And Now For Something Completely Different

This post is one for the records. K is about to give HIM a tepid review.

While us HIM fans wait for the new album to materialize next year, Ville Valo has agreed to release a compilation cd called Uneasy Listening Vol. 1 that includes rare tracks, acoustic versions, and remixes of the poppier HIM hits prior to Dark Light. Uneasy Listening Vol. 2 will include the heavier tracks and will soon follow, I hear.

What works about this release? The acoustic versions of The Funeral of Hearts and Please Don’t Let It Go, both featuring a solo Ville on his acoustic, are rough diamonds set amongst a handful of rhinestones.

Tonight, with the winter storm of the year throwing copious amounts of ice over the entire St. Louis area, I decided to sit down and listen to each tune to try and figure out why the rest of the cd doesn’t really work for me. I boiled it down to four issues.

Issue 1: In Joy and Sorrow (String Version)
My friends know what this song means to me. I want it played at my wedding and my funeral and any time I get in the car. After playing the Deep Shadows and Highlights version and the UL V1 versions of In Joy and Sorrow back to back I figured what is missing: the rhythm section. Basically, the ULV1 version is the original with bass and drums omitted. You can’t remove the backbone and expect the same kind of impact.
Issue 2: Ville’s falsetto
It’s hard to imagine that when Ville formed HIM his original intention was to be the bassist rather than the lead singer. He’s a natural crooner and knows how to use his voice. When he doesn’t go nuts with it, his falsetto is hot. It just is. On UL V1, I just don’t know what he’s doing at the end of It's All Tears (Unplugged Radio Live) and Lose You Tonight (Thulsa Doom Extended Dub).
Issue 3: The Path (P.S. Version)
OK, this version meanders sleepily like a David Lynch movie. It’s got a slow, hazy, and lovely quality but in a very creepy way. Then, about 3 ½ minutes into it, it plugs in, strongly and suddenly. No matter how many times I listen to it I’m not prepared for it and it is jarring. Ville’s voice is fantastic, though. That’s the only thing that works for me on this version.
Issue 4: The rest of the story
The other tracks, i.e., The Sacrament, are incredibly similar but not great versions of the originals. They seem more like mixed versions that were later tweaked and perfected for the albums. Is that the point of this? I’m not really sure. All I know is that they don’t stand up to the songs I’ve come to love.

Why didn’t the beautiful acoustic version of The Sacrament make the cut?

This is one for the collector’s bin, but it’s just not the sonic perfection I’ve come to expect. For this compilation I give it the unofficial rating of Unmoving. You know I love you...-K

These acoustic performances can be found on youtube and are some of my favorites:
For You 1997! As my friend R would say, young Ville’s hair is long and luscious.
The Funeral of Hearts The German woman introducing Ville is in full goth regalia. It's quite something.
The Sacrament "Danke!" he says. This performance is a little whiny, but it works. Who am I kidding I love every second of it.
Endless Dark and Join Me. This was filmed at a secret gig for a several lucky fans. It’s one of my favorites to watch because he is so gracious and sweet with them.

Wolfmother at Mississippi Nights - K's Take

When I found out that J and I won passes to the pre-show on-air performance and could invite a guest, I had one person in mind, my friend C. C first brought this band to my attention when their EP Dimensions became available to us in the States earlier this year. I will never forget C calling me and saying “Dude, you will die when you hear them. They are so fucking amazing. You will love them.” He was right. When I called him in KC, MO and left a v/m asking him if he could swing spending a Sunday night in St. Louis he called back and responded “hell yes.”

When C arrived I served up a batch of my Shepherd’s Pie and popped open a couple of beers. We caught up, ate, and jammed on our acoustic guitars until J and her nephew D came over to signal it was time to head down to LaClede’s Landing.

When we got to the venue we checked in with the radio station rep who was suffering a hangover due to a night out with Buckcherry. We stood around for about ten minutes before Wolfmother lead singer/guitarist Andrew Stockdale walked passed us smiling. D shook his hand and introduced himself. Earlier, J and I had had a discussion in the car as to whether or not the guys would be tall or short. Based on my inability to find petite sizes anywhere in Brisbane, Sydney, or Melbourne I assumed that they, like most Australians, would be tall. I was right. Andrew is a tall and lanky guy with a cherubic face framed by an amazing and otherworldly white man’s fro. My jewish friends might label it a jewfro. Whatever the source of the hair, it’s commanding and it’s large and it’s lovely. And he’s lovely. When he came outside he glanced over at us and gave us a smiling and gentle “hello”. J and I just did not expect this.

We got into the venue and I realized I had forgotten my driver’s license. I never do that. Ever. I had to answer very quickly the following questions: 1. How old are you? 2. When’s your birthday, and finally 3. What year did you graduate high school? Once I answered those questions he stamped my hand and sent me on my way where I joined my party and explained how I almost fucked myself.

