www.PAULGARGANO.com

Nickelback plan for Thanksgiving in Detroit

2011-11-22T10:55:00.000-08:00

Nickelback responds to NFL Petition from Nickelback

Jason Charles Miller releases 'Uncountry'

2011-10-11T01:23:00.000-07:00

Solo Debut Explores Rural Roots & Classic Country Influence

GUESTS INCLUDE:
“Cowboy” Eddie Long [Jamey Johnson, Hank Williams Jr.]
Jim “Moose” Brown [Brad Paisley, Blake Shelton]
Adam Shoenfeld [Big & Rich, Jason Aldean] and more...

Sunset Strip Album Release Party Friday, Oct. 14, at On The Rox

October 11, 2011 – What do Los Angeles and Nashville have in common? Jason Charles Miller answers that question on Uncountry, his full-length solo debut released today.

Written and recorded between Miller’s Los Angeles studio and frequent songwriting trips to Nashville, the album marks a radical departure from the Godhead frontman’s rock and industrial pedigree, embracing the bare bones of his singer-songwriter roots and the primal influence of artists including Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young and Willie Nelson.

The first single from Uncountry is the album’s title track, and the video [watch here] stars Miller hamming up his country upbringing at the request of his manager, portrayed by actor Robert Picardo [Stargate: Atlantis, CSI: NY]. The video also features Mythbusters star Grant Imahara and actress Angie Savage. The 10-track album, released on Miller’s own Count Mecha Music, includes writing collaborations with Bart Almand [Brooks & Dunn], Kris Burgness [Tim McGraw], Jon Nite [Blake Shelton, Chris Young] and Chuck Goff [Toby Keith], and performances by “Cowboy” Eddie Long [Jamey Johnson, Hank Williams Jr.], Jim “Moose” Brown [Brad Paisley, Blake Shelton] and Adam Shoenfeld [Big & Rich, Jason Aldean].

Miller’s solo career was launched on the HBO hit series True Blood, where his single “You Get What You Pay For” debuted and instantly became a highlight in his live sets. The song’s video [watch here] co-stars Felicia Day [The Guild] and Greg Grunberg [Heroes, Lost], and the track is currently in production for play on the X-box platform of the Rock Band video games.

After landing coveted support slots opening for Toby Keith, Eric Church, Gary Allan and Justin Moore in recent months, Miller will celebrate his debut album with a CD release party Friday, October 14, at On The Rox on the historic Sunset Strip in West Hollywood, CA.

In addition to being available on all digital platforms, Uncountry is being sold in physical formats (including several promotional bundles) through Miller’s website: www.jasoncharlesmiller.com.

SALES LINKS:
Uncountry iTunes sales link
Uncountry Amazon sales link
Uncountry physical CD and promotional bundles

VIDEO LINKS:
“Uncountry”
“You Get What You Pay For”

UNCOUNTRY TRACK LISTING / WRITING CREDITS:
1.“Uncountry" [JCM & Randall Clay]
2.“The Dotted Line” [JCM]
3.“The River” [JCM & Bart Almand]
4.“You Must Have Loved Me A Lot” [JCM & Chuck Goff]
5.“You Get What You Pay For” [JCM, Jon Nite & Dave Rivers]
6.“Learn To Live With It” [JCM]
7.“Into Temptation” [JCM, Phil Barton & Kris Burgness
8.“Still Doing Time” [JCM & Eric Berdon]
9.“The Devil” [JCM]
10.“Drag Me Down” [JCM]

FOR MORE INFORMATION: www.jasoncharlesmiller.com

Missing the Big 4 at Yankee Stadium Sucks!10 Experiences that Help Ease My Pain...

2011-09-14T09:10:00.000-07:00

I'm devastated to be missing the Big 4 at Yankee Stadium today. But to be perfectly honest, only because I'm missing Anthrax.

I've been a die-hard New York Yankees fan for as long as I can remember, and Anthrax are my favorite metal band. No disrespect to Megadeth, Slayer and Metallica, but I saw them all at the Southern California Big 4 - their Bronx experience will likely be the same.

But missing out on the opportunity to stand on the same Yankee Stadium infield as Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriquez, Robinson Cano and Mark Texiera and revel in the performance of a band that I'm blessed to call friends? A band that are excited beyond words to play on the hallowed ground of a team they love as much as I do, and in the city they call home? That's the type of once in a lifetime opportunity I'm fairly certain I'll never have a chance to experience again.

Which got me to thinking: while I am missing out on this epic afternoon, I have had my share of chances to experience pop-culture history firsthand - here are ten of my favorites...

10. Yankees vs Braves, Game 4 of 1996 World Series
Since we're talking Yankee Stadium, I'll start with the Yankees, who played the Braves in the 1996 World Series. My Bronx Bombers lost the first two games of the series at home, then won Game 3 in Atlanta. I was in Atlanta and had tickets to Game 4, and it was ugly, New York trailing 6-0 after five innings. They had narrowed the margin to 6-3 when Jim Leyritz came to bat in the eighth inning facing Braves closer Mark Wohlers with two runners on - he took him deep, hitting a three-run homer to tie the game. The Yankees would go on to win 8-6 in extra innings, and win the Series in six. One of the most memorable long-balls in Yankee history, and I was there!

9. Lions vs Packers, 1994 NFC Wildcard game
Staying on the sports tip, I had a field pass for the 1994 NFC Wildcard game, where the Green Bay Packers hosted the Detroit Lions in the first found of the NFL playoffs on December 31, 1994. I worked for the Associated Press and was assigned to pre-game coverage in the parking lot - no small feat at Lambeau Field, one of the world's most sacred stadiums and host to some of greatest fans in sports. I needed to file my story and notes when the game started, which took most of the first half - I spent the rest of the game standing on the Green Bay sideline watching the Packers defense dominate the Lions, holding Hall of Fame running back Barry Sanders to -1 yard, and the entire Detroit offense to -4 yards on the ground. Brett Favre ran out the clock by scrambling into his own end zone and giving up an intentional safety to seal the 16-12 Packers victory.

8. Anthrax, House of Blues Anaheim (October 27, 2004)
What was so special about this show? I'll tell you... Frank Bello had briefly left the band, and this tour featured Armored Saint's Joey Vera on bass for Anthrax. But here's where things get crazy - Frank joined Helmet, who also had a show in Anaheim, CA, this night. Helmet's show ended in time for Frank to attend the Anthrax show, and I sat in the front row of the balcony and watched Anthrax - sitting next to Frank Bello. How freaking surreal is that for a piece of Anthrax history that only about a half-dozen of us can share?

7. 2011 Sunset Strip Music Festival
I recently wrote a detailed review of this slice of history, which you can read here. In a nutshell? I experienced The Doors on Friday night at the legendary Whisky A Go Go, then saw Motley Crue headline the third annual street festival Saturday night, literally performing on the Sunset Strip. Two bands that made the Sunset Strip famous, back-to-back. It never happened before, and will likely never happen again.

6. VH1 Behind the Music - Megadeth
I'm no stranger to VH1, but there are a few appearances that stand out for me, including being a featured guest on The List and providing commentary for the Behind The Music on The Cult. But the appearance I'm most proud of? Being featured in the Megadeth Behind the Music. The band is in a dead heat with Anthrax as my favorite metal band, and this was an honor I will forever cherish. We did the interviews at the video shoot for "Motopsycho," and Dave Mustaine was apparently pretty nervous about what I'd say - I'd been a bit too honest about my feelings regarding the Risk album in Metal Edge, and he was worried those sentiments might roll over to the documentary. I'll never forget him coming up to me after reviewing the footage and thanking me for my support and friendship. He remains my favorite personality in metal, bar none.

5. Contributing to David Lee Roth's autobiography
From my favorite personality in metal, to my favorite personality in music - Diamond Dave! I reviewed his Crazy From The Heat autobiography for Metal Edge when it came out in 1998, and apparently Dave took a liking to what I wrote. I was sitting at my desk one morning (not early morning, trust me), and the phone rang - it was Eddie Anderson, David Lee Roth's right hand man. He said that David Lee Roth had a favor to ask (I still can't wrap my head around that, but those were his words!) - the man has been my muse for as long as I've known how to write a sentence, and he wanted to know if he could use part of my book review as the back cover of his softcover release. Ready for the kicker? Eddie proceeded to explain that Dave was not a fan of Metal Edge's history, but he was a fan of mine - would I mind if he just attributed the quote to me, and didn't acknowledge the magazine at all... I've had the pleasure of hanging with Dave many, many times - he even introduced me to John F. Kennedy Jr. - and as great as those memories are, nothing will top the honor of being immortalized on the back cover of his book.

4. Working with the original lineup of KISS
I grew up on KISS, and Alive II was the first record I ever bought. I'll never forget walking out of Caldors with the album... Who knew that someday I'd make KISStory? To the best of my knowledge, there's not another person on this planet that has interviewed all four original members of KISS, done a band photo shoot with all four original members, and photographed an entire live show featuring all four original members. I can literally write a book of my KISS experiences, and have the photos to document them all - who knows, maybe someday. An honor and a privilege that I don't take for granted.

3. Ozzy Osbourne plays me Under Cover
I've had countless bands play me their new music before it's been released (or even completed, for that matter), but never quite like this... I was invited to the Osbourne house to interview Ozzy in summer 2005, and when we were done with the interview he asked me if I wanted to hear some of the songs he mentioned while we were talking - uhm, hell yeah! Ozzy leads me into his study and proceeds to play me selections from the Under Cover album on his stereo, with stories and explanations of each. I had tears in my eyes as he played me John Lennon's "Woman" after explaining how he recorded it for Sharon... Yeah, I wiped tears from eyes in front of Ozzy - what's more metal than that? Ozzy fucking rules. Period.

2. Paul McCartney & Roger Waters at Coachella
These shows were the perfect storms. I was raised on oldies, not the Beatles, so I discovered the Fab Four late in life - but when I fell, I fell hard and fast (I swear I appreciate them more as a result). A friend asked me to see McCartney at the Staples Center with him several years ago, and I was an instant convert. The Beatles are my wife's favorite band, and I absorbed the inner depths of their catalog like a sponge. Being able to see McCartney headline Coachella in 2009 with my wife and some of our closest friends was a celebration I'll never forget and one of the greatest concert experiences of my life. Roger Waters headlined Coachella on his Dark Side of the Moon tour the following year, and that was a much more personal experience for me - Pink Floyd are one of my favorite bands of all-time, and the set was an epiphany. Practically a religious experience...

1. Pope Benedict XVI leading mass at the Vatican
Yes, I realize I just called Roger Waters a religious experience - but music means that much to me. My wife and I went to Italy for our honeymoon and our time in Rome coincided with a mass Pope Benedict was celebrating at St. Peter's Basilica on October 9, 2008, commemorating the 50th anniversary of Pope Pius XII's death. We didn't expect to be able to attend, but we wanted to try... We found ourselves in a Vatican line that we assumed was for sightseeing, and when we passed through security and got to the front they told us we couldn't go further unless we were attending the mass. We said we were - and it was really that simple! It was literally a religious experience - Pope Benedict passed within a few feet of us, and people reacted as you'd expect, but also as you could never imagine. Think of the biggest celebrity in the world - this was a hundred times that. This topped anything I've ever experienced in music.

ALBUM REVIEW: Anthrax 'Worship Music'

2011-09-12T11:42:00.001-07:00

Disclaimer: I love Anthrax.

We're not talking casual love, we're talking about the kind of love I had to confess to my wife before we got married - fortunately, she shares my affinity for the greatest hard rock/metal band to come from New York that never recorded an album named Love Gun. I make this confession because I want there to be a frame of reference as I proceed - Persistence of Time is one of my favorite records of all time, I view Joey Belladonna and John Bush as equals, and Charlie Benante and Frank Bello are my holy trinity of rhythm sections (they're so good, they each count as 1 1/2 - Geddy Lee and Neil Peart can't be a trinity because they each count as two)...

Which brings us to Worship Music - the first Anthrax studio album in more than 20 years to feature frontman Joey Belladonna, their first album in more than a decade to not include an appearance by legendary Who frontman Roger Daltrey, and the band's second album in a row to feature the heaviest logo in metal, the twisted 'A is for Anthrax' pentagram. The album title says it all - Worship Music will restore our faith in metal and drop us to our knees as we beg for more. It's a game-changer in a day-and-age where the game has gotten so cluttered, not sucking has become high praise.

But Anthrax are about to change all that.

Worship Music is nothing short of brilliant. It isn't a half-ass collection intended to remind fans of a band's glory years, it is an hour of head-melting metal performed by a band that have not only rediscovered their superpowers, they've taken them to the next level.

At the forefront is Joey Belladonna, who unleashes the most impressive studio performance of his career - his vocals are like a wrecking ball metronome, a pitch-perfect demonstration of what can happen when you decry screaming and put a singer at the helm of a metal band. He pushes the sprawling "Judas Priest" to unprecedented highs, unleashing a vocal beast that matches the might of both "In My World" and John Bush's "Packaged Rebellion." The magic is in his control and restraint - where most metal throats sound like they're always pushing to 11, Belladonna is overpowering while never sounding like he needs to take it past 8. He's so good he doesn't even need to hit 10, but he never leaves us doubting that he can.

That's always been the beauty of Anthrax - they are masters of reeling us in, but never take us too far. They crush us with heavy, but they never sacrifice rhythm, melody or groove. Where most metal bands are about posturing, Anthrax are about the songs, and they bludgeon us with graceful nuances - instead of overwhelming us with noise, they leave us just enough room to thrash along in our mind's own private mosh pit.

