Rouge “supergroup?”
Colt: I’ve been playing music for 13-14 years.
Darren: 37 years.
Ben: I started on drums in 1987; I just pretend to know bass for this project.
Jeff: Over 20 years, and thanks for calling us a supergroup.

Vote time: frilly toothpicks in sandwiches. Who’s for ’em?
Colt: They get in the way.
Jeff: They always get caught in my throat.
Ben: Jeff, you sure you aren’t thinking of your boyfriend?

Who has the coolest tat of the five of you, and what is it?
Darren: Ursin and I definitely have the most.
Jeff: Not me; I don’t have any.
Ben: We’re gonna get Jeff a nice big JSB tattoo across his stomach, and then he’ll have the coolest.

I heard a ton of musical influences listening to your set. Perhaps because it was all covers? Whom does each of you count as your main musical influence?
Colt: It’s mainly Led Zep and Zakk Wylde for me.
Darren: Ozzy and Peter Wolf.
Jeff: Too many to name: Sabbath, Zeppelin, Alice in Chains, Joe Satriani, Van Halen, Steel Dragon.

Jack White. I love him. This is not really a question, but what’s up with him making an ICP album?
Ben: I wasn’t aware of that, and my level of interest did not move at all with that information.
Jeff: What the hell is an ICP? (Note: ICP is Insane Clown Posse.)

I got to see a little of the behind-the-scenes prep you do before shows. What do you each do to sort of calm your nerves, if anything? Keep in mind this really isn’t a family magazine, so you can answer honestly.
Darren: I do stretches and forms from martial arts to take my mind off music.
Jeff: I play Scrabble and do rock star poses in the mirror.
Ben: I play Guitar Hero to be reminded that I rock.
Colt: BEER!

Lars Ulrich (of Metallica): huge dick or freedom fighter?
Colt: HUGE CRYBABY DICK for who he became.
Jeff: I love Napster and hope Lars sees this.
Darren: Freedom fighter.

Are you all from BR and the surrounding area?
Colt: Pretty much.
Darren: We’re from down the street and up yours.

I am assuming you each have day jobs. Who has the one closest to Dwight Schrute from The Office? And who has the most exciting or fulfilling one?
Jeff: Ursin plays and teaches guitar for a living, so he definitely has the most exciting job. He taught Liv Tyler lessons in her hotel room while I was pencil pushing. NO FAIR! Ben is definitely our Dwight, as well.
Darren: Yea, Ben is Dwight.
Ben: I suppose, since I wear glasses most of the time and try to keep some order to this madness. I imagine my beet farm with my cousin doesn’t help, either.
Colt: I’m a crane and heavy-equipment mechanic. Not sure how fulfilling or exciting that may be to some.

As a fan of Barbara Walters (the Betty White of journalism), I have to ask: If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
Colt: Cypress tree.
Darren: Pecan tree because I’m nuts.
Jeff: I’m not sure; what kind of tree is talented and good-looking?
Ben: I’m pretty sure there is a Michelle Branch joke to be made somewhere.

Any upcoming shows you’d like to share, as in dates, locales, and times, with our readers?
Darren: They tell me where to be and I show up.
Jeff: The best thing to do is go on Facebook and “Like” us. All dates and whatnot are posted on there.
Ben: Plus naughty pictures of the people who interview us, but we’ll talk about that later.

I noticed most of you have girlfriends or spouses, and some of you kids, so how hard is it to maintain the balance of family and your passion for music?
Jeff: It’s really complicated when you have a spouse AND a girlfriend. Kidding. I have a wonderful wife, Micki, and five kids. It’s a tough labor of love. This band stuff is a lot of work to do it right. I’d say the key is balance.
Colt: Most of us in the band have spouses/kids, so with that in mind, we try to keep a good balance between the two. We aren’t trying to be rock stars and tour the country.
Ben: Come see us play and try to guess which band member has grandkids.
Darren: Yea, it can be tough, but you have to have someone understanding.

Has anyone ever caught himself on fire while freebasing? It sounds horrible.
Jeff: I put instant coffee in the microwave once and almost went back in time.
Ben: How do you almost go back in time? Other than coming to one of our shows and feeling like you are back in the glory days of rock, of course.

Is there anything else you’d like me to include in my article besides the fact that I think you guys rocked it the other night, for real?
Ben: Jeff touched on it earlier as to how hard this stuff is. Learning songs and getting together and they rock doesn’t just happen. Well, sometimes with us it does, but not always.
Darren: We’re taking over this town.
Jeff: I’ve heard from several fans that we are a real, authentic rock band, and that means a lot. There are so many manufactured artists out there. We play what we love, always keeping in mind what the crowd loves, too. We are the music and our performers are genuine. And Steph, we enjoyed having you out and hope you’ll come hang out with us again soon.