J and I stood in line with the others in front of the stage while the boys got themselves situated and ready for the q&a session. It was not as nerve-wracking as I expected to ask a question live on the air. In fact, I kind of got a kick watching The Point's Rizzuto do his thing. During the on-air portion they played three songs: White Unicorn, Woman, and The Joker and The Thief. As J said, they were extremely gracious and polite; traits, Andrew jokingly remarked, that along with xenophobia is shared by all Australians. When we realized that they were plugged in for this set, we prepared to be catapulted to the back of the venue from the electric thunder coming off the stage.

Judakris. Exactly where they want to be...


Andrew doing his thing...


Chris Ross doing his thing...


The boys...


We were extremely pleased to find that once we went off-air the band was up to signing, chatting, and taking some pictures. Drummer Myles Heskett, wanting to shake things up a bit, decided to draw on his likeness rather than scribble a boring old autograph. On mine he drew an eye patch, on another a Dali moustache. This last one, I’m proud to say, was my recommendation to him. We’ll always have that moment, me and Myles. I wish I had a close-up of him to share! Very easy on the eyes, that one.

Andrew Stockdale and Judakris. You can't tell, but we are enjoying every minute of this moment!


After the band left to grab some food, we all hung out inside to wait for the doors to open. We watched opener Dead Meadow do their sound check for a while and waited for the bar to open.

It was 8:00 PM before Dead Meadow began playing. Silversun Pickups did not show up, which may have encouraged Dead Meadow to take advantage of the extra time. By the time they were done with their set they had been playing for about an hour, perhaps more. I couldn’t tell, really. If I hadn’t been responsible for getting my party home that night, I would have considered heading out. It was a momentary lapse of reason to have considered it.

C told me that his friend in Florida had seen Wolfmother three times. When asked to describe the experience, he summed it up by declaring "they rip your face off.” Had I not stayed, I would have only imagined what he meant by it. Intimate performances are wonderful, but sometimes seeing a band feed off an energetic crowd makes the performance even better and therefore the audience experience is better. This is exactly what happened as the laid back and mild mannered boys we shared moments with earlier transformed into rockstars with machine-like precision in front of their sold-out crowd. Seeing keyboardist/bassist Chris Ross orchestrate his jumps at the precise moments Myles and Andrew struck down on their respective instruments was thrilling. The fact that he can make toggling between his keyboard and bass look so easy is a feat in and of itself. Andrew’s virtuosity sans overly theatrical gestures makes you think you’re watching a classic in the making (think Jimmy Page or Brian May- and I don’t throw that kind of comparison down freely). Onstage and on record they fuse the mystical sounds of Led Zeppelin with the heavy power chords of Black Sabbath and do so with perfection.

Wolfmother performing to a sold-out crowd at Mississippi Nights...


When the night ended, the pit dwellers walked by us on their way out the door. They all looked wrecked, totally fucking sated, and faceless. My rating is Unbelievable. -K

Wolfmother at Mississippi Nights - J's Take

"Without music to decorate it, time is just a bunch of boring production deadlines or dates by which bills must be paid". -Frank Zappa

I am sure Frank was discussing the creation of music, but it’s the same for those of us crave it live. I so get the "bills must be paid" part of this quote. That's how I was feeling this morning when I had to get up and get myself to work, but the weariness of a late night out was all worth it last night.

I bought tickets to the Wolfmother show months ago. After having to sit through the Panic! at the Disco show with daughter A. Saturday night, Wolfmother was the perfect remedy. K and I also had the great fortune of winning a radio contest which meant attending a press conference where we got to ask the band a question and attending a pre-show set by the band.

Four of us were picked for the contest and we got to each invite one friend. K brought her friend C and I brought my nephew D. The band came out, played Joker & the Thief, White Unicorn, and Woman just for the eight of us and the radio staff. It was an amazing experience. We were thinking that the set before the show might be an acoustic thing, so when they plugged in, we were so excited. The band was so friendly which made this experience all the better. Thanks to them for being so gracious.

Mississippi Nights is a great place to see a show. It's basically a bar so it's intimate with pretty good sound. We were lucky enough to stay in the venue after the press conference so we got our pick of seats for the crowd came in. D went straight to the front and we spotted a good location further back. D ran into some interesting folks at the front of the stage. The middle-aged man next to him was offering football tickets if D would bring down some “dirty” girls from Chicago. There was also a woman flashing the band right next to him. Whatever.

The opening band, Dead Meadow, oh my. It went on and on and on and on with no distinguishing characteristics. It was painful. I think that's my idea of what hell would be like. You're at a highly-anticipated show and all you see is a lingering opening band.

Wolfmother came out and made it all better. Shame on any band with more than three members that can't be that powerful. You say you need a Keyboard Player AND Bassist? No, you better be able to play both goddamnit, during one song! It was incredible and the crowd loved them. Everyone around us was singing along with every song. I usually want to stay far from the serious crowd at the front of the stage. I’m a mom so someone is depending on me at home. I can’t get a concussion at a concert. However, when the opening chords of Dimension began, I was tempted to bolt from my safe perch by the bar to get right up front. I fought the urge and that’s probably why I’m at work without a neck brace today.