Scott Ian and Rob Caggiano are an 18 wheeler of diesel-powered guitar strings, putting the pedal to the metal on opening track "Earth on Hell," tightening the reigns on "The Devil You Know" and laying a riff-driven battle charge on "Fight 'Em 'Till You Can't." "I'm Alive" downshifts, Anthrax unleashing an air-to-surface squadron that blankets the track in a dark veil of gang-powered choruses.

Picking up momentum as they go, "In The End" marks the midway point with an epic battle cry of looming dusk raging into the darker depths of the album's second half. "The Giant" thrashes with an unrelenting fury, Belladonna's vocals again packing a punch that rivals the power of anything in the Anthrax catalog, while "Crawl" is a fire-breathing climb into the stomp of "The Constant" and the blitzkrieg of the closing colossus "Revolution Screams."

And it wouldn't be an Anthrax album without a mind-blowing cover - this time around we're delivered a foundation-rattling run through "New Noise," originally recorded by the Swedish punk and underground favorites Refused. It's a hidden gem that kicks in just past the 11-minute mark of the six-minute "Revolution Screams."

Worship Music is more than just the hard rock/heavy metal album of the year, it is an immediate classic in the Anthrax catalog, its name to be proudly hailed in the same breath as Among the Living and Persistence of Time... Yes, this album is that fucking good.

LINKS
Worship Music on iTunes
Worship Music on Amazon

September 11, 2001 - Never Forget!We the People Need to Remember 9/11

2011-09-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

I'll never forget the events of 9/11.

I was staying at the W hotel in Chicago, where I had flown in for the band Soil's CD release party for the album Scars, one of several great records that was to be released that day.

My college roommate and his girlfriend had driven down from Milwaukee the night before and spent the night in the room, and our cellphones started ringing shortly after 7:45 am - and we ignored them. But Christian's mother is persistent. He finally answered, half asleep, and I heard, "yes mother, we'll turn on the news when we wake up..." He then mumbled something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center, which we all assumed was a prop plane or twin engine... We commented on the tragedy, but weren't awake enough to really grasp the potential gravity of the situation.

Then my girlfriend called from Los Angeles, and considering it was barely sunrise there, I knew I had to answer - she told me to turn on CNN. At this point, it was about ten minutes after American Airlines Flight 11 had impacted the World Trade Center North Tower.

My college roommate and I were political nuts and news junkies - and we, like most Americans, never even thought to imagine that the first crash was a terrorist attack.

Then we watched United Airlines Flight 175 fly into the World Trade Center South Tower live.

How much have the events of that morning changed our lives? When we went to bed on September 10, 2011, we lived in a country where terrorism wasn't even a consideration. When we woke up the next morning, terrorism became the new assumption.

From the moment that second plane impacted the World Trade Center, every horrific act of the next decade has been a suspected act of terrorism until proven otherwise.

So there we sat for the next several hours, sitting in the hotel room glued to CNN in awe of the events unfolding before us.

For me it hit even closer to home - I'm New York at heart, and was raised an hour north of the city. I had moved from Manhattan to Los Angeles a few months earlier, and watching the chaos that enveloped what I still consider home, I felt paralyzed by despair and hopelessness.

Then the Pentagon was hit by American Airlines Flight 77, and the rumors started - the next plane is heading for the Capitol... The White House... The Sears Tower... The Sears Tower was located only a few blocks from our hotel in downtown Chicago, and our lobby became something of an evacuation hotbed.

Soil were flying home from Florida for the night's release party at the time of the attacks, and it took us the better part of the morning to confirm they were alive and well. We were lucky to even find out - it seemed like everyone I knew on the East Coast had a personal connection to the attacks, and very few people had answers.

Cell phones weren't working in Manhattan, and those who were safe had virtually no way to communicate with their loved ones. I had an acquaintance who, for three days, we thought died in one of the towers - it took him that long to start reaching out to people after the initial shock of the day's events had subsided and he'd finally been reunited with his wife and children in New Jersey.

Streets and highways were closed. Mass transit shut down. It was a war zone in lower Manhattan, and New York was bracing itself for any potential attacks that might come next.

In wake of the three successful attacks, when United Airlines Flight 93 did a nosedive into a desolate field near Shanksville, PA, instantly killing everyone on board, its passengers became instant heroes, sacrificing themselves to spare America yet another symbolic battle scar on the most horrific day of our young country's history.

Realizing that I wouldn't be returning to L.A. anytime soon, I drove back to Milwaukee with my roommate that afternoon on what was the emptiest I94 I've ever experienced. We went to grab a few drinks that night, and the feeling in the off-the-beaten-path Milwaukee bar couldn't be more somber.

New York was attacked, but America felt the pain. People who knew New York from little more than Friends and Seinfeld episodes felt united as a people. I'm not talking about me and my roommate, who had eaten in the World Trade Center Windows on the World restaurant a few years earlier with his grandmother - I'm talking about people who had never left a two hour radius of their Midwest home, but suddenly felt a patriotism like never before.

If there was good to come from the attacks, that was it - America was united in tragedy. We weren't Democrats and Republicans, we were Americans. We weren't an East Coast and West Coast looking down our noses at each other with superiority complexes, we were bookends of a great nation standing united, tall, proud and together. In the weeks that followed, all the political bullshit that tears our country apart was nothing but a hazy mist in our rear view mirror.

We were Americans, and we were one people. We believed in our government, and we believed in each other. We embraced the freedom that makes our country great, and we understood what that freedom meant to the rest of the world. We weren't afraid to be strong, because we had no other option.

For the first time, my generation had to be strong because my generation couldn't be weak. We were raised soft, but now we knew what it meant to live hard... Not as hard as our ancestors, but this was our test, and we would rise from the ashes.

Or so we thought.

In time, America forgot. Republicans returned to their role as boogeyman, and Democrats returned to their pulpits, preaching that the only way to be a country again is to change the very principals our nation was built upon.

Americans soon forgot what it was like to be one nation under God (whoever that God may be), because it is easier to be a nation divided. It is easier to blame the other side than it is to fight for change, and it is easier to live in the now than it is to learn from our past and build for a better future.

9/11 changed America - but we live in a country with Attention Deficit Disorder. We live in a land where it is easier to read the headline than it is to understand the story. And we live in a country where it is easier to make excuses than it is to hunker down and get the job done.

America changed, but it didn't take long for America to change back.

America forgot.

America needs to remember - and America needs to never forget what happened on September 11, 2001.

SUNSET STRIP MUSIC FESTIVAL 2011Motley Crue & The Doors Recreate History

2011-08-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

I love history.

Over the past two decades I've been blessed enough to experience firsthand a lot of rock and roll history in the making. Through it all, had anyone told me I would have had the chance to relive the history that got us here, I'd have called them crazy. But that is exactly what happened at this year's Sunset Strip Music Festival.

While most fans looked at the lineup and saw a chance to see Motley Crue and Tommy Lee's remarkable roller coaster drum solo, Public Enemy bring the noise, and Bush return to the Hollywood limelight as part of the annual street festival that shuts down the Sunset Strip between San Vicente and Doheny, I saw significantly more.

I saw the rare opportunity to see two of the biggest acts responsible for shaping the Sunset Strip, on the very grounds they grew up on, on back-to-back nights - Ray Manzarek and Robby Krieger of The Doors performing Friday night, August 19 at the historic Whisky A Go Go, their late-'60s mecca, and Motley Crue performing on the Sunset Strip itself Saturday night, on a stage constructed in front of the Key Club and just a stone's throw from the legendary Rainbow Bar & Grill.

While we can never go back, this proved as close to recreating history as we can get, and it was a landmark for event organizers - where other festivals plug big ticket acts into formulas, losing any sense of chemistry, personality and individuality in the process, this year's SSMF was the epitome of everything a festival should be.

The third annual Sunset Strip Music Festival was more than relevant, it boasted the biggest and best its very name had to offer. It delivered more than hit singles, presenting a unique and once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to relive the unadulterated color that lights and haunts the Strip so many of us frequent on a nightly basis, and so many more people can only read about.

The Doors at the Whisky, and Motley Crue on the Sunset Strip - history recreated! And that was just the beginning...

I'd seen The Doors exactly two weeks earlier, headlining the Pacific Amphitheater at the Orange County Fair on August 5. The show was phenomenal, and the best I've ever seen Manzarek and Krieger - as much as I loved seeing Cult frontman Ian Astbury front a modern-day incarnation of the band Jim Morrison made famous, no frontman since Morrison has worked as well as current vocalist Dave Brock.

Recruited from Doors tribute act Wild Child, Brock is the perfect vehicle to deliver fans the ultimate 21st century Doors experience. He's studied Morrison, and from his moves through to his inflections pays tribute to not only the songs, but also the iconic figure that brought the music to life. That reverence is precisely what puts Brock head and shoulders above anyone who's sang for Manzarek and Krieger since the untimely death of Mr. Mojo Risin on July 3, 1971.

Where the Orange County show featured The Doors (that's not what they're billed as, but that's what I insist on calling them) at their big-stage best, the Whisky show was nothing short of a revelation. The intimate room was packed from wall to wall, so much so that trying to navigate the mass to even get a drink on the main floor was an exercise in futility - looking down from the balcony, you couldn't see an inch of floor... and the energy was palpable.

Seeing Manzarek, Krieger and company at the Whisky A Go Go is akin to seeing Joe DiMaggio manning center field at the old Yankee Stadium or Vince Lombardi pacing the Lambeau Field sidelines - and that point was driven home with the opening notes of "Roadhouse Blues." "Whisky Song" and "Strange Days" were sublime, "Peace Frog" resonates as much today as it did the day it was written, and there wasn't a more impacting pair of songs than the mind-opening anthem "Break on Through" into the epic wash of "When the Music's Over."

In a word, it was magical. "The Changeling" and "Not to Touch the Earth" awoke the spirits that built the Whisky A Go Go, punching through the decades and bringing the venue to life with their timeless vibrato and eternal swagger. I often say I was born a generation too late, and the music of The Doors is part of my argument. Being able to experience them in this setting was a dream come true... The irony is, long before I grew to appreciate The Doors it was the music of my generation that made me the music fan that I am - and Sunset Strip Music Festival headliners Motley Crue are one of the bands most responsible for my voyage.

I've seen Motley Crue dozens of times and in every permutation, and the best Crue show I've ever seen was this summer, June 14 at the Hollywood Bowl. The band has never sounded better, Mick Mars laying guitar licks better than most players a third his age, the set perfectly paced to accommodate Vince Neil's vocals, Nikki Sixx every bit the iconic blend of bastard brilliance and phantom presence, and Tommy Lee turning the Crue-niverse on end with a drum solo that makes all his historic exploits pale in comparison. And the face paint is back!

Their 11-song, tour-ending and SSMF-closing set was all that and more - yes, a few songs were shaved from their standard set and their twisted carnival spectacle was scaled down a tad for the custom-made street stage, but the spirit of the event more than made up for a few less bells and whistles.

I was standing, literally, under the Sunset and Wetherly street signs, a constant reminder of just how cool it was to be seeing one of the most infamous bands in Sunset Strip history, on the Strip that they helped make famous. It was a set of classics, but highlights were "Saints of Los Angeles" (an instant new classic) and "Primal Scream," which offered the ideal sonic flare of an introduction to Tommy Lee's already legendary looping roller coaster drum solo.

Motley Crue celebrate their 30th anniversary as a band this year, and there may not be a more stirring testament to their lasting power and authority as a band than the performance they delivered at the Sunset Strip Music Festival. This wasn't a crowd of Motley Crue diehards, it was a mixed bag of metalheads, hipsters, rockers and wanna-bes - all bonded by the energy of the Crue kicking ass on the concrete wildside that spawned their Motley legend. They blew their home sweet home sky high on this Saturday night, and proved that they've still got plenty of gas left in the tank.

Motley Crue aren't waxing nostalgic, they're at the top of their game.

Bush has always been one of my favorite rock acts to emerge from the '90s, and they didn't disappoint in their late-afternoon slot before Motley Crue on the Strip's West Stage. Gavin Rossdale has never been known for his pristine vocals, but it's the subtle imperfections and the warmth in his tone that give the songs their character - that character prevailed on hits including "Machinehead," "Comedown" and "Glycerine," and transformed a cover of The Beatles' "Come Together" into a euphoric celebration. And while it may not have been a moment of zen, after all the times I've seen Bush live, it was pretty cool to actually hear the line, "Should I fly to Los Angeles, find my asshole brother..." while seeing the band in the City of Angels.

Representing the opposite side of the country, Public Enemy turned the East Stage into their own terrordome, where they had the predominantly white crowd losing their shit to such suburban anthems as "911 is a Joke" and "By the Time I Get to Arizona." I kid, I kid, but there is great amusement in watching some of the whitest people in the history of white turn into hip-hopping gangsters. To each their own, it was just tough to tell at times if people were seriously into the show, or just playing along a bit too exuberantly amid the comfort of their own crowd. There were a lot of memories in the set for me - Public Enemy was the first act I ever covered as a journalist, and it was cool as hell seeing them joined onstage by Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian for "Bring The Noise."

I missed Buckcherry at The Roxy Friday night because their set was at the same time as The Doors, but I had friends at the show who said they were fantastic. I did hit The Roxy Thursday night and was completely blown away by Nico Vega, who delivered a set that was lush, frenetic and beautiful - it may not have been metal heavy, but it was kick your ass and move your soul heavy, and in this case that proved twice as powerful.