So, Red Shtick readers, if you like to rock, we salute you. And also encourage you to see Jet Set Babylon when you can. For more info on the band, go to http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jet-Set-Babylon/211970488855981.

21

Fri, 7 Oct 2011 14:58:35 -0500

Unless you’ve been living under a rock or spending all of your time reliving your glam rock glory days and mourning the passing of Jani Lane by listening to Warrant on repeat (RIP, Jani), you’ve no doubt heard “Rolling in the Deep,” the breakout smash by British chanteuse Adele. Part Amy Winehouse, with her deep, bluesy, so-thick-it’s-almost-palpable vocals, and part Dusty Springfield, with buttery and sultry smoothness (along with a refreshingly ladylike nod to ’60s retro fashion), Adele is no doubt a force to be reckoned with.
I first became aware of Adele via my friend Stephanie when she made a remark on Facebook about how she loved the song “Rolling in the Deep,” but the next person who posted a video of it in her feed was going to get jacked in the mouth. So, laughing and curious as to what she was referring to, I checked it out.
Not only did I share it with all of my friends (giving Stephanie a thank you and the finger at the same time), but I downloaded the album 21. I have to say, I don’t believe any album I have ever heard has stricken me with such a motley blend of emotions.
I’ve shed so many tears over the song “Someone Like You” that I think I have permanently bruised my tear ducts. Lyrics such as “I heard that you’re settled down/That you found a girl and you’re married now/I heard that your dreams came true/Guess she gave you things I didn’t give to you” shook me to my foundation and ripped open parts of my heart I thought sealed after my last bout of unrequited love.
While the man who was the subject of that interlude and I remain the best of friends, songs like this and several others on this album seem to hit that tiny little button that triggers the old “what ifs” to start flooding my mind. Regardless, this track on the album is my favorite, because it just hits me where it hurts, my insecurity over being good enough for someone.
Other tracks, such as “I’ll Be Waiting,” “One and Only,” and “Rumour Has It,” all bring up emotions and memories of past relationships for me and I am sure countless other people who have listened to them. Maybe that is the thing that bothers me the most about this entire record. I mean, it’s no secret that great art and music are often the byproducts of pain and rejection. However, this entire album seems to be just one long, looping track of heartbreak, begging lovers to come back, wondering what she’s done wrong, where she failed, mourning what could have been … blah.
Don’t get me wrong; most of the songs on the album are superbly crafted and flawlessly executed by Adele’s powerhouse, blow-the-roof-off-the-building, standing-ovation-worthy voice. (I personally found some songs to be just fluff and vehicles to showcase her vocal range.) The pure emotion she lends to these songs is gut-wrenchingly powerful, and despite her young age (21 when this album was produced, hence the title), there is no denying that she is an old soul who has felt and still feels every inch of what she is trying to convey to her listeners.
When I first heard her sing “Don’t forget me, I begged…” in “Someone Like You,” it felt like someone cracked my heart wide open, and I openly wept like a child because I felt those words just like I was having my heart ripped apart all over again as when my previous relationship fell apart and my lover walked out the door. I cannot listen to this song without singing along, and after listening to it literally hundred of times, I have yet to make it through with dry eyes.
In “I’ll Be Waiting,” she croons, “I'll be waiting for you when you’re ready to love me again/I put my hands up, I’ll be somebody different/I’ll be better to you.” What person who has ever had her heart ripped to shreds hasn’t held out some semblance of hope that someone will come to his senses and come back and realize he’s made a mistake by not returning her affections? What person who has ever been dumped hasn’t wished he could have a second chance so he could change himself for someone else to love him more, even for just a moment?
In “One and Only,” she is singing of trying to convince someone she’s “worthy” of his love and being held in his arms. It’s all too much for me to bear. Begging and pleading for someone to love me? I’ve been down that road, I am ashamed to say, and never, never again. Maybe that is where I have to draw the line and change the station. It all just hits home and cuts way too close to the bone for me.
Granted, not every song is that of a woman desperately trying to cling to some bloke. But it does seem to me that, even when she is singing of empowering herself or getting on with her life and over some man, it’s just a thinly veiled disguise of backbone and lacks being solid, as if they are merely empty words.
While I highly respect anyone who uses her voice and her words to create something as everlasting as music, especially with so much heart and soul to it, I find the more I listen to this album, the ideas Adele seems to want to leave the listener with, of empowerment and inner strength and finding a sense of self, are lost in all the “why won’t he love me” tones that are overshadowing them.
In 2008, Adele canceled tour dates to be with a boyfriend, a move she now states she regrets, as the relationship did not last (despite her efforts and willingness to throw away everything for his love, including her career). Perhaps that is why I am hesitant to sign my name as one who loves Adele.
I certainly do not deny her talent, and I certainly do not begrudge her laying out her soul for the entire world to see and possibly relate to. I will not even deny that I myself have found great comfort in belting the hell out of her songs in my car. I know firsthand that there is no cathartic release like that of singing from the bottom of your soul about all the things in this world that pain you.
It’s just that this album, while quality for many, many reasons, just reminds me of some of the very lowest of lows I have had in my life, and quite frankly, of a woman I have worked very hard not to be anymore, and I find myself projecting and wishing that Adele could or would do the same.
Perhaps the most profound thing that I take away from all of this is the idea that, if the structure of your entire sense of self-esteem is built upon loving anyone, it should be yourself. Until you realize you don’t need someone else to validate your existence, then honestly, as far as I am concerned, you’ll never, ever feel loved or good enough for anyone, including yourself.