The high points for me were Love Train, Dimension, and the encore which included Communication Breakdown. --J

Wolfmother = Unbelievable

Wolfmother played Mississippi Nights tonight in STL. It was easily the best show I've attended this year. More tomorrow after the work day is through. --J

Uneasy Listening

"I fucking hate arrogance. No, correct that... I fucking hate people. Vast mindless herds of people, usually around Christmas time or rush hour. And TV stereotyping. Urrrgh! Normality, waiting for anything (patience is not one of my virtues), litter, concrete urbanisation, lack of vision, religious strangleholds, bigotry, sponge cake... hate them all." Dani Filth, lead singer, Cradle of Filth

Ahhhh, what better way to spend the day giving thanks for your loved ones and all the sweet potato soufflé you can eat then writing a post about your favorite Black Metal band, Cradle of Filth, and their latest album Thornography.

I’ve been in Huntsville for nearly two weeks. Whenever I work out of the Hsv office I am operating under a general umbrella of anxiety. It’s impossible to work quietly here. The Hsv people will welcome you loudly and with open arms and you will never be alone at lunch. They won’t have it. It’s something that is beautiful and exhausting at the same time and to prove it I’ve been in bed by 9 every night. Last week, all of the attention and the amount of work I had caused me to not exhale for about five days. Every day when I left the office I would get in my car and immediately queue up a Cradle of Filth single on my iPod called "The Byronic Man". Gradually, I would just let all of Thornography (2006) play itself out while I drove. To seek solace in thrashy metal is unlike me. For example, usually I need to sing along-- ok by sing I don't mean like that delusional kid on the American Idol auditions that wore an MCR hoody and screamed a scream that sounded like a shrieking intake of breath. There's a little of that on this album and I'm not going to attempt to sing along. Another example is that usually when I need a little musical therapy I go straight for early HIM tunes, the sonic equivalent to wrapping myself up in my featherbed. This time I was seeking a musical remedy ten times more extreme than usual, and therefore considered it to be a short period of musical psychosis. Anxiety is now almost completely gone, yet I’m still listening to the album. Does this mean I’m a fan of Black Metal now?

Black Metal, to me, has always been a genre that consisted of bands that took themselves too seriously, produced melody-free cacophony, and burned churches. Yeesh. Thornography seemed like it would be a very typical Black Metal piece, but after listening to it in its entirety I realized that CoF may have shades of Black Metal in their music and on stage, but they seem to be a more commercial and harmless variety of the genre. Ambient, slightly thrashing, theatrical and full of Tim Burtonesque dark humor, I have to say I’ve moved past any kind of musical psychosis into a steady affection for the album.

Random thoughts:
The Byronic Man was the gateway song for me as it’s a duet between Ville Valo and CoF.

What I can’t figure out is why the band has a fast band member turnover rate. The lead singer is the only member who was part of the original lineup. I wonder if there’s something Napoleonic going on there.

Dani Filth and the band join the Viva La Bam crew for an entire episode during the last season.

Dani Filth used to have a regular column in Metal Hammer called “Dani’s Inferno.”

Although I could do without the tiny bit of narration on this album, I do have some favorites:
Under Pregnant Skies She Comes Alive Like Miss Leviathan - Black Metal with shades of Emo due to the incredibly long song title. What's with that?
The Byronic Man - Kickass duet with Ville Valo.
Lovesick for Mina – After being away from my cat Mina for nearly two weeks, I think I will serenade her with this song next time I see her. We’ll see how far I get with the screaming before she claws me. The meandering guitars make me think of Iron Maiden.
Libertina Grimm - Very groovy!
Cemetery and Sundown - Love the guitars and the guitars on this one.
Temptation - Yes, this is a cover of the Heaven 17 hit. Very unexpected, I must say.

I may really like Thornography, but I won’t be walking around in corpse paint any time soon. -K

Unnecessary on Thanksgiving Eve

After some Thanksgiving meal prep, I mostly fast-forwarded through Madonna's Confessions Tour Live special that aired on NBC last night. It was like watching Madonna's revisionist history of disco. We can all rent Saturday Night Fever when nostalgia strikes, so there's really no need for this. It was preachy at times but mostly just irrelevant. And watching her play guitar, it is just painful. Won't someone in her entourage clue her in on that?

To counteract the acidity of this post, a very happy Thanksgiving to all. I feel very blessed in so many ways. --J

Mick and Me

I am never alone in my house. Tonight is an exception, and much to my delight, I found myself spending the evening with Mick Jagger. A few years ago, my brother S. had mentioned a Mick Jagger documentary that chronicled Mick’s recording of Goddess in the Doorway, his last solo effort. About a week later, my friend M. mentioned the same documentary. How had I missed this? Years later, I find Being Mick: You Would if You Could, available on Netflix and it came in the mail today. I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially with no interruptions.