SUNSET STRIP MUSIC FESTIVAL SETLISTS:

RAY MANZAREK & ROBBY KRIEGER OF THE DOORS
1-Roadhouse Blues
2-Love Me Two Times
3-Alabama Song (Whisky Bar)
4-Back Door Man
5-Strange Days
6-Peace Frog / Blue Sunday
7-Break On Through
8-When The Music's Over
9-Love Her Madly
10-Hyacinth House
11-Touch Me
12-The Changeling
(into "Chain of Fools" / "Sunshine of Your Love")
13-Not To Touch The Earth
14-Riders on the Storm
15-L.A. Woman
ENCORE
16-Light My Fire

MOTLEY CRUE
1-Wildside
2-Saints of Los Angeles
3-Livewire
4-Shout at the Devil
5-S.O.S. (Same Ol' Situation)
6-Home Sweet Home
7-Primal Scream
(drum solo)
8-Dr. Feelgood
9-Girls, Girls, Girls
10-Smokin' in the Boys Room
11-Kickstart My Heart

BUSH
1-Machinehead
2-All My Life
3-Little Things
4-The Chemicals Between Us
5-Afterlife
6-Everything Zen
7-The Sound of Winter
8-Glycerine
9-Come Together
10-Comedown

Happy Fourth of July!

2011-07-04T11:04:00.000-07:00

Freedom doesn't come without a price - as we celebrate our independence, let's take a moment to remember the price we've paid and the responsibilities we have... Happy fourth of July!

Who is Owl Stretching? Who? Who?Start with Saigon Kick, and add evolution...

2011-06-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

When Chris McLernon called me this week and told me about his next venture, I was a little confused.

"Owl Stretching!" he said proudly.

"Bowel stretching?" I asked.

"Owl Stretching," he repeated.

"Bowel stretching?" I asked again.

"No, Owl Stretching - without the B," he responded, somewhat frustrated.

"Bowel stretching when you need to pee?" I countered, resisting the urge to launch into a diatribe about how nice it would be if the actual phone on an iPhone worked as well as the camera.

"OWL, with an O!" he said, enunciating as clearly as possible.

"Yeah, I know," I finally admitted, "I was just being a dick..."

Kidding aside, I love Owl Stretching as a band name - maybe not for three run-of-the-mill musicians hacking it out on the local scene, but there couldn't be a better name for a band comprised of McLernon, Jason Bieler and Ricky Sanders.

If the members sound familiar, that's because they are - Owl Stretching is Saigon Kick.

But they're not rehashing their history and reliving the past in this new outfit, they are carving out a new future based on where they've been in the decade-plus since Saigon Kick disbanded.

For those that don't know Saigon Kick, you're missing out - they emerged in the early '90s, and have just as much in common with Jane's Addiction as they did with many of their hard rock brethren of the day. Jason Bieler was the band's fulcrum and virtuoso guitarist - he would later become lead singer, as well, when the band parted ways with their original frontman. McLernon was the band's longest-tenured bassist, and Ricky Sanders was the band's drummer when they disbanded in the late-'90s.

So why not just call it Saigon Kick? Because it isn't Saigon Kick. Owl Stretching is what happened after Saigon Kick, as well as what will happen next. Yes, they will play Saigon Kick material live, but this is just as much about a new band, for a new place in their lives.

And, in case you're wondering, the name is a Monty Python reference... Do you really think Bieler and McLernon would have it any other way?

LINKS
Owl Stretching website
Owl Stretching on Twitter
Chris McLernon on Twitter
Jason Bieler on Twitter

Paul Gargano on Twitter

SINGLE: Limp Bizkit "Gold Cobra"

2011-06-06T17:14:00.001-07:00

I've always liked Limp Bizkit - they know their way around a hook and their songs are catchy as all hell. And now, best I can tell, it seems they're the first major-label rock band to employ an aborigine as a guitarist... I love this group shot because you can see the fear in bassist Sam Rivers' eyes - he just wants the photos to end before he gets speared by Fred Durst's new jungle friend. (Ya gotta love Wes!)

Check out new single "Gold Cobra" below, the title track from the band's album of the same name, due to hit streets June 28.

Until then, you can take that cookie and stick it up your...

LIMP BIZKIT ON TWITTER
Fred Durst
Wes Borland
DJ Lethal
Sam Rivers
John Otto

Paul Gargano on Twitter

Cinderella: 25th Anniversary Tour(06.02.11 - House of Blues Sunset, L.A.)

2011-06-03T14:22:00.000-07:00

The blues don't grow old, and they never go out of style - the same can be said for Cinderella, who celebrated their 25th Anniversary in Hollywood Thursday night.

Going back about 15 years, I inadvertently insulted a member of the band with what I thought was high praise, calling them one of my favorite acts of their era. Said band member found that to be a back-handed compliment (at best), and some good-natured (ok, maybe mean-spirited) jostling in online forums ensued. We eventually kissed and made up - so of course I made it a point to say hello after the show last night. "Great show," I told him, "don't worry, you're still my favorite band of your..."

What can I say, the more things change, the more they stay the same - Cinderella remain one of my favorite bands to graduate from the mid/late-'80s hard rock scene. In fact, they're one of the only bands "of their era" that I actually like more now than I did then, which says a lot about the lasting power of their music.

The funny thing is, I'm not alone in that sentiment - at least a half-dozen people in the balcony at the House of Blues Sunset also said Cinderella were their "favorite band of the era" (their words, not mine) and, judging from the packed floor, the feelings downstairs were mutual.

When I told Chris Cornell that Soundgarden were my favorite band from their era, he didn't get offended (he thanked me). I'd never tell Maynard Keenan that Tool is my favorite band of his era, only because I know it would lead to him debating me on what era he's from - like me, he's the type that would argue that a blue sky is red just to amuse himself. If I told Tony Bennett he was my favorite of his era, he'd probably tell me why Frank Sinatra should be...

My point? There's no shame in being the best at what you do, and Cinderella are among the best at what they do. They deliver hard rock with a simmering blues base, equal parts Aerosmith and Led Zeppelin, without being copycats. And like all good artists should, they evolved.

Few would argue that style wasn't a key selling point of Cinderella's Night Songs debut, their purple hues and big hair a perfect coupling to ingratiate them to fans of the exploding arena rock scene. But for all of the album's style, it packed just as much substance - and I'm prepared to argue that it placed the band far ahead of the curve.

If Twilight were set in the late-'80s, Cinderella could, should and would be part of the soundtrack. They were unwittingly a predecessor to H.I.M. - a saturation of sound and color that bled from a gothic underbelly long before Type O Negative introduced us to "Black No. 1." Yeah, they looked glam and made "Shake Me" their mantra, but "Nobody's Fool" built cold, damp castle walls around the soul long before emo was fashionable.

For me, the real glass slipper dropped when I saw Cinderella open for Judas Priest in the summer of 1988 on the Ram It Down tour. They weren't hell bent for leather, but they were dark enough to fit the bill, winning over even the hardest metal heads at Connecticut's long-since demolished New Haven Coliseum.

Twenty-five years later, the shit we ate for breakfast still gives us cancer - and Cinderella were tight as ever at the House of Blues.

My only complaint? The 70-minute set was only 13 songs long. There wasn't a dull moment throughout, but I'd have loved to have heard more than three songs from Heartbreak Station, as well as anything from Still Climbing (if you're not familiar with it, I highly recommend digging into the vastly-underrated 1994 release, their fourth - and most recent - studio offering)... And where the hell was "Push Push"?

But that's nit-picking.

I was bristling at the back-to-back bump and grind of "Somebody Save Me" and "Night Songs," and "The More Things Change" offered the perfect bridge into "Coming Home" (Favorite. Cinderella. Song. Ever.) and "Second Wind," which strutted along to a blues breakdown and electric keys. And in the unexpected laugher of the night, a friend and self-professed "huge fan" turned to me 10 seconds into "Gypsy Road" and asked me what song it was - not because it didn't sound great, but because she couldn't remember...

They say you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone - here's hoping Cinderella are back before too long.

SETLIST
1. Once Around The Ride
2. Shake Me
3. Heartbreak Station
4. Somebody Save Me
5. Night Songs
6. The More Things Change
7. Coming Home
8. Second Wind
9. Don't Know What You Got (Till It's Gone)
10. Nobody's Fool
11. Gypsy Road
ENCORE
12. (Intro) Long Cold Winter
13. Shelter Me

VIDEO: Foo Fighters "Walk"

2011-06-02T19:33:00.000-07:00

Tags: Foo Fighters, Music, More Music Videos

He's Dave effin' Grohl - he can leave his car wherever he wants!

#FallingDown
#FooFighters

Jon Stewart, Donald Trump, Sarah Palin & pizza? This... This is some good stuff...

2011-06-02T18:55:00.000-07:00

'DAVE MUSTAINE: A Heavy Metal Memoir'(file under 'Hidden Treasures')

2011-06-01T15:24:00.000-07:00

I've been catching up on long-overdue reading lately, and took advantage of the Memorial Day weekend to read Megadeth mastermind Dave Mustaine's aptly titled autobiography Mustaine: A Heavy Metal Memoir. I loved the book, and mentioned on Twitter yesterday that it was the best rock bio I've ever read, and a must-read for anyone with even a passing interest in mainstream metal.

A friend of mine - a New York Times bestselling author in his own right - asked me what made it my favorite rock bio, and I told him my answer was too long for a text message. Here's my response...

Truth be told, rock bios aren't my favorite books to read, typically because I fear for the impact they may have on my relationship with an artist's art. Sound confusing? I can explain.

I love music because of the way it makes me feel, not because of the way the artists that perform it make me feel. When I was introduced to Megadeth, it wasn't Dave Mustaine that I developed a relationship with, it was his band's music. Maybe I felt a connection to a lyric. Maybe I was driven by the energy of the song. Maybe it was a combination of both, or maybe it was something altogether different. But it was the music that moved me, and it was my interpretation and response to that music that was (and remains) alive inside me.

Yes, I understand that by getting closer to the artist, you can get closer to their art - but after two decades of interviewing artists for a living, I have found that quite often the opposite proves true. The more I learn about an artist, the more distant I sometimes start to feel from their music - their music becomes more about their story, and less about my story with the music. And that is why I tend to not appreciate rock bios as much as other fans might...

Which brings us to this memoir.

My two favorite metal bands are Anthrax and Megadeth (consider them tied, I do), and my favorite metal personality is Dave Mustaine. Yes, he's a rock star, but I also see a lot of similarities between our personalities - from hearty cynicism and a dry sense of humor, to an outspoken personality and oft-misunderstood private nature.

I've interviewed Mustaine countless times, and being asked to appear in the Megadeth Behind the Music and on the band's Rude Awakening DVD are career highlights for me. After twenty years, I'd safely consider us friendly... friends, but not particularly close.

So it is with both thirst and trepidation that I picked up this book. I honor Mustaine's mystique as much as anyone's in metal, and while I'd love the opportunity to better understand him, the last thing I would ever want is for that understanding to sour one of my favorite bands, and favorite frontman.

But this book was remarkable. Mustaine's personality and spirit echo throughout, only enhancing what just may be the most fascinating story in heavy metal history. The underbelly of the book is Mustaine's place as an original member and principal songwriter of Metallica. Yes, this is only his side of the much-publicized rift between him and his former bandmates, but if you've seen Metallica's Some Kind Of Monster, you know that there aren't many, if any, discrepancies.

From a heavy metal perspective, that alone makes the book required reading. Even if taken with a grain of salt, you can't help but raise an eyebrow at the history Mega-Dave and Metallica shared.

From there, Mustaine's inner turmoil is the backbone of the book, and Megadeth is the spinal fluid that fills it - what I found most compelling about both is that Mustaine never points a finger at anyone without similarly pointing one at himself. The book doesn't mince words, and the book doesn't tread lightly. It hits hard, and takes as many punches as it lands.

But the best part isn't the grit. The best part is the way that the grit sands Mustaine's character throughout, shaping him into a different person by the book's end. This isn't the story of drug use and rehabilitation, it's the story of standing toe to toe with one's demons and knowing that even if you can't win every battle, life is a war worth fighting.

While I can't relate to Dave Mustaine's lifetime of drug use, I can relate to the spiritual core that he discovers more than 300 pages later, and that is the type of revelation that makes this book a triumph to read - and Megadeth's music twice as triumphant to listen to after you've turned the final page.

Why is Dave Mustaine: A Heavy Metal Memoir my favorite rock bio? Because it did what I wish every rock bio could do - it offered me a profound insight into music I love, made me feel a heightened kinship with the artist behind the music, and it made me appreciate one of my favorite bands even more.

TWITTER: Dave Mustaine
TWITTER: Megadeth
TWITTER: Paul Gargano

VIDEO: Jane's Addiction "End to the Lies"

2011-05-31T15:09:00.001-07:00

Jane's Addiction are one of my favorite bands - I love this new single, but I'll pass on the video. I always thought videos were supposed to heighten songs, not distract from them, and this seems like a cheap use of T&A that distracts from what could have been an otherwise cool use of stop-animation (granted, the internet is a breeding ground for cheap T&A, and maybe that's the point)... Like I said, love the song - but as far as videos go, I'll take "Been Caught Stealing" any day.

Coachella 2012 expands to two weekends...What does this mean for the festival?

2011-05-31T14:25:00.001-07:00

I discovered electronic music at Coachella.