Back to Black

Fri, 5 Aug 2011 17:28:47 -0500

It seems to me that substance abuse and art — especially music — go hand in hand. Seventy years ago, jazz musicians were pretty much all on heroin, and since that time period, things haven’t changed very much.
In America, we love to build an artist, an actor, or any celebrity up just to watch him fall, but in England, they make an art of it in itself. Just look at what they did to Lady Diana.
I was a teenager when Kurt Cobain died. Barely 18. But I felt it like a loved one had died. I worshipped the band.
When I learned Amy Winehouse had allegedly succumbed to the disease of addiction, I felt it somewhat the same way, even though as with Cobain, it was not surprising. A matter of when, not how.
As a human being who has seen firsthand the throes of addiction, her death, while mostly inevitable, is hard for me to write about. Not much funny about it at all. I could make the requisite “Rehab” jokes, but I can’t. All we can do is welcome another to the “27 Club.”
For those unfamiliar, the 27 Club, or the Curse of 27, refers to a group of artists and musicians who did not live to see 28. Winehouse is the latest in a pretty coincidental line of talented people who, sadly, will be forever 27. It is something Kurt Cobain’s sister remembers him wanting to be in, but the 27 Club gained notoriety with Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and Jimi Hendrix, who all died within two years of each other, from July 3, 1969 (Jones) to July 3, 1971 (Morrison).
I don’t think Winehouse wanted or planned to be in this group. She allegedly had it in the works to adopt a child, which her family is now denying. I like to think she was trying to walk the straight and narrow. Her father claims she quit alcohol because she couldn’t bear the looks on her loved ones’ faces. So maybe, after all the drinking and drugging, it was the stopping that killed her.
The first in the 27 Club is one of my favorite artists of all time, Robert Johnson, an inspiration to any and all who have sung, played, and loved the blues. He supposedly sold his soul to the devil at The Crossroads just so he could play the blues as well as his peers, and he has been inspiring Eric Clapton and other blues musicians who have followed ever since. He died at 27 of suspected strychnine poisoning, by a lover’s husband.
Then there’s Jones, of the Rolling Stones; Hendrix; Joplin; Morrison; and Cobain: all dead by drugs, suicide, or suspected murder at age 27.
It’s hard to make light of death at any age, much less 27, when you seemingly have the world by its tail, even if you are a Kurt Cobain or an Amy Winehouse, destined to self-destruct. With talent and genius comes madness. There is little funny about that.
So while she was alive, I felt like I could rip her a new one for ripping off Ronnie & the Ronettes; the stupid ballet shoes she wore all the time; the sick relationship with her former husband, Blake Fielder-Civil; the ridiculous eyeliner; etc., but now I feel empty trying to rip on someone who died of a disease that medical professionals seldom recognize much less have the ability to cure: addiction.
Even in the U.K., a rich country by any standard, there is a two-year waiting period for free drug treatment. Whether she died of delirium tremens (DTs) from stopping alcohol, as her father Mitch claims, or from ketamine and ecstasy, as is rumored by the British press, she is still gone. And that, musically, is heartbreaking. She was a supernova, a once-in-a-generation talent, and she will be missed.
The irony of it all is you have to live in the darkness to be able to sing it with feeling like she did. That and her most lasting contribution to the musical world is a song called “Rehab,” where she refuses defiantly to go, saying, “No, no, no.”