H. got me Goddess in the Doorway for Christmas when it was released. I believe I gave it at least two listens but not much more. As far as solo work, I think Keith wins that contest, not that there is one. However, after watching this, I may go back and give it another listen.

Now it could all be for the cameras, but Mick comes off as witty and quite a family man. My favorite scene takes place when Mick flies to Cologne, Germany so that Bono can record some vocals for a track. Bono, Mick, and the album’s producer are sitting there eating lunch and the producer asks Mick if he ever started that magazine that he talked about years ago. Mick says no, that it was going to be called The Trouser. He says that guitarists have a ton of magazines, as do drummers, etc. so this magazine was going to be for the lead singer since style is so important for a lead singer. It’s nice to see he has a sense of humor about himself. He was also very gracious even to autograph seekers who were obviously just getting the autograph to sell it.

If you are a fan of Mick, this is a must watch. --J

News on The Darkness and Cradle of Filth

Just reporting news. Cradle of Filth (who I can't seem to stop listening to this month) drummer Adrian Erlandsson has been replaced by Martin Skaroup. Adrian wished to concentrate on his side projects. Also, The Darkness singer Justin Hawkins has left to pursue a solo career. Bass player Richie Edwards (who replaced Frankie Poullain in May last year) is expected to take over as frontman. -K

So-Called Artist

In the latest Blender with MCR on the cover (issue 54, Dec 2006), the article with Jared Leto entitled "Life on Mars", a surprisingly interesting read, revived a topic that I thought was dead to me: Leto and his hatred of blogs.

In the article, the writer references the fact that Leto doesn't have a stellar reputation and that not only do some girls hate him and his band, but that bloggers do, too. His lothario ways the cause for women to curse his name, there is no mention as to why bloggers dislike the man and his band. This is something I read about several weeks ago and I almost blogged about it, but as with all things 30 Seconds to Mars- oriented I soon lost interest.

In an interview on The Feed (G4's blog) Leto stated that "blogging should die a sudden death" and then goes on to say "It used to be, to be a writer you had to have experience and talent, and learn a craft. Now anybody with an opinion, which is anyone and everyone, feels that it’s worthy. Technology is allowing people to have access to things where before it required very great skill. So there will be some interesting developments from that, and also some things that are pretty worthless. Pretty soon anybody with a cell phone is going to be able to be a news reporter." When I first read this, it struck me as a hypocritical and slightly elitist statement from a guy who, still most well-known for leaning well (fans of the show like me will get this reference) on My So-Called Life, is wanting to be a rock star. He says otherwise in the article, btw, but yeah, ok. Whatever.

Jared's interview on The Feed Was followed by a blog blitz of critical responses. Even VH1's Best Week Ever got involved, featuring the pathetic Scott Stereogum/Jared Leto confrontation at the mtvU Woodies award show. It's all old news now, but Jared managed to get quite a few people to notice him for a while during their tour before they realized that 30 Seconds to Mars is just, well, unnecessary.

When the G4 blog interview was first published, the band was about to play a date in St. Louis. J and I considered going, but were too tempted to wait afterwards and yell to the band as they got on their bus "YOU SUCK!". -K

Hellooo Huntsville

I’m working out of the Huntsville, AL office this week. The office is located downtown across from a venue called Sammy T’s where tonight Hinder will perform to a sold out crowd. As I walked to a Greek restaurant on the square around 11:00 AM I saw a bus, presumably theirs, pull up. I didn't buy a ticket because they're a bit too "red state" for my taste (think Nickelback or Creed). Not surprised they sold out here. The picture, which shows the bus in front of Sammy T's, was taken with my phone and could NOT be smaller! -K

The Great Saltair

On a work trip out to Utah, I noticed that at the Avalon Theater Ben Lee, John Ralston, and Rooney were playing on a Friday night, so I decided to get a ticket. All I knew about these acts ahead of time were:
1. Ben Lee used to date Claire Danes.
2. Rooney’s album seemed to be everywhere a few years ago but I knew nothing about their music.
3. Robert Carmine, Rooney’s lead singer, is Jason Schwartzman’s brother/Talia Shire’s son/Sophia Coppola’s cousin, etc. etc.
I said to a friend that I was thinking about getting a ticket to this show and the conversation went something like this, “Yeah, that lead singer of Rooney is hot, but I don’t know anything about their music”.

By the time I purchased my ticket, Under The Influence of Giants had been added to the bill. About a month ago, K had asked me if I had heard their single Mama’s Room. She liked it. It sounded retro, kind of like the Bee Gees.

So I buy my ticket for the show and the following warning comes up, which I have never seen so explicitly stated during a ticket purchase.


General Information:

THIS SHOW IS GENERAL ADMISSION/NO SEATS/STANDING ROOM ONLY. NO REFUNDS/NO EXCHANGES UNLESS THE HEADLINING BAND CANCELS.