I don't mean that's where I heard Prodigy for the first time - that happened a decade before my first Coachella. What I mean is, it was in the middle of a tent in Indio, twenty miles east of Palm Springs, CA, where I discovered that live music created on computers can be more engaging than live music created on instruments.

That doesn't mean it always is, it just means that it can be - and, like I said, I credit that to Coachella. Despite the fact that two of the single greatest shows I've ever seen were headliners on the festival's mainstage, the weekend has always been about the Sahara Tent for me - I'd often go there alone and listen to DJs for hours on end (few of my friends can even tolerate electronic music, let alone subject themselves to the alternative reality that is the farthest-reaching expanse of the Empire Polo Fields).

It was musical bliss for me, and Coachella offered the only opportunity all year for me to do it - my friends could watch whatever they wanted, I could watch whatever I wanted, and we could reconvene when the timing was right. That was the beautiful thing about Coachella - we could just meet under the light...

But we haven't gone to Coachella the past two years. I've blamed my lack of interest on the headliners, but truly it's because of the festival's evolution. They've transformed from an indie festival with a heavy emphasis on electronic music, to a mainstream festival trying to be everything for everybody.

Make no mistake, the marquee electronic talent is still there, but the crowds have evolved, and with that evolution an inability to truly enjoy everything that Coachella has to offer has emerged.

There has been a mainstream hip-hop headliner two years in a row. I live in Los Angeles, and I know the demographic that appeals to - it is the demographic that not only assures that the festival can essentially sellout of $300 weekend passes before a lineup is even announced, but also sell out of $600 VIP passes. It's the same principal that drives revenue at sporting events - give the common man the "afforable" option, but double, triple, quadruple (and then some) your money from the people that aren't afraid to spend it..

I'm not a scenester that lives for weekends of bottle service. Even if I could afford to pay $750 for a bottle of Grey Goose, I wouldn't on principal. But replacing the likes of Tool, Nine Inch Nails, Rage Against The Machine, Roger Waters and Paul McCartney with Kanye West and Jay-Z, means that you're not only asking me to pay $300 for a weekend pass (no more individual day tickets), you're also mandating that I rub elbows with a scene I am not a part of.

Does this sound too high school of me? If so, guilty as charged. Music isn't a spectator sport, and whether we can all admit to it or not, the fan experience deteriorates when it is watered down by rubber-necking.

Two years ago, the first year my friends and I didn't go, the universal sentiment was that over-crowding decimated the fan experience, and the festival suffered miserably for it. This year, Coachella went to great ends to mend those memories - to a large extent, it seems they succeeded. And next year, it seems they are going even further.

It was announced today that Coachella would be TWO weekends in 2012:

"We will attempt to produce two identical festival weekends. That means same lineup, same art, same place, different people," they said in an announcement.

This means that the festival expects to sell 150,000 weekend passes, as opposed to 75,000.

Electronic music is scaling unprecedented heights in America right now, and based on the Rave aspect alone Coachella should be able to sell-out two weekends - I imagine a decent number of fans will even do both, book-ending a week's vacation with six nights of ecstacy. The real question is, what will this mean for the lineup?

Given that America is finally being exposed to the universal appeal of electronic music - and knowing that the rave scene is enough to carry a good portion of ticket sales - might we see a return to the more indie-minded roots of the festival's past? Or could this two-weekend format result in even more mainstreamed headliners?

What do you think today's announcement means for Coachella?

ALBUM REVIEW: Foster The People 'Torches'

2011-05-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to like Foster The People.

In fact, the first time I heard "Pumped Up Kicks" I was a little bit insulted. I thought I was listening to a poor man's MGMT - where was the depth? The soul? The texture? All that said, the song's loopy swagger was infectious and, before long, I wasn't changing the station when it came on in the car. But I still knew I'd hate the band. How could I not? It was paint-by-numbers Coachella with minimal substance and even less style. Chumbawamba for hipsters.

So when Torches arrived in my mailbox with its Where The Wild Things Are album cover and completely uninspired CD booklet (black lyrics on white paper - and people wonder why nobody buys CDs anymore), I was all geared up for a groaner...

Then the electro-fuzz opening of "Helena Beat" kicked the album off, swashing into falsetto vocals talking about life taking you by the hair, pulling you down, and leaving you dead again... Huh? I can relate to that - who can't? I keep listening...

You know those days, when you want to just choose
To not get out of bed, you're lost in your head again
You play the game but you kind of cut
'Cause you're coming down hard and your joints are all stuck

(Just like Chumbawamba, Foster The People get knocked down and they get up again...)

By now my psyche is not only calloused to "Pumped Up Kicks," I actually kind of like the song. It hearkens back to John Mayer's "No Such Thing" - musically light and fruity on the outside, but lyrically meaty in the middle. Mayer's pop ditty had him running through the halls of his high school, screaming at the top of his lungs because he just found out that the real world is a lie he's got to rise above. Foster's tale is one where all the kids with the pumped up kicks better run, faster than the bullet from our cowboy's gun.

That depth I was looking for? Found it - and there's texture, too. "Call It What You Want" and "Don't Stop (Color On The Walls)" bump and bounce like lo-fi Black Eyed Peas (that's a good thing), and "Waste" expands on the colors in the Cut Copy palette. "Houdini" oozes soul, seeping into the 'call me Al' spirit of "Life On The Nickel" and beyond the vibrant, post-modern quirkiness of "Miss You." Foster The People flirt with a disco dynamic on "I Would Do Anything For You," then marry Animal Collective's psychedelic romp with solid gold pop on "Warrant."

And less than 40 minutes after it starts, the voyage is over - the saving grace is, we only have to hit Play to take the journey all over again... and again, and again, and again. Torches is small-town charm amidst big city bustle. It's not reinventing the wheel, it's just greasing it up really well and making it spin a lot smoother. It spins like a kaleidoscope. Vibrant. Inspired. Refreshing.

Torches offers just what the name suggests - an album of bright lights and buoyant beats to guide us through the dark of day.

Like I said, I knew from the moment I heard "Pumped Up Kicks" that I'd love Foster The People!

If Torches isn't my album of the year, I can't wait to hear what is...

TODAY ONLY: Lady Gaga 'Born This Way' album on sale for .99 on Amazon!

2011-05-23T10:52:00.000-07:00

When Lady Gaga says she was Born This Way, does she mean she was born with a motorcycle for a body? I'm still undecided about that album cover, but I can't wait to rev up the new album - which was released today and is sale priced at just .99 on Amazon as a digital download. [Click here to buy.]

That's right - the entire new Lady Gaga for less than a buck!

Earlier this year, the album's title track was declared the fastest selling single of all time by iTunes - with pricing like this, the album might make set a few sales marks of it's own.

In addition, everyone who buy's Gaga's disc (or any MP3 purchase) gets a free upgrade to 20 GB of free storage space on the Amazon Cloud Drive.

Don't let Tommy Lee's penis scare you...Take a trip to 'Tommyland'

2011-05-21T12:17:00.000-07:00

I honestly had no intention of reading Tommy Lee's book when it came out several years ago - not because I didn't care, but because when I heard it was co-written by his penis, well, yeah, then my interest admittedly faded.

I have a thing for Tommy Lee - not in a man-crush sort of way (not that there's anything wrong with that), but in a way where his passion for music resonates so much that it makes me feel a connection to him like I have with some of my best friends. I've got friends who I can talk about music with for hours on end - we don't even pause to refill our glasses, we just talk louder above the clinking ice and clanking bottles. Tommy seems like one of those guys.

The thing I like most is that Tommy isn't a stereotypical meat-head rocker who likes nothing that doesn't have screaming guitars and vocals that flirt with the stratosphere. No, he just loves music - and all kinds of it. Like me, he's drawn to anything that moves him, from Cheap Trick to Massive Attack to Daft Punk and beyond.

Music, to me, is about feeling a primal connection. It's about sparking that thing inside you that makes you feel like nothing else on the planet can make you feel in a given moment. It's spiritual, and it touches your soul.

And that's almost how I felt reading Tommyland, T-Lee's autobiography. I'm not getting Biblical or anything, I just really appreciate the man's zest for life.

I got a library card a few weeks ago, and Tommyland was the first book I saw when I walked over to the racks. It called out to me, and I grabbed it. Corny? Maybe. But it happens. Like I said, I never felt compelled to read a book narrated by a penis. And to be fair, since its release in 2004, not a single person has told me that this was a book I needed to read.

Which is why I'm telling you now - if you know how to read (which I think you've got covered if we made it this far) and have even a fleeting interest in the concepts of celebrity and pop culture, I highly recommend Tommyland.

Yes, I said highly.

To be clear, his penis only makes random commentary throughout (thankfully, less and less the further and better the book gets). And given that Motley Crue released their own band autobiography, The Dirt, in 2002, there's not even a lot of talk about Motley Crue.

Instead, it's an unflinching look inside the head of what makes one of music's biggest icons tick. The chapter about his meeting Pamela Anderson is literally laugh-out-loud funny, the two recounting their very different recollections of a weekend in Mexico that led to marriage. His discussions of his children are heartwarming, there is heartache in his divorce from Pamela, and we share heartbreak in the chapter that details the death of his son's 4-year-old friend in his Malibu swimming pool.

No, it's not Nobel Prize material, but Tommy Lee would never claim to be a budding laureate. It is raw emotion, and an honest and unwavering look at a side of celebrity that most people don't take the time to acknowledge - the human side. You sit right alongside Tommy Lee in his jail cell, and rant right alongside him at paparazzi.

And, in defense of his penis, as heavy as things do get (I'm talking about the subject matter, not... well, I'm sure you've heard the stories...), you can't blame the guy for trying to lighten the mood. I read a lot, and I'm partial to biographies and autobiographies - Tommyland is one of the more engaging bios I've read.

The book has its flaws, but don't we all? If you offend easily, it gets pretty raunchy, but in the end it's the passion and honesty of the writing that prevails.

I returned my copy to the library today, but I assure you I'll be buying a copy of my own. It's one of those books I want to be able to hand to someone, with the assurance that they'll come out with a whole new perspective on a person they thought they knew everything about.

It may have taken me 6 1/2 years to finally visit Tommyland, but it's a trip I'm glad I finally took.

RANDY "MACHO MAN" SAVAGE(November 15, 1952 - May 20, 2011)

2011-05-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

Growing up, I can't remember not loving professional wrestling. It wasn't on every night of the week, there weren't monthly pay per views that cost more to watch than you'd make working two days at a part-time job, and it still embraced subtleties and nuances, rather than bombastic pomp and over-the-top circumstances.

Randy "Macho Man" Savage was instrumental in changing that.

My parents probably don't know this, but it was my grandmother who really got me into professional wrestling. She was Polish (the only of my four grandparents that wasn't Italian), and she loved Ivan "The Polish Hammer" Putski. As legend has it, she broke the arm off a chair watching him wrestle one time - because that's what wrestling meant in the '70s.

If you were Italian, Bruno Sammartino was to wrestling what Joe Dimaggio was to baseball. Pedro Morales was there for Latinos, and Bob Backlund was our squeaky clean, red-white-and-blue champion who would never cheat to win, and would never fight dirty until his opponents forced his hand. [Unrelated aside: I swam competitively against his daughter, with him sitting in the stands!] The Grand Wizard, Freddie Blassie and Captain Lou Albano were diabolical managers who represented everything bad in the world, while Arnold Skaaland was their baby-faced counterpart, crusading against their conniving, back-handed ways with a work ethic that epitomized the prevailing spirit of blue collar America.

The bad guys back then were truly bad guys, and you never cheered for them. It wasn't allowed. But today, "Magnificent" Don Muraco would be the people's hero with his smug arrogance and cocky swagger, and fans would give Blackjack Mulligan an ovation to see his leather claw turn an opponent's head into a bloody cheese grater. I remember crying when Superstar Billy Graham tore Bob Backlund's championship belt in half, and I can still remember the horror, shock and seething hatred I felt when Captain Lou Albano turned on his greatest heel, pulverizing Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka with his own South Pacific headband before Ray "The Crippler" Stevens piledrived him twice into the bloodied concrete floor.

At the time, wrestling was restricted to black and white televisions with bunny ear antennas. My parents didn't want me staying up until midnight to watch, but I watched anyway. Sometimes the reception was so bad all I could do was listen. Sometimes I had to watch with the volume off so my parents couldn't hear. But I always had to watch. I used to love when my grandmother would babysit because I could stay up late and watch with her in the living room.

That was before Randy Savage.

In my mind, he and Hulk Hogan represented the end of an era and the dawn of another. The Hulkster and Macho Man brought wrestling out of black and white and into color - off of local affiliate channel 9's overnight and onto NBC prime time. It was the vision of Vince McMahon Jr, carried out on the backs and charisma of his wrestlers.

And Macho Man was the manifestation of charisma. He was Gorgeous George, Superstar Billy Graham and an '80s rock star, all rolled into one. And when he anointed Miss Elizabeth his manager, the WWF's first Diva was born. That's what I love most about the clip above - it is everything Randy "Macho Man" Savage helped wrestling become.

It is not a barrage of coconuts to the head, it is three minutes of theater building to the Honky Tonk Man's guitar pop. Professional wrestling went from carnival attraction to three ring circus. From gray and grainy to neon technicolor. From Cold War simplicity to turn-of-the-millennium complexity. From sport to entertainment.

In my lifetime, professional wrestling has been a mirror of American culture - and today, with the passing of Randy "Macho Man" Savage, that mirror sustained a horrible crack.