Music for the Brokenhearted

Fri, 1 Jul 2011 00:09:47 -0500

Would there even be music without love? I think not, but who knows. Maybe Beethoven does, but he’s not talking. Or taking my calls anymore. Weird; we were so close and used to even Skype all the time.
Regardless, having recently gone through a difficult breakup (aren’t they all?), I found myself craving that perfect song to sum up how I felt. The problem was, the feelings changed from hour to hour, and even moment to moment at times, ranging from pain, to anger, to acceptance, to how am I going to go on, and then, finally, to screw this guy, really. (I call this the “To the left, to the left. Everything you own in a box to the left” phase.)
I assured myself I wasn’t the only person to ever need music to make sense of my shattered relationship, and if I were, then by God, I’d find the one song about someone who needed music to soothe her damaged heart.
Oh, YouTube, what would I have done without you these last few weeks? I discovered and rediscovered quite a few gems that really kept me from going off the proverbial deep end. Sometimes it’s good to know you’re not alone in being alone.
Without further ado, except right here, this ado that is further, I present to you The Landry Recipe for Musical Healing of Heartbreak, or TLRFMHOH, for short.
“Purple Rain” by Prince. “I never wanted to be your weekend lover/I only wanted to be some kind of friend, hey/Baby, I could never steal you from another/It’s such a shame our friendship had to end.” I’m pretty sure purple rain would be awesome in real life, but also very radioactive. I wonder if it would taste like grape Kool-Aid?
“Hurt” by Johnny Cash. Yes, this version, not Trent Reznor’s. If you need some Trent Reznor/Nine Inch Nails, try “Something I Can Never Have.”
“Come Pick Me Up” by Ryan Adams. A man’s lament for his ex to come back, even if she’s just gonna steal all his records and screw his full-of-crap friends.
“The Ex-Factor” by Ms. Lauryn Hill. “It could all be so simple/But you’d rather make it hard/Loving you is like a battle/And we both end up with scars.” Well said, crazy ladyperson. Now start making great music again, please.
“He Stopped Loving Her Today” by George Jones. For the really depressing moments when you think you‘re going to die with that person’s name on your lips.
“Lost Cause” by Beck. “Your sorry eyes, they cut through bone/They make it hard to leave you alone/Leave you here wearing your wounds/Waving your guns at somebody new.” For when the desire to drunk dial or text comes up, this is a good one.
“Waiting for That Day” by George Michael. “Every day I see you in some other face/They crack a smile, talk awhile/And try to take your place/My memory serves me far too well.” Just an awesome song, even if you’re not heartbroken.
For the angry, angst moments, “Jolene” by The White Stripes. Try to ignore the comments if you look this one up on YouTube. Apparently, Jack White covering this Dolly Parton classic, which he does with all the raw ache and pain a man can summon, makes him gay. YouTube commenters seriously are THE. WORST.
“Slow Dancing in a Burning Room” by John Mayer. “We’re going down/And you can see it too/We’re going down/And you know that we’re doomed/My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room.” For when you feel the urge to light all of his or her possessions on fire. You may not like the man, but Mayer makes some fine tunes.
“I Will Survive” by Cake. You may prefer Gloria Gaynor’s version of what is rumored to be the most covered song of all time, but I like the heavy bass and slight tinge of sarcasm in this version.
“Song for the Dumped” by Ben Folds Five. “And don’t forget to give me back my black T-shirt!” One of my favorite lines in any song ever.
“You Were Always on My Mind” by the Pet Shop Boys. Maybe you’d rather Willie Nelson’s version, but I like to get my European gay on sometimes, especially when feeling emo.
Speaking of emo, the world’s first goth, Robert Smith of The Cure, has “Pictures of You.” Even if it was kind of strange when they used the song to sell printers a few years ago.
And ahhhh, when acceptance sinks in, and you realize things probably ended because they should have, there is Beyonce’s “Best Thing I Never Had.” “Thank God you blew it/I thank God I dodged a bullet/I’m so over you … it sucks to be you right now.”
So there you go: I hope TLRFMHOH helps you if you ever find yourself in need of a good cry or a scream into your pillow. Love hurts. But it makes for some fine musical moments.