NON PERMITTED ITEMS:
Illegal and Prescription Drugs
Pro/Digital Cameras
Audio Recording Devices
Laser Pointers
Weapons Of Any Sort
Chains
Spikes
Fireworks
Glass
Bottles
Cans
Backpacks
Large Bags Or Containers

Well, I normally don’t wear chains and spikes but all of the sudden, I was wanting to. But the no illegal drugs is what had K and I laughing. Isn’t the fact that their illegal make it unnecessary to put on the list?

Two days before the show, I check the website and the show has been moved to a different venue. The show is now planned at a place called The Great Saltair on the shore of the Great Salt Lake in Magna, Utah. Thursday night I am sitting in my hotel room, watching the ABC Thursday night lineup and surfing the net when in between commercials, the local news says something like “Man holds police at bay with a high-powered rifle as others enjoy concert at the Great Saltair”. What? There was a concert Thursday night, with Rise Against and Thursday playing. I’m thinking, should I go tomorrow night, but what’s the chance of the same guy holding me hostage the next night? Lightning usually doesn’t strike twice now does it? Well, when I watched the broadcast later, it wasn’t as bad for the concertgoers as the news made it seem originally. The broadcaster said that a man had called the police and stated that he had a gun and he was in a trolley out by the Great Salt Lake. There is a trolley right next to where the concert was taking place but it turns out, he was at another abandoned train car further away.

Okay, so I finally get to The Great Saltair. I leave my coat in the car even though it is pretty cold outside because I don’t want to deal with it. The building looks semi-grand from the outside, and when you get inside there is this ornate staircase that leads up to the Saltlick, the “private club” where you can drink. I decide not to go up there since I am not drinking this particular night. I stay down on the main floor which has no heat and is pretty run down and looks like it’s under construction.

I was wondering if the crowd would be more wholesome than other concert crowds and it does seem that way. No one is smoking and while there are about 250 people in the place, it looks like only about 20-25 are upstairs drinking. I’ve never been to a show alone and I find that I can’t help listening to the conversations around me. There are two college-age guys standing behind me and the conversation goes from being scared of life after college to one of them saying that they want to be married by the time they go to law school because he imagines law school would be hard being single. What? Guys don’t WANT to get married. Yes, this is a different kind of crowd. One of the two guys is totally psyched to see Under the Influence of Giants because they have seen them before. Okay, now I’m not psyched to see UTIOG because they are and five minutes ago they were slamming Queen.

John Ralston comes on stage and as he and the band strike the opening chords, a sound so loud (feedback?) blasts so loudly from the speakers that everyone is putting their fingers in their ears. He tries again and the sound is deafening. He drops his guitar and walks off stage and that’s all we see of him all night. As the technical folks come onstage working on the issue, I wince every time someone gets close to a microphone afraid of the noise.

The stage is set for Under The Influence of Giants. They come on stage and make up for the wait. Unexpectedly, I love their set. They have tons of energy and the music is fun and a real mixture of things. I was all set for more of a disco sound because of what I knew of them (Mama’s Room). There’s definitely the Nile Rogers disco guitar mixed in and some Bee Gees harmonies but other stuff as well. The bassist was the most fun of the whole show. Let me describe his outfit. He had on 70’s white pants with slit side pockets and tennis shoes, fingerless black winter gloves, a navy and orange Adidas warm-up jacket zipped all the way up, a white athletic headband, and mirrored sunglasses. He has shaggy hair and a full beard and he looked like Brian Wilson in his scruffy stage. He was full of energy, headbanging like he was a member of Motorhead. For most of the show the bottom half of his body was doing jumping jacks. The crowd loved him. The whole band made a real connection with the audience.

As for Rooney, all of the girls moved front and center when they came on stage. The guys that had been front and center for UTIOG were now gone or somewhere else in the venue. They sounded good but I guess they’re just not my thing. The lead singer kept saying “Silence is not welcome here” and trying to get the applause meter kicked up and the audience responded. I stuck around for the end of their set and then left before Ben Lee took the stage. --J

I Could Tell She Wasn’t 2 Bright, But When She Kissed Me, She Knew How 2 Get Her Kicks

The title of this post really has no bearing on this content except that it’s a lyric from Raspberry Beret, written by a Minneapolis musician, and this post is about a book written by a Minneapolis musician. I heard Rasberry Beret on the way to work this morning and that lyric just made me laugh for some reason.

Another business trip, another book read. I just finished reading So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star: How I Machine-Gunned a Roomful of Record Executives and Other True Tales from a Drummer’s Life by Jacob Slichter. Slichter was the drummer for the Minneapolis band Semisonic best known for the 90’s hit, Closing Time. The book was a little dry at times, but very enlightening. He reveals what it is like shopping a record around to various record labels and the fuzzy math used to determine an artist’s cut of the profits. It sounds like you’re making a deal with the devil. It also has a lot of great behind the scenes stuff about recording an album, shooting videos, and touring. There was no dramatic ending and the bandmates are still friends. Also, they didn’t have a meteoric rise or a bidding war for their album so the story is probably more like what the majority of artists signing a recording contract experience.