Rest in peace, Randy...

* * * * * CHRIS JERICHO & JAMES DURBIN * * * * * It's time to metal up and Rock the Vote on 'Dancing with the Stars' & 'American Idol'

2011-04-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

When American Idol finalist James Durbin was joined onstage by Zakk Wylde during his performance of Sammy Hagar's "Heavy Metal" last week, it represented more than just unprecedented mainstream exposure for Zakk Wylde - it represented an opportunity for the hard rock and metal community to make a statement that it is no longer the bastard son of the music industry.

Instead, too many "fans" used the opportunity to engage in online grandstanding and short-sided rhetoric.

The two biggest shows on television are Dancing with the Stars and American Idol - and for the first time ever, both are currently boasting competitors that are not only proud of their metal roots, they also wear them on their sleeves.

Chris Jericho is billed as a "wrestling superstar" by Dancing with the Stars, but fans also know him as frontman of Fozzy - a band that he started with Stuck Mojo guitarist Rich Ward a decade ago, and will be performing alongside the Big 4 on overseas festivals this summer.

Think about that for a minute: the singer of a band sharing stages with Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax, is currently holding his own on a dance floor alongside Kirstie Alley, the Karate Kid, super-model Petra Nemcova, Super Bowl MVP Hines Ward, a Disney superstar, hip-hop/R&B star Romeo, and a reality TV star and Playboy model who dated Hugh Hefner.

What do all these people have in common? Unwavering fan support. They've all made it this far because they know that they have a fan base that they can count on to vote - except for Chris Jericho.

While Jericho has many fans who vote, he has just as many who don't vote because "dancing isn't metal."

We need to change that.

You don't need to watch Dancing with the Stars to support Chris Jericho, all you need to do is cast your votes while the show is airing. So while you're watching wrestling, baseball, or whatever else you may be doing between 8-10pm on Monday nights, log onto ABC.com (where it will take you no more than 30 seconds to vote the maximum-allowed nine times each week) and call (800) 868-3409 ten times (the max phone votes allowed per week, per phone line)...

Contrary to what some may say, Dancing with the Stars isn't fixed - in fact, the single-largest factor influencing who stays and goes is audience votes. It's a numbers game, and the numbers should be in Chris Jericho's favor. While Kendra Wilkinson may have five-times his Twitter followers, she doesn't have the hard rock and heavy metal communities and WWE Universe behind her - like Chris SHOULD.

This is OUR scene, and how great would it be to show the mainstream, pop-culture world that when we band together, we have the numbers to defy their trends and plastic icons?

By voting for Chris Jericho on Dancing with the Stars and James Durbin on American Idol we are voting for an end to the ongoing barrage of crap that litters our airwaves.

By voting for the people that stand for the same things as we do, we are not being less metal, we are banding together to make hard rock and heavy metal stronger.

Zakk Wylde became a trending topic on Twitter when he joined James Durbin onstage during Idol - but what did that get him?

Hear me out here...

Not only did James Durbin defy American Idol mentor and Interscope Records head Jimmy Iovine - one of the most powerful men in the music industry - when he chose "Heavy Metal" as his performance for the week, but he invited Zakk Wylde to perform with him... The best message that Zakk's fans could have sent would have been to throw their unprecedented voting power behind James, showing Idol just how powerful Zakk Wylde, his fans, and heavy metal can be.

If fans are subjected to listening to judge Randy Jackson fumble through a clueless introduction of Zakk Wylde, the least we can do is return the favor by supporting James and Zakk the only way that matters on Idol - with votes.

Making Zakk Wylde a trending topic on Twitter matters to nobody five minutes later. But if James Durbin gets 500,000 more votes than his previous week when Zakk Wylde performs alongside him, THAT makes Zakk Wylde look huge to the powers that be.

The great thing about social media is that WE shape it, WE make it what it is, and WE define its results - so WE need to make it count.

This is OUR scene, and we need to rally behind it. We need to use the tools at our disposal to crash through the disposable fads we are being force fed, and stand behind what DOES mean something to us - hard rock and heavy metal.

Because if we don't, who is going to? For every person that won't vote for James Durbin because he's heavy metal, we need five metal-heads that don't watch American Idol to vote to show that strength comes in numbers, and our numbers are there...

Just like the heavy metal community needs to stand behind Chris Jericho on Dancing with the Stars - where, last week, he performed to a song recorded by both Savatage and Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Who else has the balls to do that on prime-time television?

THAT is metal... And even better, is that both Jericho and Durbin are turning heads with impressive performances throughout the process.

If you think two metal fans lose credibility by being in the biggest spotlight American culture has to offer, you're just as short-sighted as the people that turn their noses at the music that what we love and they don't understand.

Think about it - what could be a greater statement from OUR SCENE, than having Chris Jericho win Dancing with the Stars and James Durbin win American Idol?

Nothing - so let's rock the vote and make it happen!

TWITTER: Chris Jericho
TWITTER: Fozzy
TWITTER: James Durbin
TWITTER: Paul Gargano

TRAILER: Foo Fighters "Back and Forth"

2011-04-06T11:33:00.000-07:00

I'll never forget the first time I met Dave Grohl - which is ironic, considering he was probably wishing he could forgot my banter while I was still mid-sentence.

That's the difference 15 years makes, because I've been in his presence numerous times since, but my desire not to be an intrusion outweighs my interest in telling him how much I appreciate everything he's done in the wake of Nirvana.

What does that have to do with the trailer for the new Foo Fighters movie "Back and Forth"? Nothing, really - the trailer (posted above), coupled with the anniversary of Kurt Cobain's suicide, just got me thinking about how I was never a big Nirvana fan, and always a big Foo Fighters fan.

I never resented Dave Grohl for starting Foo Fighters, I actually appreciated him more for it - and told him that backstage at Milwaukee's Riverside Theater on March 28, 1996. Grohl responded with a few amicable words, and I proceeded to talk at greater length with guitarist Pat Smear. Seeing as I am a bigger fan of the Germs than I was of Nirvana, it's no wonder that conversation went better.

Nirvana didn't speak to me like it spoke to so many others - I grew up on a steady diet of hard rock and metal, and my favorite music has always been more about visceral response than somber introspection. So when Grohl says, "honestly, had I taken this whole career thing seriously, I would have named it something else, because this is the worst fucking band name in the world..." at the end of the trailer, I'm just glad he doesn't take things too seriously.

I want musical thrills, not pills, and Foo Fighters always deliver the goods - I can't wait to see this movie...

CHRIS JERICHO "UNDISPUTED" Television & Media Archive

2011-02-18T11:21:00.001-08:00

(click show title for link to video/article)

Lopez Tonight / WTBS (Feb 24, 2011)
What barbershop quarter wouldn't want Chris Jericho?

Attack of the Show / G4 television network (Feb 22, 2011)
An amusing interview with host Kevin Periera...

PIX Morning News / KPIX New York (Feb 17, 2011)
Chris addresses the Velvet Revolver rumors (and hermaphrodite fans)

The Opie & Anthony Show / SiriusXM Satellite Radio (Feb 16, 2011)
A 40-minute audio segment focusing on wrestling and Fozzy

Red Eye / FOX News (Feb 15, 2011)
What Chris did for $25, and what celebrity annoyed him most

AZcentral.com (Feb 15, 2011)
Chris talks about Arizona, and being an author

The Wendy Williams Show / syndicated (Feb 15, 2011)
Hamming it up with Wendy Williams (not Wendy O Williams)

FOX & Friends / FOX News (Feb 14, 2011)
New York City's subway slasher, Lady Gaga's pod, and Valentine's Day

LINKS
TWITTER: Chris Jericho
TWITTER: Fozzy

Grammy Award Muse-ings: East Coast bias, Mumford & Sons shine, Cee Lo Green glows, Arcade Fire ignite, Ma-GaGa-donna & more

2011-02-14T14:29:00.002-08:00

First of all, the pink elephant in the room - the music industry is anchored in Los Angeles. The Grammy Awards are held in Los Angeles. The notable parties are all in Los Angeles.

Why aren't the Grammy Awards televised live in Los Angeles?

The obvious answer I come up with is that they're hoping most of the industry won't watch them, that way they can't question why the awards show was opened with a stale tribute to a living legend that would have been better-suited for later in the telecast.

No disrespect to Aretha Franklin, but Cee Lo Green should have opened the show.

Or Justin Bieber, but God-forbid they do that and risk all the kids going to bed, then mom and dad turning on anything more entertaining. (For the record, there was nothing else on. My father-in-law called at 11pm EST and said he was watching - not because he particularly cared, but because he was out of options.)

That Cee Lo Green performance was everything that an opening act should be - dynamic, fun, original and relevant. Muppets! How awesome was that? You know what was just as awesome? The song - just further proving the argument I waged on my Facebook page a few weeks ago, that a great song becomes little more than a novelty when it's hanging its marketing shingle on an f-bomb.

The song is already great, and didn't miss a beat being delivered as "Forget You" - calling it "Fuck You" is nothing more than a cheap and completely unnecessary gimmick that panders to the lowest common denominator.

Speaking of turn-offs, I've loved Lady Gaga from day one - so early on, that people laughed at me when I told them she should be huge. That said, she's only one album in and I already fear her career trajectory could be where Marilyn Manson was after Mechanical Animals. That's how accelerated culture is today, and I fear she's already losing sight of the smaller picture as she jumps the Jaws tank in an effort to express herself.

You're only as good as your current hit, and the groundwork is already being laid for her next one, with the Hollywood Reporter reporting today that Gaga's producer RedOne boasts that the next single "is going to shock" - you mean, as opposed to suck?

"Born This Way" doesn't suck, but it's far from great - and a great way to have buried the song's Madonna comparisons would have been to be joined by the material girl onstage last night. Which obviously didn't happen. In a world where there is no such thing as accidental press, the fact that they're already setting up song No. 2 speaks volumes...

The big winner last night was Mumford & Sons (pictured above). They were in a league all their own, playing with an honesty and spirit that was effervescent. They're going to steal the show at Coachella this year - a 60,000 person sing-along will provide the type of magic that sells the festival out in three days despite a lackluster lineup.

Muse were my other favorite from the night - they managed to translate a big rock show (with obvious nods to Pink Floyd and Queensryche) onto the small screen, making it not only believable, but (here's that word again) relevant.

I wish Bob Dylan was remotely relevant. He came across as old as he sounded. Barbra Streisand sounded great, but how many people cared? Part of the problem NARAS are now facing is that they are trying to spread themselves too thin. Aretha tribute. Bieber performance. Yes, it's an overview of where we are, but it really wasn't tied together well at all. A shred of cohesion could do wonders.

John Mayer, Norah Jones and Keith Urban performing Dolly Parton was great - but where was Dolly Parton? I feel like that fell as flat as John Mayer wasting an opportunity to ad lib and stating he'd stick to the teleprompter...

What makes Mayer such a star - aside from his musical talent - is the fact that he is smart enough to manipulate pop culture to fit his personality. Problem is, he's been snakebit since calling Jessica Simpson sexual napalm, and now he comes across as afraid to open his mouth.

Nobody else worries about opening their mouth, why the double standard?

I had to hide from Twitter and Facebook all day yesterday to avoid the barrage of people announcing winners and spoiling the surprise before we on the West Coast had a chance to see the action, at least make it worth my while to watch!

Arcade Fire would have been a nice surprise - if it was a surprise. As for their show, their punk bravado reminds me a lot of Sonic Youth. And the strobe lights ever-present through their performances reminded me of Motley Crue when they reunited on television what seems like eons ago. We listen with our eyes as much as our ears - don't underestimate how important those strobes were...

Did Arcade Fire really deliver the best album of the past year? Does it really matter? The Grammy Awards got what they wanted - indie cred... Despite the disarray that ensued with their botched Arcade Fire/Barbara Streisand/Kris Kristofferson ending.

Ouch.

One final note, to the publicity company that sent out press releases immediately after the live broadcast aired announcing all the winners - really? You get paid in the ballpark of $5,000/month to work your A-list clients, but you can't stay up until the West Coast feed ends to send out a one-line release announcing that said band won a Grammy, and it was their first?

You couldn't even give us a quote from the band? Nothing but a buzzkill, that's all that press release was... NARAS, meanwhile, doesn't even know how to create a buzz - they kept announcing that people won earlier in the night, but they never went so far as to even scroll the winners that weren't televised.

When NARAS doesn't even think their own awards are important enough to announce, how seriously are we supposed to take them?

About as seriously as Cee Lo Green, I guess.

SLASH AND BURN @ SUPER BOWL XLVBlack Eyed Peas pack serious halftime heat

2011-02-07T11:13:00.000-08:00

The only thing I found annoying about the Black Eyed Peas halftime performance during yesterday's Super Bowl, was the outpouring of hyperbole and criticism that followed.

We live in a culture of hatred and entitlement, and I'm finding it harder and harder to disguise my disgust. It used to be you needed a modicum of training, etiquette and professionalism to be a critic. Now all you need is an internet connection.

Spelling, grammar and any hint of education are optional, and typically frowned upon.

Just because you and all of your like-minded friends may agree that you hate the Black Eyed Peas, does not mean that the Black Eyed Peas suck. It just means that you don't like the Black Eyed Peas. I follow a disproportional number of rock fans on Twitter, and I could have predicted their reaction before the halftime show even started. But that was tame compared to the reaction at the party I was at, where I was standing between members of the Guns N Roses camp.