Born This Way

Fri, 3 Jun 2011 18:17:02 -0500

I should probably preface this information with the fact that I DO like good pop music. Britney still holds my toxic heart in her crazy hands. Beyoncé still makes me want to put a ring on it. Hell, sometimes, I can even deal with Ke$ha. (But please keep that between us, mkay?)
However, as hard as I try, I cannot bring myself into the deep trenches of Lady Gaga fandom. I’m just not built to be a Little Monster. Perhaps I was Born This Way. (Sigh.)
My high school art teacher once told me something about a crappy painting of mine, which was probably just a teacherly thing to say to make me feel better when other kids came into class, saw my art on display, and all said, “What in the world IS THAT?!” — but my teacher’s words have always stuck with me. She said that a sign of true art is if people either love or hate your work.
So I apply this to Radiohead (a lot). Oh, wait; I was talking about Lady Gaga — I totally forgot this is not about my failed painting career or Radiohead fandom. Sorry, I do that sometimes. Digression, digression.
Lady Gaga seems to elicit the same response as my high school artwork. You either love or hate her.
The Lady’s new album was released on May 23, which is coincidentally just a few days past what was supposed to be the Rapture/end of days/end of the world as we know it — or, as I like to call it, “Ha ha, this guy has a third messed-up, nonsensical equation for why the world will end on a Saturday, because he obviously thinks God is a jerk who steals weekends! And Saturdays, at that!”
Surely, Gaga’s fans were glad to see May 21, 2011, come and go with no one floating away into the heavens and whatnot, leaving no new Lexus SUVs for me to steal — er, ahem, borrow — nor any people turning into half-motorcycle, half-woman hybrids — especially when they all got together and decided to basically kill Amazon.com’s new “cloud” music service on the following Monday, when her new album Born This Way was released on Amazon.com at a special 99-cent price.
The world did not end, Little Monsters and non-Little Monsters, just your ability to purchase your very own Chia Obama Handmade Decorative Planter. (This exists! On Amazon! Look it up! Note: I have it on semigood authority that Chia Mr. Ts are still available, though personally, I am waiting for a Macho Man Randy Savage one. R.I.P.)
Not only did Gaga’s fans/Little Monsters kill a very popular and well-established website, they also had to be subjected (or, I suppose, for them, treated is a better term) to a super media blitz of Gaga in support of the new album. She was on Letterman, the cover of Rolling Stone, The View, Swamp People … (You didn’t know that was her without the crazy makeup, did you? Yes, she and Troy Landry are ALLEGEDLY the same person. I read that on snopes.com. Research, people! Very important!)
Perhaps the most insane Gaga media infiltration is a very scary place called “Gagaville.” Having gone live on May 17, it was brought to you by the hucksters at Zynga, of Facebook Farmville infamy. This is the company that has singlehandedly caused a 1 million percent decrease (all figures approximate) in worker productivity since 2008 by compulsively forcing normal, usually industrious employees to absolutely need to water and harvest virtual (meaning not real at all) crops 17,432 times a day.
Gagaville successfully marries the concept of farming with meat suits and pro-gay anthems. OK, can’t help myself here: Baby, you were born to farm this way. (Sorry, sorry, sorry.) Gagaville is “a Gaga-inspired farm in-game, which will showcase Lady Gaga’s style and themes from the album and videos … think crystals, unicorns, sheep on motorcycles,” reads Zynga’s press release.
Look, I won’t nitpick here, but I really think they should have used the cigarette glasses, too. We could all “work” a tobacco farm. In a prison. It could be virtual fun.
On a semirelated note, unicorns do not exist, and I once had a sheep wreck my motorcycle. He was drunk, though. Freaking sheep.
Of course, there are plenty of incentives for Lady Gaga fans who visit Gagaville, not just the nonintoxicated biker sheep made of unicorn crystals. The full album also comes bundled as a free download when you buy a $25 Zynga game card at Best Buy. Plus, the Geek Squad guys will get to giggle at you behind your back, which they do anyway, right?
Zynga’s deal also includes a “Words With Gaga” contest. Since “Gaga” is not a real word, you can probably kick her butt at this game and win some concert tickets.
Hopefully, it will be to a Radiohead show.