It is obvious from the book, as we all already guessed, that the record companies are sometimes so far out of touch with what the fans want. There is this hilarious bit in the book about Dan Wilson’s ramblings on stage in between songs when Semisonic would perform. The record company exec would be pissed because the ramblings would sometimes go on and on, yet the fans loved this.

If you’re interested in the music business, this book is good. You may find yourself skimming through the boring parts. I got the feeling that the author might have held back a bit not to hurt anyone’s feelings.
--J

Kickin’ Him When He’s Down

I was reading the news and I see that Kevin Federline practically got booed off the stage during his first live performance and now Britney has filed for divorce. The meal ticket is outta here. This weekend KFed made an appearance on VH1’s Top 20 Countdown, which my daughter, A. records each week. It was such a cringe-worthy interview. I felt bad for the VJ.

VJ: Explain the double meaning of his album title, Playing with Fire.
(This isn’t a direct quote from KFed but it’s damn close thanks to TiVo):
KFed: Well you know my situation is crazy with the media and people talking so this is my way to really talk back. It’s universal because it could go from their side [media] or my side. We were going over a bunch of titles and someone popped that out and that was it.

VJ: Why are you so dressed up on the cover of the his album:
KFed: I was doing a photo shoot and the pictures came out so well the computer put the fire in the cup and the cigarette on the side. (The computer? Wow.)

VJ: Who influenced your music?
KFed: I’m just a fan of good music and grew up with hip hop.

VJ: I hear you are a Phil Collins fan:
KFed: Yeah, that’s what I mean good music.

VJ: What’s your favorite Phil Collins song?
KFed: Oh man, I don’t know the title but the one where he’s a the end of the night (singing) I can feel it…
VJ: In the Air Tonight
KFed: There you go.

VJ: You’re a fan of Coldplay?
KFed: Yeah man the last album they just did was incredible. Ah you know I like the light show.
I watch a lot of people’s live shows and take a piece of everything and build my own.

What a poser. --J

The Zoso Experience- Judakris

To see Zoso was the first time we had been to Pop’s on a weekend night. The place was packed for an all ages show and all ages, from about four to about sixty-four, were represented. Side note: Let me just say that occasionally K and I, who have both lived in the South, get comments from colleagues about the backwardness of Southerners. Is there anything more redneck than having a child so young in age that you can carry them at a smoky bar on a Saturday night to see a Led Zeppelin cover band? I didn’t see that in the South. You can find redneck anywhere.

I really don’t know what to say about this experience. Pop’s has a lot of tribute bands on their calendar ranging from Zoso to Nirvana, Johnny Cash, Pantera, and Dave Matthews. I ran into a friend the other morning and we were discussing the plethora of tribute bands coming to Pop’s and she said the most puzzling to her was the Sublime tribute band. Yeah, do we really need that? Zoso sounded great and kind of looked like the original band. I found myself looking away to just listen to the music because if I stared at the band members I started to pick apart the physical differences between and the members of Led Zeppelin. Where was Robert Plant's signature voluptuous curls, and tight tight pants, and...well let's just say we all know Robert dresses to the left.

I guess I just don’t understand the tribute band. I remembered this morning that actually my first concert-going experience was to see Beatlemania, but I was in the fourth grade and knew nothing of the Beatles so it was all new to me. Are you going to see a tribute band because you were too young or you missed seeing your favorite band in their heyday? Are you going because you just want to hear that music live? To me, it comes up short. I would rather listen to the recorded music. However, by the crowd response, which was enormous, I am in the minority.

In Chuck Klosterman’s book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs he tells a hilarious tale of traveling with a Guns ‘N Roses cover band. The story is called “Appetite for Replication”. They get nervous pondering their fate every time Axl Rose starts threatening releasing the long-awaited album, Chinese Democracy. He’s threatening once again. --J

The other night J and I sat down and watched the oddly unmoving concert movie The Song Remains the Same. It was not the first Led Zeppelin moment we had had in the last few weeks. It seems that the band was coming up in conversations, on Rollingstone covers, and in books (Chuck Klosterman IV, specifically) I had been reading recently. I don’t know what the gods were trying to tell me, but perhaps it was to prepare me for the news that J had acquired free tickets to see renowned Led Zeppelin tribute band Zoso at Pops. Of course we would go.

Tribute bands have always been a slight curiosity for me. I’ve seen my share of cover bands, but tributes are something completely different. Tribute bands base their whole career on sonically and visually imitating a band. I always thought that major fans of the original band would be somehow repelled by this notion, but I learned that, at least in Zoso’s case, this isn’t true. In fact, J and I were two spectators in a venue of hundreds ranging from children to classic fans in their ripened years.