The tough crowd got even tougher when the "Sweet Child O' Mine" cover started and Fergie delivered a little Axl Rose slither as she cozied up alongside Slash, GnR's iconic ex-guitarist.

I'm an Axl Rose loyalist to the core - but, admittedly, even that collaboration didn't bother me that much. The Super Bowl halftime show is arguably the biggest stage there is in music - can you blame the Black Eyed Peas for pulling out all the stops?

Unfortunately, they didn't sound great. But it's the halftime SHOW, not the halftime CONCERT. The spectacle was huge, and it delivered. No, maybe the performers didn't deliver as well as they - and others - may have liked, but if you are watching the Super Bowl with the sole intention of critiquing ads and the halftime show, you're part of today's problem, not part of the solution.

The Super Bowl is a worldwide institution and, in a lot of ways, its prevailing hooplah has come to represent everything that's wrong with America as we spiral through the 21st century as a culture of lemmings that care more about being heard, than about right, fair or even articulate.

I never got the guy's name, but I had a great conversation in the third quarter about how much money was spent on advertising, and where all that advertising money comes from... Us.

We're in a recession, but we're still fueling an economy that continues to cater to excess at a time when we should be dialing our habits down. I don't care how much money Budweiser pays to license a classic Elton John song, their product still tastes more like stale piss to me than it does beer.

Which brings me back to the Black Eyed Peas...

They are a pop music phenomenon, not a live music staple. Their songs are built around club beats and designed for dance floors, not live performances. And if you want to compare them musically to any other act that's performed halftime in recent memory, you're just advertising your own tunnel vision.

Black Eyed Peas are a production team, not a rock band. And they're damn good at what they do. In fact, they are amongst the best. That show last night was visually stunning, even if the vocals fell a little flat. But you know what? At least they were singing (or trying, as the case may be) - I'd rather relish the effort amidst the spectacle, than watch a lip-sync laughathon.

It didn't take a sound engineer to know there were sound problems. All their mics cut out at one point or another, and that's not the band's fault. Who knows what they were actually hearing on stage? Am I making excuses? Yes, I am - but I tuned in to watch the Super Bowl, not play armchair quarterback and pass judgment on the bells and whistles that surrounded the game.

Last night's game was a phenomenal steak dinner. The Black Eyes Peas performance was akin to finding some wilted lettuce in a salad that is highlighted by some superb blue cheese dressing.

If you're tuning into the Super Bowl to get your music fix, I feel sorry for you - there's so much more out there, you just need to open your ears and listen. And if you're one of those people screaming that the Black Eyed Peas suck and are a musical travesty, maybe it's time to look beyond your own short-sightedness.

They don't suck,they're just not your thing. To the masses that are not metal fans, Slipknot suck so hard they should change their name to Hoover. That doesn't make me appreciate them any less. Green Day is the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard to me - that doesn't mean that they suck, it just means that they're not my thing.

To each their own... But we live in America, where people are incapable of compromise. It's all or nothing, and our way or the highway.

If you're liberal, all conservatives are evil. Period.

And if you're a rock fan watching the Black Eyed Peas during the Super Bowl, you've judged them before you even stop to consider the very nature of what they do, or how they do it. Yes, their performance wasn't perfect, but they were playing the Super Bowl, not the Grammy Awards.

It was a football game, and they provided a halftime spectacle - and an excellent one at that. To say that Fergie can't sing is just flat-out wrong - she can sing, even if she wasn't in top form Sunday night.

If you would care to discuss how your definition of music is different than a Black Eyed Peas fan's definition of music, that's another story altogether - but, again, we are talking about opinions, not facts.

I just think back to how I felt growing up, being a fan of heavy metal and having people talk down to me because that wasn't what they consider "real" music.

I remember how it felt when people would tell me that Metallica sucked, when in fact they were just scared and intimidated of the band and what they stood for. They said they aren't music, they're noise. Those judgmental people helped shape me into the person I am today - and those memories are what make me want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.

As Dan Akroyd said in the cinematic opus Spies Like Us - we mock what we don't understand.

As for the Super Bowl? Don't hate the playas just cuz you don't like the game.

And as for me? I like the Black Eyed Peas, and all the boom boom pow they deliver.

Has 'Rock of Love' found it's new star? This "Talk Dirty To Me" is pure poison...

2011-01-27T17:50:00.001-08:00

Nothin' but a good time!!!

Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth & Anthrax...Big 4 announce single North American date

2011-01-25T10:05:00.000-08:00

What do heavy metal and the movie Pretty Woman have in common?

The Empire Polo Fields, about 120 miles east of Los Angeles in Indio, CA, will be home to key moments in both.

It was announced this morning that the much-heralded live reunion of metal's Big 4 - Metallica, Slayer, Megedeth and Anthrax - will follow last summer's seven-date stretch of European festivals with a single North American concert event to be held April 23, 2011, at the site of Coachella's annual three-day weekend.

Last year's European dates were commemorated with the November 2 release of The Big 4: Live from Sofia, Bulgaria, a DVD package that, in the ten weeks since its release, has been certified double-platinum in nearly every country where it is available.

It will be a busy month of April at the Empire Polo Fields, which will be hosting the 12th annual Coachella festival the weekend before the Big 4 invade, and the fifth annual Stagecoach country music festival the weekend after. For metal fans that also appreciate a good romantic comedy, the polo fields were also featured in the Julia Roberts blockbuster Pretty Woman - yes, it was there that Jason Alexander's character found out Roberts was a hooker!

From glow sticks to mosh pits to cow chips - promoters Goldenvoice know a thing or two about diversity.

Tickets for the all-day event - which will feature full-length sets from Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax - go on-sale Friday, January 28 at 10:00 AM (PT) through Ticketmaster.com, and by phone at 1-800-745-3000. Ticket prices are $99.00 for general admission and $199.00 for VIP.

Round-trip shuttle service will be available from Southern California locations including Carson, downtown Los Angeles, Pasadena, Ontario, Riverside, Anaheim, Irvine and San Diego, with prices ranging from $40.00-$65.00.

Complete details can be found at the Big 4 Festival website.

Arin Ilejay to drum for Avenged Sevenfold

2011-01-20T12:22:00.000-08:00

Avenged Sevenfold have named Arin Ilejay the band's latest drummer. Ilejay, formerly of the Southern California Christian rock band Confide, will make his debut Saturday night in Lowell, MA, where the band kick off their month-long Nightmare After Christmas tour [click here for dates].

Avenged Sevenfold's founding drummer, James "The Rev" Sullivan, died December 28, 2009, from an accidental overdose of prescription drugs and alcohol. The band recruited Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy to record drums on their latest release, Nightmare, and tour throughout 2010, and announced in December that he would not remain with the band entering 2011.

"For the past few months, we've been blessed with Mike Portnoy's talent and humanity. When Mike agreed to tour with us, it was only through the end of 2010. We always knew we'd need to find another solution for 2011 and beyond. And it's time for us to take that next step," the band said in a December 17 statement on their website.

"We know we are not ready to add another permanent member of Avenged Sevenfold. We don't know if we will ever be. But if we do, it will only be with someone who is not only a brilliant drummer, but also someone we've gotten to know well on the road and off, and who you the fans have had a chance to get to know, and hopefully accept," they continued.

"He will not be a member of a7x. He will be someone you and we are getting to know. Perhaps this drummer will be a fit. Perhaps not. One thing is for sure. Over time we will find someone who helps us continue our quest to make the music we love for the fans we love."

Enter Ilejay.

"Our long time studio drum tech, Mike Fasano, recommended Arin Ilejay," the band said in today's announcement. "We've rehearsed with Arin and have been impressed with his technical skills, attitude and work ethic. We're very excited to tour with Arin and hope all of you will give him the warm welcome to the family we have."

The Nightmare After Christmas tour - featuring special guests Stone Sour and Hollywood Undead - launches Saturday night, in Lowell, MA.

Kings of Leon, Arcade Fire, Kanye West and The Strokes to headline 2011 Coachella Festival

2011-01-18T22:18:00.001-08:00

Kings of Leon, Arcade Fire, Kanye West and the Strokes will headline the 12th annual Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, to be held April 15-17 at the Empire Polo Field, in Indio, CA.

While the lineup is light on surprises - the biggest may be the absence of long-rumored headliners Daft Punk - the roster reads like a who's who of the modern indie rock scene.

Highlights include Duran Duran, Animal Collective, the Black Keys, Big Audio Dynamite, Cee Lo Green, Cage the Elephant, Killers frontman Brandon Flowers, Empire of the Sun, Mumford & Sons, Scissor Sisters, Gogol Bordello, and former Fugees frontwoman Lauren Hill.

For fans of the festival's Sahara Tent, DJs and electronic acts include the Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, Paul van Dyk, Sasha, Chromeo, Bloody Beetroots Death Crew 77 and Cut Copy.

The complete Coachella 2011 lineup (as of January 18, 2011):

!!!, 12th Planet, Afrojack, Alf Alpha, Andy C, Angus and Julia Stone, Animal Collective, Arcade Fire, Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti, A-Trak, Axwell, Beardyman, Best Coast, Big Audio Dynamite, Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears, Bloody Beetroots Death Crew 77, Bomba Estereo, Boys Noize, Brandon Flowers, Brandt Brauer Frick, Breakage, Bright Eyes, Broken Social Scene, Cage the Elephant, Caifanes, Caspa, Cee Lo Green, Chromeo, Chuckie, City and Colour, Clare Maguire, Cold Cave, Cold War Kids, Crystal Castles, CSS, Cults, Cut Copy, Daedelus, Death From Above 1979, Delorean, Delta Sprirt, DJ Hype, DJ Kentaro, DJ Marky, DJ Zinc, Duck Sauce, Duran Duran, EE, Elbow, Electric Touch, Eliza Doolittle, Ellie Goulding, Emicida, Empire of the Sun, Erick Morillo, Erykah Badu, Excision, Fat Freddy's Drop, Fedde Le Grand, Fistful of Mercy, Flogging Molly, Foals, Foster the People, Francis and the Lights, Freelance Whales, fun., G.Q., Gayngs, Glasser, Gogol Bordello, Good Old War, Gord Downie, Goth Trad, Green Velvet, Gypsy and the Cat, HEALTH, Here We Go Magic, High Contrast, Hurts, Interpol, Jack Beats, Jack's Mannequin, Jakes, Jenny and Johnny, Jimmy Eat World, Joachim Garraud, Joy Orbison, Kanye West, Kele, Kings of Leon, Klaxons, Kode9, Kyle Hall, Laidback Luke, Leftfield, Lightning Bolt, Lil' B, Lorn, Los Bunkers, Magnetic Man, Mariachi El Bronx, Marina and the Diamonds, Mary Anne Hobbs, MEN, Menomena, Monarchy, Mount Kimbie, Moving Units, Ms. Lauryn Hill, Mumford & Sons, Nas & Damian Marley, Neon Trees, New Pants, Nosaj Thing, OFF!, OFWGKTA, Omar Rodriguez Lopez, One Day as a Lion, Ozomatli, Paul van Dyk, Phantogram, Phosphorescent, PJ Harvey, Plan B, Ramadanman, Raphael Saadiq, Ras G, Ratatat, Riva Starr, Robyn, Roska, Rye Rye, Sander Kleinenberg, Sasha, SBTRKT, Scala & Kolacny Bros., Scissor Sisters, She Wants Revenge, Shpongle, Skrillex, Sleigh Bells, Steve Angello, Sven Vath, Take, Tame Impala, Terror Danjah, Thao and the Get Down Stay Down, The Aquabats, The Black Keys, The Chemical Brothers, The Drums, The Felice Brothers, The Henry Clay People, The Joy Formidable, The Kills, The London Suede, The Love Language, The Morning Benders, The National, The New Pornographers, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, The Presets, The Radio Dept., The Rural Alberta Advantage, The Strokes, The Swell Season, The Tallest Man on Earth, The Twelves, Thunderball, Tinie Tempah, Titus Andronicus, Tokimonsta, Trampled by Turtles, Trentemoller, Twin Shadow, Two Door Cinema Club, Warpaint, Wire, Wiz Khalifa, Yacht, Yelle and Zed Bias.

Three-day weekend passes, along with camping passes, go on sale Friday, January 21, at 10:00 AM (PT) through Ticketmaster.com, by phone at 1-800-745-3000, and at www.coachella.com.

LINKS
Coachella 2010
Coachella 2009
Coachella 2008 review
Coachella 2007 review

Every time Michael Vick gets hit,an angel dog earns its wings...

2011-01-08T20:11:00.000-08:00

I believe that Michael Vick deserves a second chance in life, I just don't believe that he deserves a second chance to play in the National Football League.

He facilitated and expedited the rape of dogs, where females were bound to poles so that they could be forcefully and violently impregnated. The puppies were then raised and trained to be fighters and killers, neglected to sharpen their survival instincts, and tortured to instill a horrifying sense of fear and tolerance of pain.

Then the dogs were pitted against each other for Michael Vick and his crew's sadistic pleasure and gambling enjoyment.

If the losing dogs were lucky, they'd be killed in cold blood.

The dogs that weren't killed, were left alive to be tortured and abused more, only to fight another day.

This wasn't a momentary lapse in judgment on Michael Vick's part, and it wasn't an accident. It was premeditated, callously calculated, and carried out with painstaking attention to every heinous detail.

Over, and over, and over again.

This isn't about what Michael Vick allegedly did, this is about what he confessed to doing. There's no grey area in what may or may not have happened - it happened, and he's not denying a single bit of it.