Just the Tip

Fri, 6 Aug 2010 16:23:49 -0500

One night I went to Rotolo’s and met with Dustin, Lyle, Spooner, Aaron, and Geoff of the band 6 Pack Deep (6pd). We started talking about their new EP, Just the Tip.
Dustin said, “It was recorded February 22 and 23.”
Spooner added, “I thought it was October?”
Aaron cleared things up. “It was finished around March.”
6 Pack Deep was one of the bands that practiced and played in the building that housed The Caterie, which burned on the first of January. This was a problem for a lot of reasons, but one in particular was 6pd’s commitment to an April 30 full-length album release.
So the band got the idea to release a short EP, and they moved into Lyle’s room to practice.
“How did you decide what songs to put on the EP?” I asked.
“They were the only ones we had,” Geoff said.
Aaron added, “We just started writing them on the wall in chalk in the practice room.”
Spooner said, “We also made chalk outlines on the wall of our bodies.”
“Swell,” I commented. “How will the full-length be different from the EP?”
“It will be twelve completely different new songs,” said the band. “But the B sides of the current EP will go on a live album.”
The guys also commented about what we can expect on their upcoming full-length. There will be a song about Bonnie and Clyde and also some Marvin Gaye-type sound … sweet influence!
6pd’s next Baton Rouge live show is September 17. 
What 6pd Is NOT Writing
• Acoustic ballads about locking yourself in the closet because your girlfriend broke up with you.
• Christian songs about getting bit by a water moccasin.
 I asked 6pd about their touring.
“We’re on the road every weekend,” said Lyle. “Eleven days throughout Florida, Georgia, and we accidentally went to South Carolina.”
This accident may or may not have been due to a drunken iPhone hotel booking, but anyway … The venue was in Georgia, and the hotel was in South Carolina, in a small area with two (2) strip clubs between the bar and hotel.
But Dustin said good things about it. “We did play with a really, really great heavy metal band … that had no bass player…”
Geoff said, “They had the best drummers in Savannah.”
Aaron said, “I don’t want to hear the worst drummers in Savannah.”
Then Lyle tried: “The town had … lots of historical information…”
Dustin gave up. “Lyle’s been to prom two times since high school!”
What can we say? Lyle loves prom…
Aaron stopped the guys from making fun of other bands before it went too far. “We just want to practice every day,” he said. “It keeps the hate away,” he joked.
I looked down at my laptop.
“Are you on your Facebook?” accused Dustin. “Or Match.com?”
Not insulting at all, Dustin, I thought. Then I closed Facebook really fast.
“So where’s your next stop?” I asked.
“Alleyfest. Longview, Texas,” said Lyle. “I think it has something to do with skaters.”
“I thought it was about a chick named Allie,” said Dustin.
Aaron said, “I heard that Alley fests are awesome…”
We talked a bit about venues and places 6pd does and doesn’t like to play.
Dustin wasn’t crazy about hipsters. He told me, “You have to wonder about those places where the guys look better in jeans than you.”
Strike two, Dustin.
Overall, the band 6pd will always do well and be safe if they stay away from my own favorite band, No Fuego.
No Fuego is a punk band with a bagpiper. They’re also some of my best friends.
On one road trip, No Fuego was borrowing 6pd’s former bass player’s Ford Excursion. No Fuego also took a dump in a partially filled container of tuna and left it in the Excursion…
This was nothing 6pd couldn’t avenge with some bottles of piss…
No Fuego had also kidnapped 6pd’s ex-sax player. No Fuego (with 6pd’s sax player) beat 6pd to the bar where they all were playing, but 6pd’s sax player was already passed out. Ah, good times.
Be on the lookout for 6pd’s EP Just the Tip and pending full-length album. I wish the band great things. But not Dustin.
Kidding, geez. Kind of.

Alive: A Tribute to Pearl Jam

Fri, 7 Aug 2009 11:09:21 -0500

Aaron Polk has been in a lot of bands. Now, he resurrects them.
Here is what happened when I went to hear Alive: A Tribute to Pearl Jam.
The show opened with a band called Sky Chief. They were six guys dressed like Boston Tea Party Indians, and one guy in a Pittsburgh Pirates hat (this was before they traded Freddy Sanchez). Anyway, the band was psychedelic, yet driven. Hence their “high rank…”
After Sky Chief was done, Polk’s Pearl Jam squad took the stage. (His band members vary with the set.)
The plaid-wearing guitar guy talked first. “Hey!” he said. “Who’s drunk?!”
About eight people cheered, and they were all lying, except for one dude who’d had too much Zyrtec.
Guitar guy cut to the chase. “Look,” he said, “we’re waiting on two people who are taking a piss.”
Sweet, I thought. I like a band that is prepared.
I didn’t know how prepared they were, though, until I heard them play. Alive started with “Animal,” and you could tell they were interested in doing Pearl Jam justice, and not remaking it with a salsa beat. I immediately started dancing like an idiot. (It’s the only way I know.)
Next was “World Wide Suicide.” The band did not juggle fruit … but they did rock!
OK, OK. The rest of the set went like this. (If you’re not singing just from reading the titles, you have no soul…)
• “Even Flow”
• “State of Love and Trust”
• “Dissident”
• “Better Man”
• “Alive”
• “Why Go”
• “Porch”
At this point, the band paused to make a special announcement for one of the guys at the show. “Hey,” they said. “It’s some dude’s birthday.”
So I bought some dude a drink. He seemed confused.
• “Daughter”
• “Given to Fly”
• “Garden”
• “Jeremy” (I think some people thought a radio was on…)
• “Once”
• “Corduroy”
• “Leash”
• “Rearviewmirror”
And after that, I lost track. But it sounded awesome, ’cause I was making out with a cute guy. Songs always sound awesome when you are making out with a cute guy.
Regardless of what song Alive was playing, however, the band was, well, alive! Aaron Polk showed that he could open the Eddie Vedder School of Interpretive Dance. And the drummer started the show a round sorta guy, but he left looking like Ed Norton.
Alive sounded like Pearl Jam, but they also had a lot of fun. So “Alive” was a really fitting name for this Pearl Jam band.1
One thing Alive did to really cement the experience was the “WMA reprise.” Polk made sure to start singing “WMA” during the ends of instrumental solos. And while I never would have expected it, “WMA” sounded great with “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer!” 2
Seriously, though – I am about to get all My So-Called Life on this column, because I realized during the Alive show that I had never before heard any of these songs live.
Like, I grew up being crazy about Pearl Jam. Vs. was the first CD I ever owned (a present for my fifteenth birthday).
While my junior high/high school years were great for music, they were bad for freedom. My parents were unlikely to let me go to the mailbox, let alone a concert. My idea of rebelling was sneaking into the basement to watch MTV’s 120 Minutes!
So, while this was Alive in concert, it was still my first chance to belt Pearl Jam tunes in a public place where I should NOT have been singing. The guys in the control booth in front of me sought medical attention over it.
Aaron Polk and company perform again on August 20 with their own take on Smashing Pumpkins. Go, and wear the ZERO!
1 “Black” would not have been a fitting name.
2 Not actually played … yet.