Zoso, who eerily portrayed the originals with great accuracy, launched into their 2-hour set with Rock and Roll, a great opener. They sang all the hits, including Immigrant Song, Whole Lotta Love, Over The Hills and Far Away, Misty Mountain Hop, and the crowd favorite Stairway to Heaven. We stayed much longer than we expected. For me, I was surprised at how much fun I was having watching a tribute band for my first time. For that I give this show an Unexpected!

On a side note, I read on their website bio page that when the band formed in LA in the mid 90s, each member “was selected to portray both the image and playing styles of Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Bonham, and John Paul Jones.” What does that mean they were selected? Who selected them? The wizard on the cliff? -K

The Black Parade - J's Take

I’ve given The Black Parade more than a few listens and while I like the album, there aren’t any songs that really jump out at me like some of the songs on Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. What I guess I would say about the new album is that if you are already a fan, you’ll like it, but I don’t imagine there will be a rush of converts. The one song I would remove from the album is Cancer. I agree with whoever in the band felt it was too literal. I am also kind of puzzled by the “album of the year” comments from some critics. Why is this album being taken so seriously when Three Cheers was not? On the way to a show this weekend, K and I were listening for Queen’s A Night at the Opera, a noted influence of The Black Parade. Listening to that album from start to finish, I really would say that My Chemical Romance is the closest modern day band carrying the torch for Queen. That’s a good thing. –J

Deal With It

There are some people who have a glass of wine and as soon as they start to feel warm they place their hand on top of their glass and decline further consumption. Then there are those of us who get to the warm feeling and are just getting started (hell yeah). Similarly, there are people who are like this with their bands. For some of us, the relationship with a band does not stop at the cd’s point of sale. Far from it. We start from there and move into an online expedition of photos (usually of one band member in particular), bios, articles, reviews, gossip forums, bootlegged acoustic versions, google alerts, youtube videos and interviews, etc., etc., etc… It can get intense and frankly seem a little weird to those that are not like this. It can get particularly intense if as a woman you’re like this and in a relationship with a real live person (as opposed to the relationship you’re in with your favorite band member in your head).
I know from personal experience that it can be a challenge to convince your boyfriend or husband that there is no real threat to him, except if the said rock idol finds you one day in the crowd and begs you to be with him. Most of us know that the likelihood of that happening is less than humanly imaginable. Believe me. I failed trying to make Gerard Way fall in love with me via Jedi mind trick when I met him. However, if you have ever made the poor decision to jokingly say this to your man then he may consider this guy a threat on some fucked up level. I had this friend, oh fuck it, I dated a guy once who was so upset that I had a picture of Jack White in my cubicle back in 2002 that he questioned my commitment to our relationship. An argument ensued at dinner that evening and I found myself unable to explain that he was not a disappointment to me, that I wasn’t in love with Jack White like I was with him, etc. It was asinine, but I realized that night that some guys really aren’t comfortable with their women being into a band or a band member to this degree. I had a similar conversation with another boyfriend about my fascination with Gerard Way. You just never know how a guy will react when you tell them what you’re into or they find out. But you know, not all are like that. Some prefer to approach this with humor. My friend, M, whose husband writes for a music publication down in Alabama, once asked him if he was at all threatened by her hobby of researching some of her favorite actors. His reply was, “honey, no, I’m not bothered by it. I worry how all your other guys feel when you add a new man to the collection of photos. It’s their feelings you need to consider.”
Below is a survival guide to dating or being married to a girl like me. Before you read it, you need to accept that this is a positive thing for us and we’re having a blast. Accept that you can’t change us, but you can change how you react towards us. You may benefit from this in your favorite way.

Don’t even think about injecting the word “stalker” when describing her obsession.
Do expect that she will reveal she knew you were hiding in her bushes for hours once during a messy breakup.

Don’t comment on the amount of time she spends chatting online with other fans or researching her band.
Do continue to spend all of your free time playing WOW and chatting it up with Joe from Jersey.

Don’t be surprised to find her HUGE collection of photos in her photobucket or fotki account and/or My Pictures folder.
Do realize that she is well aware of the amount of time you spend staring at your favorite pictures in your own personal stash.

Don’t call the lead singer a choad if he’s her favorite.
Do just keep your mouth shut, please.

Don’t snicker when you’re in Borders together and she scours the magazines looking for articles on her chosen idol of worship.
Do happen to pick up a magazine with her idol on the cover and surprise her with it upon your return home. More than likely she has this issue already, but it's always good to have two copies.

Don’t complain when she’s listening to her music and cleaning house.
Do put her music on one night when she’s not expecting it and then put your arms around her. You’re not expected to like it.

Don’t turn off her music in the car when she’s driving and insist that you listen to something good.
Do keep your hands off the cd player and stop complaining. If you don’t, she will catalog this and will start to question whether or not you respect her AT ALL.

Don’t make fun of the band’s video when she’s playing it or if it happens to come on tv.
Do let her critique the video if she wants to. She has a right to do this, but this is not an invitation for you to let loose.