According to a court of law, he served his legal debt to society. But what about his moral debt to society? The debt that can't be paid off by a donation to the Humane Society, or by visiting a handful of inner-city schools and trying to explain why what he did was wrong, despite the fact that he still makes excuses for his behavior.

Because, in the end, it didn't matter that what he did was wrong - when the time came to be held accountable for deciding to embrace being a thug instead of a professional athlete and role model, the Philadelphia Eagles welcomed him back with opened arms.

And when that opportunity turned into one of the most remarkable physical comebacks in the history of professional sports, Barack Obama - the President of the United States, the leader of the free world, and the man that hung his election on a mantra of hope - called the Eagles' owner to commend the team for giving Michael Vick a second chance.

Because everybody deserves a second chance.

Bullshit.

Michael Vick has been coddled since the day his opportunistic handlers realized he was a goldmine of athletic potential.

Money. Gifts. Attention. Excuses.

All in abundance. All without accountability.

He received a scholarship to Virginia Tech, and every opportunity in the world to advance his lot in life. To improve the world of those around him. And to be an example for others to emulate.

Instead, he chose to remain a thug. A thug who could tuck a football under his arm and run - a thug with carte blanche to take his miscreant ways off the street, and behind closed doors.

Should Michael Vick get a second chance? Of course he should - in life. Not in the National Football League.

America is a country in crisis, and our youth need role models to emulate, not a path of excuses defined by moral cop-outs.

Michael Vick was given every opportunity to rise above the culture he claims dictated his behavior and handling of dogs. Yet he chose to defy those opportunities, and mock the establishment that presented him with a once-in-a-lifetime chance to cash in a golden ticket.

Let his second chance at success be outside the National Football League. Let him use the college education that he got for free... What? He didn't graduate? Maybe he should have thought of that before he entered the NFL following his sophomore year of college.

He strapped his entire future to a professional sport that, even in failure, could make him enough money to last a lifetime. Yet he respected that sport so little that he needed to raise, train, torture and kill dogs for personal fulfillment.

It doesn't matter how many schools he speaks to, the real message to those students is loud and clear - you can make a grave, calculated, callous and criminal mistake so heinous that the end result would make anyone with a conscience's stomach curdle, and as long as you can blame your upbringing, even the President of the United States will have your back.

America needs to stop making excuses, and America needs to stop accepting excuses.

America needs to stand for something, or we'll fall for anything.

And right now, we're falling hard.

I've boycotted the Philadelphia Eagles all season long, refusing to watch or support any team that would give an opportunity to a man that epitomizes everything I think is wrong with America today.

I have also boycotted Nike since they announced that they would again endorse Michael Vick. If Nike choose to make him a face of their company, Nike are making a bold statement that they don't want me buying their clothing.

I am breaking my Philadelphia Eagles boycott to watch my Green Bay Packers make the trip to the City of Brotherly Thugs for the opening round of the playoffs.

Not because I want to watch Michael Vick, but because I want to watch the Green Bay Packers - a team I grew to love as a college student in Milwaukee, where they played half their home games. And a team I learned to love even more when I covered them for the Associated Press in the mid-'90s.

Make no mistake, the game is about more than football for me - it is a battle for control of America's moral compass. A compass that may be cracked, but a compass that can still be repaired.

I am not, and will not, end my boycott of Nike.

We need to stand for something, or we'll fall for anything.

And America needs to stop falling.

Humanely raised and handled... then killed

2011-01-04T13:54:00.001-08:00

I love meat. A lot.

You know what makes meat even better? More meat. What isn't better with bacon?

Meat is so good, they make fake meat for people who choose not to eat meat. I call it the comedy section at the grocery store - the part of the refrigerated/frozen food aisle where they have the chicken-flavored tofu, so that the people that are fundamentally opposed to eating meat, can still savor the taste of the thing they're opposed to eating, while they pretend to eat it.

If it bothers you so much to eat meat, shouldn't it bother you just as much to be reminded of eating meat while you're going out of your way to not eat meat? But I digress...

The Counter is a hamburger chain that's all the rage in Los Angeles, and they recently opened one a few blocks from our house. Knowing that I love me some bacon cheeseburger (the more animal products the better), my wife snapped up a Blackboard Eats discount they were running, and sent me a link to the menu that I copied above.

We've established that I don't have a problem eating meat, right? Even so, I had to laugh at the box boasting "Humanely Raised + Handled" Angus Beef.

That's right the beef at The Counter is HUMANELY raised and handled - then killed, for our eating pleasure.

After I take that first bite of medium-rare, humanely raised and handled, 100% Angus good eats, I'll let you know if I can taste the difference...

INVEST IN MUSIC A new year's resolution that pays dividends

2011-01-03T14:02:00.000-08:00

(Published Dec. 27, 2010 by OurStage.com)

Standing on the Staples Center floor during Roger Waters’ first of five sold-out Southern California performances of The Wall this month, I marveled at how much music has changed since I first became a fan.

To call myself anything short of obsessive as a teenager would be an understatement – but I wasn’t alone, that was how music made a lot of us feel. It wasn’t enough to know everything about the bands we loved, we also wanted to know everything about the bands they loved. We wanted to know why they wore the shirts they wore, and who inspired the lyrics they wrote.

When Anthrax covered a Joe Jackson song, I had to go out and buy the album it was from. When Lars Ulrich talked about the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, I needed to know the bands he was championing. And when I discovered industrial music, I needed to also discover early innovators like Einstürzende Neubauten.

It was my responsibility as a fan, and I took that responsibility seriously. I went to record stores to find new music, read magazines to learn about inspiration and influence, and listened to the radio for news and information. The word fan is derived from the word fanatic for a reason – being a fan took effort, and our efforts were rewarded in kind.

Music wasn’t background noise then, it was the soundtrack to our lives. It meant something, because we needed it to mean something. Our favorite bands helped shape our identity, and that identity couldn’t be researched for free on the internet, bought for .99 on iTunes, and adorned for $19.99 at Hot Topic.

Today, there is no effort required...

(To continue reading, please click here to visit OurStage.com)

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-25T14:50:00.001-08:00

SNL releases unaired Paul McCartney skit

2010-12-15T12:29:00.003-08:00

Saturday Night Live has released an outtake from last weekend's show (12/14/10, view here) featuring musical guest Paul McCartney - the sketch features the Beatles frontman and guest host Paul Rudd in one of the night's more hilarious skits.

Download below, or click here to view at PaulMcCartney.com.

First Brett Favre, now the Metrodome...

2010-12-13T11:26:00.000-08:00

If this doesn't sum up the Minnesota Vikings season, nothing will!

Remembering Dave Kirby

2010-09-25T00:12:00.001-07:00

A week ago today, TKO [The Kirby Organization] founder and Chairman Dave Kirby lost his battle with prostate cancer. Dave was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer in 2009 and, at that time, made the decision that he was going to devote the final months of his life to his wife and two teenage sons. Nobody outside his inner-most circle knew of his condition until he passed away Saturday in his Manhattan Beach home.

I first met Dave Kirby in New York in the mid-‘90s. I was Executive Editor of a rock magazine, and he was the agent for seemingly every band I covered. It was over our early and mutual belief in bands like Sevendust, Slipknot, Disturbed and Evanescence – bands whose careers he was instrumental in breaking – that we bonded over drinks at shows, standing in the back of venues like Roseland Ballroom, Coney Island High and Irving Plaza, comparing thoughts on the direction that heavy music was heading.

Dave viewed the road as not only the ultimate marketing tool, but also a key cog in the artist development wheel, and he was constantly applying that mindset to the bands on his roster, which now include Buckcherry, Anthrax, The Cult, Drowning Pool, Kittie, Hank III, Mudvayne and Motorhead. Over the years, I worked with him in several different capacities, from handling content for his website and press for his company, to even managing an act on his roster. Regardless of the project, Dave always had a vision.

Whether he was orchestrating packages for his largest clients, or plotting a road plan for an emerging artist, a meeting with Dave was like being in the midst of a chess game. It was actually an ongoing joke - if we had an 11am meeting, I could count on it being delayed until at least after lunch. Then I could expect to watch two CNN news cycles in his office while he seemed to take care of everything but our scheduled appointment.

If anyone else did that it would piss me off, but not Dave. The longer I'd sit in his office, the more I would learn - his people skills were epic. He could push buttons, then diffuse them a moment later. If it seemed like Dave was more interested in comparing Canadian and American politics, that's only because he was already two steps ahead of the meeting he was entertaining. And when there was a problem? Dave could mediate like no other.

As anyone that worked closely with Dave will attest, his greatest attribute was his loyalty. Once you earned Dave’s respect, you had it forever. And he always had your back. Was he outspoken? Of course he was. But like most successful businessmen, that became part of his charm. Dave Kirby defied the rules, abided by his instincts, and was beholden to nothing more than his gut.

And isn’t that what great music is all about? Great music, and great music executives. With the exception of maybe Sharon Osbourne, Dave did more for hard rock and heavy metal in the past fifteen years than anyone I can recall. And even OZZfest has Dave to thank - in 2001 alone, he represented eleven bands on the tour.

When I argued that we shouldn’t try and keep his cancer under wraps, suggesting that we should go public before rumors start to take on a life of their own, he just shook his head and said not to worry… And in typical Dave Kirby fashion, everything worked out. No, not for the best – we lost a great man to a crippling disease. But Dave Kirby had a plan, and he never strayed from it.

He died in his own bed, in the arms of his wife and the glow of his sons. He went out with dignity and pride, and he didn’t stress his friends and colleagues over worrying about how to act or how to feel. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him, he just wanted to cherish the time he had left with the people he loved most.

He left this life like he lived life – on his own terms. And in the end, just like the careers of the countless bands he launched, his plan was an unmitigated success. Right down to putting a team in place that he knew would not only carry TKO into the future, but also further his legacy of developing artists on the road and in front of fans, where their music means the most.

Dave believed that a major problem with today’s music industry is that too many people can’t see the proverbial forest through the trees. He knew that to have a forest, first you needed to grow the trees – and the stronger the trees, the stronger the forest.

If everyone in this business worried as much as Dave did about growing strong trees, I can only imagine how much stronger this industry would be…

Rest in peace, Dave, you’ve earned it!

DaveKirby.1000memories.com

LINKS:
TKO on Twitter
TKO on Tumblr
TKO on Facebook
Paul Gargano on Twitter

METALLICA, SLAYER, MEGADETH & ANTHRAX...The Big 4 - live in our living rooms!

2010-09-23T01:08:00.001-07:00

On November 2, The Big 4 are delivering the big score... Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax - live in our living rooms!

America may have felt jilted when the titans teamed-up for seven shows overseas this summer, but we got a fistful of the metal when they broadcast the Sofia, Bulgaria show as a one-off in cinemas nationwide. Now - in what might be the longest commercial trailer of all time - that cinematic release is coming to DVD and Blu-Ray.

The November 2 release of The Big 4: Live from Sofia, Bulgaria will feature full sets from all four bands, as well as behind-the-scenes and interview footage. There will also be a "super deluxe" box set that includes the 2-DVDs, as well as five audio CDs of the show, a 24-page booklet, a poster, photos of each band and a Big 4 guitar pick.

Why do I call it the biggest commercial trailer of all time? Because I can't imagine Metallica not bringing this package to America sooner than later. Eminem and Jay-Z stole headlines when they teamed up for the biggest hip-hop shows of all time this summer - and The Big 4 will make them look like amateur hour.

Simply put, it's too big not to happen...

And to get us ready? Don't forget about the Jagermeister Music Tour, which kicks off tomorrow night in Dallas [click here for complete itinerary] and features Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax sharing North American stages for the first time in two decades!

LINKS:
Official Metallica website
Official Slayer website
Official Megadeth website
Official Anthrax website
Paul Gargano on Twitter

DAVE KIRBYJuly 10, 1954 - September 18, 2010

2010-09-20T01:59:00.000-07:00

It is with deep sorrow that The Kirby Organization [TKO] announces the passing of their founder and Chairman, Dave Kirby, who succumbed Saturday to a prolonged battle with prostate cancer.

Dave was diagnosed in 2009, and upon receiving the news that his condition was inoperable and terminal, elected to take a backseat in the control of the company in order to spend his final months with his family – his wife Christine, and teenage sons David and Alex. While the cancer had taken a toll, he died in his own home, in his own bed, with dignity, and surrounded by love. He was 56 years old.

In lieu of flowers, it is requested that donations be made to the Prostate Cancer Foundation in Dave Kirby’s name. To share memories of Dave, please visit his online memorial at 1000memories.com. A public celebration of his life is planned for late October, with details to be forthcoming.

TKO will continue to flourish as a company as not only a legacy to Dave Kirby, but also as a tribute to his dedication and devotion to his employees and bands. The structure of the company will remain the same as it has since Dave appointed new titles and responsibilities more than a year ago:

Mike Monterulo - Chief Executive Officer (CEO)
Andrew Goodfriend - President
Dan DeVita - Sr. Vice President
Rika O'Connor-Gargano - Chief Operating Officer (COO)
Michael Ullman - Chief Financial Officer (CFO)

“Although we are very sad to lose a mentor, friend and family member, Dave made it very clear to us upon his diagnosis that he wanted TKO to thrive in his absence,” said Monterulo. “The company will not only thrive, but also grow, expanding its reach and continuing to further define our place as one of the music industry’s most respected boutique agencies.”