U2 Visual Music Show

Fri, 1 Aug 2008 18:49:40 -0500

When my editor asked me to go and review the U2 laser light show at the LASM Planetarium, I was a bit skeptical. The last time I had seen one of these shows, I had been forced to attend by my elementary school teacher, and even at that tender age, I had been unimpressed and bored. Watching various geometric and astronomical shapes move around a wall, changing colors and spinning, is not my idea of a good time, then or now. But I agreed to go because (a) from previous visits, I knew the planetarium air conditioner is set cold enough to rival temperatures at the Arctic Circle, and most concerts during the summer are miserably hot; and (b) it has stadium seating, so I did not have to stand for hours while watching the band roadies set up, making perverse jokes and rhymes beginning with the letter “P.”
The first thing that I would like to stress is that you should NOT be under the influence of ANYTHING when you go to see this show. Although I am never a proponent of illegal substances, laser light shows of the past almost screamed, “The only way to have a good time watching this is if you’re wasted!” and it’s become sort of modern-day common knowledge that you go to these shows with some chemical assistance already in your system. Being a responsible citizen and reviewer, I went to see the show completely sober, and so did my date. At the end of the show, we were both extremely glad that we had. This show is amazing enough without your mind playing tricks on you; on drugs, you could harm yourself and other audience members as you freak out.
If you must do a drug, my advice would be weed. It mellows you out, so all you would do while crazy scenery and imagery is whirling around your entire body is just comment, “Wow.” Acid would be a big no: some of these images already seem like an acid trip by themselves – to add acid would just make a good trip go bad. Ecstasy would be out, as well. You would strip naked to try to soar with the flying dolphin, and that would be embarrassing for you and the other audience members. Hallucinogens like mushrooms would also just freak you out, and going drunk would make you barf. So take my advice and go sober.
This particular show uses the entire 60-foot dome theater, so you are immersed in the scenery projected on the screen. The graphics are three-dimensional computer imagery, so even though you are not wearing 3-D glasses, it still looks and feels like you are there. The first song starts out with an alien landscape, reminiscent of the prints of snow leopards on the moon or Mars that were so popular in the early ’90s. Then you start to soar over the landscape. Because the show uses the entire projector, you have images behind, beside, and in front of you, creating a unique experience for the viewer, which makes me wonder if this will be the future of movies. Because I was completely in the dark, I was unable to take any detailed notes, so I only have memory to go by.
The second song to play was “Sunday Bloody Sunday.” The scene opens up with a dark and dreary-looking play fort with two children, whose opposing sides are represented with red and blue armies, and then the camera swoops down from the children to the toy armies, and the armies become really mean, and you see the travesties of war and battle. The band is U2; they’re not going to let you be entertained without a message.
Most of the songs/movies/videos do have a message. There is another video where you are part of a beautiful bucolic scene of nature and living in harmony with one another, and you back up to get the big picture, and the “planet” is the back of a woman – a mother earth. The camera zooms back to a close-up of her back, and the inhabitants of her planet are slowly starting to destroy her with pollution and war. They don’t go subtle with the symbolism on that one.
One of my favorites was one of the videos that did not have a message, but it did have a flying dolphin that had wings in place of fins and flew over a beautiful landscape of an alternate world. I do want to warn you about what I started to dub “spinning space”: It causes vertigo. The best solution that I found was to close your eyes and breathe deeply for a few seconds.
The U2 show is presented on Saturdays at 7 p.m. Admission is $8 for adults. After U2, there is a show for Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. I have yet to see it, but after watching the U2 show and thoroughly enjoying it, I definitely plan on making a second trip. You can also check out other movies and times for the planetarium by going to http://www.lasm.org/stage/html/mn_planetarium.html.