Don’t call her obsession adolescent.
Do know that she is ready to recount the number of times you sulked and pouted when she wasn’t in the mood.

Don’t make comments about how many times she goes to see her band live.
Do send her an email alerting her when you find out her band is coming to town. More than likely she knew about this date 6 months ago and has her Ticketmaster alert setup, but the gesture will be extremely appreciated.

Don’t insist on going with her to the show because you are worried she will get backstage and run off with the band.
Do realize that this concern is unrealistic. Offer instead to drop her off and pick her up when she calls. She will probably want to get loaded while she’s having the time of her life and afterwards wait behind the venue to get an autograph.

Now, ladies, here's something to think about, too. Your guy being supportive does not mean you need to keep him abreast of your hobby. You know how you may accept/support him and his Suicide Girls membership or his porn collection, but he knows better than to talk about it with you too much? Same thing. Save your conversation for your girlfriends who are like you or fellow fans who give a damn.

Also, don't be crazy. Remember when Winona Ryder's character in Girl, Interrupted realizes that in order to get out of the psychiatric hospital she has to "act" normal? Always keep this in mind. Don't start balling in front of your loved one because your band didn't win best rock video on an award show no matter how much it hurts (and trust me I know it does). On the flipside, don't let your obsession turn you into the delusional fan that ends up approaching a singer with a pair of scissors causing him to rarely be seen sober in public. Don't blow this for us, Gene!

Everybody just deal! -K

Funk!

While K has been asking me what I think of My Chemical Romance’s new album, I have been preoccupied driving to and from work with a gem I recently picked up. Compilation CDs may be a bit passé in the time of iTunes playlists but I don’t care. It’s a Rhino records compilation CD called Millenium Funk Party. My daughter A. just doesn’t get the name and then I read the back of the CD case to her, which made her giggle. It says…

Dig---Why drop your bread on album after album to accentuate your party and clog up your 500-disc changer when all you gotta do is slip this bad boy in, slap “repeat”, and set the joint on fire? Easier than Minute Rice, funkier than gym class. Get down tonight.

There are a lot of good tunes on it, but my favorite is Marvin Gaye’s Got to Give It Up (Pt. 1). If the percussion in that song doesn’t make you want to dance, there may be something physically wrong with you.

P.S. I've gotten more phone calls and emails from out-of-towners who have read the recent report that St. Louis is the most dangerous city, instead of the World Series win. I talked to one person in my office who feels as though that report was media sabotage, released to purposely steal the thunder of the victory. I don't know about crime but conspiracy theory is alive and well in St. Louis. --J

The Way Out Club

Last Friday night my friend V and I went to the Way Out Club in St. Louis. I don’t know if it was the fact that it was the weekend before Halloween, that the weather was ominously creepy, or that we had had too much Vampire wine at Van Goghz before heading there, but it was a fascinating night out.

An exposed tit propositioning you outside the men’s restroom is pretty unexpected, isn’t it? At least, I imagine it was unexpected for my friend V who returned from a trip to the men’s room and told me this story.

What I have found in my 30s, is that you might look at something completely meaningless and your thoughts will immediately lead you down a path to something that lies in your subconscious. Since it was the Friday night before Halloween, the patronage at the club was decked out in Halloween regalia. Fantastic costumes gave us plenty to admire while enjoying our own conversation at our little table. In the dim lights we saw a beauty queen walk in. She was tall and pretty. As she approached us we realized she was Carrie, complete with pig blood. After commenting on her crown and how much it reminded him of the Statue of Liberty, V said to me in all seriousness “This country is bleeding, man. It’s bleeding.”

Anyway, The Gentleman Callers were really enjoyable for the first few songs, but then they started to bleed together a little bit. What killed me was the faux German accent the lead singer sported in between songs. At one point he addressed his keyboardist, Seth, who was decked out in 18th century garb, and said “we play ze maschines, but do ze maschines play us?”

I just want to say thank you to the guy who barricaded the door to the guy’s bathroom for me to make sure no one came in while I was using it. I don’t remember why I chose to use the guy’s bathroom, but it seemed like a necessary idea at the time. -K

Death's Soundtrack

I heard about this poll on Chicago Public Radio's Sound Opinions and like them, couldn't believe the results...


I shouldn't be surprised by some of these selections. In fact, if this poll was done in America, some of the Brit artists like Robbie Williams would be replaced by some extremely literal country songs. My mother-in-law died this year and my sister-in-law picked out the music for the funeral service which included a country song where the singer was pleading with the listener to not be sad because they were in a better place. My husband H. was sitting at the front of the funeral home with immediate family and even in that most somber moment, turned to me and gave me a look like, "What the hell is this?"

H. always says that I tend to answer a question with a question but when I was thinking about what I might choose for my funeral, the only thing that ran through my head was, how do I die? Depending on that, the musical selection would be quite different.

What's the moral to this story? James Blunt still sucks and people with bad musical taste die. --J