Muppets at the Museum

Fri, 2 May 2008 16:06:48 -0500

It’s time to play the music. It’s time to light the lights. It’s time to meet the Muppets at the Louisiana Arts and Science Museum.
No, seriously, I’m not kidding: the Muppets are here and can be found downtown until June 22 in an exhibit entitled Jim Henson’s Fantastic World. For anyone who grew up with The Muppet Show, learned to count with Sesame Street, and chased her cares away with the Fraggles, you have to go and check this out.
The first thing that you see when you walk into the show is Kermit the Frog. He is encased in a glass box – which is good, because the first thing you want to do when you see a real Muppet is touch it, like you would any famous person. I’m not overstating when I say some of these items made me want to squeal like a little fan girl, and I know that I can’t be the only one.
Kermit is surrounded by sketches and drawings of some of Henson’s earliest work. I was stunned to find out that Jim Henson could draw. I just thought that he created funny and fuzzy creatures, but Henson actually made money in college by selling promotional posters for various school groups. Though many of these are dated and look so sixties that they are almost painful, they are still interesting to look at.
More interesting, I found, were the doodles. This man had the most organized doodles I’ve ever seen. They don’t really look like doodles, except for the fact that they are surrounding other written work, so you know they were not the main focus of the page.
Further into the exhibit, you see some of Henson’s early commercials and shows. Much of this exhibit is audio-visual, so do not go when you are limited on time. The commercials are hilarious and surprisingly violent in a cartoony sort of way. They made me wish that we weren’t so politically correct, so that we could see commercials like this again.
There are clips of several of Henson’s commercials – most for products that no longer exist, with only a few exceptions. You also see the storyboards that Henson made to brainstorm for them. One of these storyboards shows that Henson created a commercial for Community Coffee®. Who knew? The coolest part of this section, however, has got to be Rowlf, the piano-playing dog that was one of Henson’s first Muppet creations, who starred in several of his commercials before becoming one of the main characters in The Muppet Show.
Walk into what I dubbed “the Sesame Street room,” and you are greeted by Bert and Ernie. Lining the walls around them are more storyboards and clips from Sesame Street. It was truly amazing to see the planning that goes into the counting cartoons that they show on Sesame Street. Even more amazing, to me, at least, was how many of these cartoons that I didn’t know I remembered until I saw them.
The closest I came to squealing like a fan girl (I may have jumped up and down a little and wished that I had a camera) was when I saw the Mahna Mahna Muppets. That’s not their official name, of course, but that’s what I’ve always called them, so their real name didn’t stick. These are the pink Muppets that look like aliens out of a Dr. Seuss drawing that sing along with the scat-singing jazz cat:
“Mahna Mahna.”
“Doo-doo, do-doo-doo.”
“Mahna Mahna.”
“Doo-doo doo-doo.”
“Mahna Mahna.”
“Doo-doo, do-doo-doo, do-doo-doo, do-doo-doo, do-doo-doo, do-do-doo-doo do-doo-doo.”
It’s a classic, people. If you don’t know it, you should be ashamed of yourselves.
By far, the coolest room was the Fraggle Rock/Dark Crystal room. My husband couldn’t get over how big a real Fraggle Muppet is, while I couldn’t get over the detail work that went into every aspect of The Dark Crystal. The finger forks that the Skeksis use look like something that you would see on display in a museum exhibit of a foreign culture.
Since I am supposed to be the music critic, it would behoove me to talk about the music in the exhibit. No, Jim Henson didn’t compose, that I know of, and there are no live musicians performing, but every piece of Henson’s work was closely tied to music. It almost seems, when you look at his work, that he thought to music. Very little of the video presentations do not include music or singing, and I found myself humming throughout the museum.
The bottom line is – you’ve got to go check this exhibit out!!!! I didn’t even touch on half of the cool things that are on display, and this is one of the longest articles that I’ve written for this magazine. So check it out and remember why you loved the Muppets as a child, and find out why you should love them even more as an adult.