Since its inception in September 2005, TKO has grown into one of the music industry’s premier booking agencies, and was nominated for the esteemed Boutique Booking Agency of the Year award at the 2010 Pollstar Concert Industry Awards. With a roster of more than 100 artists, the company’s clients include Buckcherry, Papa Roach, Motorhead, Anthrax, Hellyeah, Mudvayne, The Cult, Ray Manzarek and Robby Krieger of the Doors, Hank III and Drowning Pool.

“The one thing that Dave Kirby always instilled in us was to believe in the bands we work with, respect their music, and encourage their development,” said Goodfriend. “That is the foundation that this company is built on, and that is the foundation that this company will continue to build upon in the years to come.”

Those of you who know Dave, can picture him now – Heineken in one hand, Blackberry in the other, sailing into the sunset…

LINKS:
TKO on Twitter

"Anyone on Long Island need furniture?"Yes, Mankind is giving his love seat away...

2010-09-15T10:46:00.001-07:00

From the 'Why Twitter Rules' department...

Professional wrestling superstar turned bestselling author Mick Foley - widely known as WWE legend Mankind, a tortured soul in ratty clothes whose finishing move involved putting on a sock puppet and sticking his hand down his opponents mouth until they couldn't breath - is giving his furniture away.

This via his Twitter account earlier today:

@realMickFoley Anyone on LI need furniture? Love seat, couch, TV, ent center delivered Fri from my home to yours. Free.

@realMickFoley Other cool stuff, too. Brand new log furniture-2 dressers+Queen bed frame. Decorate your home the Hardcore way for free.

That's right - if you live on Long Island (are you reading this, Diddy?), Mick Foley will even have the furniture delivered! The only catch? You need to be home Friday to meet the truck, and you also need to be willing to return any of the hardcore legends' teeth or ears that might be lodged between seat cushions.

Yes, this is the same Mick Foley who bites his opponents' foreheads as a signature move... Imagine what went down in that love seat!

Kidding aside, Foley is one hell of a writer. "Scooter" is one of the most memorable pieces of fiction I've read in years - his dark sense of humor and jagged, real and uncensored look at adolescent life is compelling, and his prose is engaging. Even better? The story is bound by a love for baseball.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I haven't read "Tietam Brown" yet - but it just shot to the top of my reading list.

He's also written three children's books and three memoirs. Foley's fourth autobiography, "Crossing the Line," is forthcoming, and his four-issue comic book series "R.P.M." will be debut this November. Currently active with TNA wresting, Foley writes a weekly column for the company's website.

See how that works? Mick Foley is giving his "brand new log furniture" away, and I end up buying his book.

Mr. Socko likes that a lot!

LINKS:
Mick Foley on Twitter
Paul Gargano on Twitter

Five Albums :: Five MinutesUPROAR TOUR EDITION

2010-09-13T00:09:00.001-07:00

THE PROBLEM: I have too many albums that I want to write about, and too little time to actually write about them.
THE SOLUTION: I take five albums that are in my active iPod rotation, and give myself five minutes to write about each.
THE CATCH: I like to digest albums before writing about them - these may not be new releases, but they'll all be the artist's latest.
THE CAVEAT: Since we can't all keep up on everything, I can rest assured that these albums will be new to somebody.

All five of these bands are on this summer's Rockstar Energy Drink UPROAR tour [click here for a complete itinerary] - maybe I'll see you at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater this Friday (September 17), when the tour stops in Irvine, CA...

AVENGED SEVENFOLD
Nightmare
(Warner Bros. Records)

Haunted by the death of drummer Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan, Nightmare is the soundtrack to ripping off a bandage and exposing torn, raw flesh. The pain is searing, and Avenged Sevenfold cope by shredding through 11 tracks that couple early-Metallica thrash ("Buried Alive") and prog-rock flash ("Save Me") with Guns N Roses-seasoned sass ("Nightmare"). Cauterized by an epic flair, the album is stellar. "Victim" hums like a modern day "Great Gig in the Sky."

Standout tracks: "Danger Line" & "Fiction"
Official website: www.avengedsevenfold.com

DISTURBED
Asylum
(Warner Bros./Reprise Records)

In 2008, I hailed Indestructible as Disturbed's crowning achievement - it appears I spoke too soon. The band soar to even greater heights on Asylum, delivering a molten rush of metal that translates the genre's legend into a heady, futuristic vision. David Draiman's vocals are distinctive, but never distracting, providing a jarring compliment to the band's crushing sonics. My only complaint? The U2 cover isn't renamed "I Still Haven't Found Wha-ah-ah-aht I'm Looking For."

Standout tracks: "Infection" & "Never Again"
Official website: www.disturbed1.com

Halestorm
Halestorm
(Atlantic Records)

I like Evanescence. I like We Are The Fallen more. I like Lacuna Coil most. Halestorm follow the female-fronted rock formula so well, they could be a cover band. So much so, I feel dirty listening to them - like I'm cheating on Cristina Scabbia. Then a hook grabs me, and Lzzy Hale throws me down with sex-kitten vocals that make me feel even dirtier. I want her to stop, but I can only whimper for more. I feel filthy. I'm powerless against her. If my wife asks, I'll deny all of this.

Standout tracks: "I Get Off" & "Dirty Work"
Official website: www.halestormrocks.com

HELLYEAH
Stampede
(Epic Records)

What started as a supergroup featuring members of Pantera, Mudvayne, Damageplan and Vision of Disorder, has gelled into a cohesive force of southern-fired nature. Hellyeah level a charge of bulging riffs and beefy drum beats under Blacktooth-inspired lyrics on Stampede - if "It's On" and "Pole Rider" don't tell you all you need to know, you're probably not ready to getcha pull. There's also plenty of their heavy pedigree - the sludgy "Order the Sun" does Pantera proud.

Standout tracks: "Cowboy Way" & "Better Man"
Official website: www.hellyeahband.com

STONE SOUR
Audio Secrecy
(Roadrunner Records)

Audio Secrecy exposes one of the best-kept secrets in mainstream rock. The 17-track opus rivals the Foo Fighters in intensity ("Say You'll Haunt Me"), Nickelback in accessibility ("Dying"), and even glances to frontman Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root's other band, Slipknot ("The Bitter End"). "Imperfect" resonates on the light end, "Let's Be Honest" percolates on the heavy end, and "Anna" runs the full-bodied spectrum. A stellar addition to Album of the Year debates.

Standout tracks: "Threadbare" & "Hesitate"
Official website: www.stonesour.com

September 11, 2001 - Never Forget.

2010-09-11T12:14:00.001-07:00

I remember where I was on the morning of September 11, 2001.

I remember being in the W Hotel in Chicago, in town to join the band Soil at their CD release party, scheduled for that night at the Cabaret Metro. I remember the phone ringing shortly before 8am our time, and my college roommate - who slept in my room with his girlfriend after driving down from Milwaukee to hang out the night before - wondering why his mother kept calling.

I remember when he finally answered his phone, his side of the conversation, and him hanging up. I remember him looking across the room at me with groggy eyes, and saying that his mom said someone flew a plane into the World Trade Center.

We assumed that it was a twin-engine, and turned on CNN to watch coverage of the accident. We watched as the first plane and tower burned, and learned that it wasn't, in fact, a twin-engine.

And we learned that it wasn't an accident.

We watched and listened in stunned silence as details emerged. And our hearts sunk as the second plane crashed into the second tower.

We watched people leap to their death from 100 stories in the air, trying to escape the hell that was unleashed around them.

We watched the towers fall, and felt connected to the countless souls wandering, ash covered, in the streets of lower Manhattan.

The emotion was nothing I'd ever felt - and nothing I'll ever forget.

My friends from Soil were in the air when it happened. I had another friend whose plane landed safely in New York, despite passing and witnessing the burning World Trade Center in their landing pattern.

I knew people who worked in the World Trade Center, and it took days to confirm that they had survived.

And I have a friend who lost a brother in the attack.

I will never forget how that felt - the horror, the loss, the anger, the helplessness, the frustration...

The terror, as the Sears Tower was evacuated as a possible target for the fourth plane, and the grim reality of the new era we were entering as our hotel became a gathering center for evacuees from the nearby landmark.

Nine years later, I reflect on that day at least a few times a week. I can't help it - it is part of my wiring. It has become part of who I am. The events of that day - and the months and years that followed - have helped shape the man that I am, my politics, my spiritual presence, and my cultural identity.

And today, on the ninth anniversary of one of the most horrifying attacks ever waged on American soil, my heart aches not only for the loss, but also for the way history attempts to revise and rewrite the events of September 11, 2001.

September 11 is a day to not only celebrate and mourn the lives of fellow Americans, but also the freedom that their loss represents.

Inherent in freedom, is tolerance - not a shiny, happy concept of tolerance, but living and breathing acts of tolerance that are rooted in respect, not entitlement. Acts that are reciprocal.

For every mention I've seen today of the lives lost in the events of 9/11, I've seen many more mentions of the controversial mosque being planned near the Ground Zero site, and the ensuing fallout - much of it ridiculous, racist and laden in fear.

I have no problem with building a mosque at Ground Zero. What I have an extreme problem with, is the intolerance of someone actually proposing and fighting to build a mosque at that location.

Tolerance isn't a blanket ideology, it is a work in progress that must be exercised with practicality and temperance, and coupled with humility and humanity.

There is something inhumane and self-absorbed about the mere proposal of building a mosque at Ground Zero. There is something intolerant and callous about the ongoing fight to keep it there.

Today, on the ninth anniversary of 9/11, I don't want to read about what this day represents to religious tolerance.

I don't want to hear about how we need to be bigger than the extremists that attacked us, and show them that we are a better people by letting a mosque be built near Ground Zero.

I want to remember Ground Zero. I want to remember the people that died there. I want to remember the horror that I felt, and revel in the awakening that the events offered me.

It wasn't an awakening of intolerance, it was an awakening of who we are as a country, and how we need to constantly establish that identity in the midst of people who want to strip it away.

An act of tolerance is nothing if not coupled with respect. And respect is earned, not granted.

I respect the nearly 3000 Americans that lost their lives on September 11, 2001, in the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and in the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. I respect that their deaths are an unfortunate and horrific cost to pay for a country that is rooted in principles of freedom, liberty and tolerance.

Tolerance that, too often, is taken for granted.

On this day, don't just remember 9/11, respect the memory of 9/11 - the people that died, the loved ones that mourn them, and the country that was attacked.

Respect. Tolerance will follow.

Never forget.

MIKE PORTNOY QUITS DREAM THEATERCan the band beat on without its heart?

2010-09-09T01:21:00.000-07:00

I'm a big fan of irony.

Earlier this afternoon, I loaded the entire Dream Theater catalog onto my iPod. Until this afternoon, only two of the band's 10 studio albums were found on the 80GB drive. Why the sudden urge to drown myself in musical theory? Avenged Sevenfold.

A quick timeline: In 1985 - one year after the youngest member of the band Avenged Sevenfold is born - Mike Portnoy forms the band Majesty while attending the Berklee College of Music. Majesty would become Dream Theater.

Over the next quarter-century, Dream Theater would release ten studio albums and come to define the progressive metal genre. Likewise, Mike Portnoy is universally acknowledged as one of the greatest rock drummers of all time.

Avenged Sevenfold, meanwhile, burst from their Southern California roots and emerged as a hard rock and heavy metal powerhouse with City of Evil, their major label debut in 2005. When drummer Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan died of a drug overdose late last year, many wondered what would come next for the band - and in the most unlikely of announcements, Mike Portnoy was enlisted to record drums on new release Nightmare, as well as accompany them on this year's tours to support the album.

Earlier today, on Twitter, I said of the record: The new @TheOfficialA7X is musical quicksand - it's got me waist-deep and keeps pulling... (Pull me under, I'm not afraid.)

Absorbed in Nightmare, I was inspired to listen to more Dream Theater. Makes sense, right? Not to Dream Theater.

About five hours after my Twitter post and ensuing addition of the Dream Theater catalog to my iPod, Mike Portnoy announced that he was leaving Dream Theater [read his full statement here].

I've been a fan of Dream Theater for the past two decades, and at the forefront of that fandom have been Mike Portnoy and frontman James LaBrie. Portnoy was the band's heart, LaBrie the band's soul.

Science was never my strong suit in school, but I'm fairly certain that losing your heart isn't a good thing.

The journalist in me wants to wait to hear both sides of the story, but this is a rare instance where I feel justified to overrule my professional sensibilities. Or, as my career has paralleled that of Dream Theater, perhaps I'm honoring those sensibilities...

A number of people have asked me how this happened, as well as why it happened. While I don't know anything more than I read in Mike Portnoy's statement, I can say this - when I made the decision to leave Metal Edge, a magazine I dedicated my blood, sweat and tears into running for a decade, people asked the same questions.

Sadly, sometimes the decisions that are the hardest for us to make, are also the easiest. Not because we want to make them, but because we know that we need to make them. By the time I left Metal Edge, I knew that there was no other option. The magazine was destined to fail under its new ownership, and I realized that I was in no position to prevent that from happening.

Two years and three editors later, Metal Edge went out of business.

What does this have to do with Dream Theater? Everything. I can relate to Mike Portnoy's decision, because I know exactly how it feels to know that you're out of options.

And he was clearly out of options - you don't walk away unless you have no other choice.

So, yes, the irony isn't lost on me that on the day I plunged back into the swirling waters of Dream Theater, their drummer made the choice to climb out of the water and towel off.

I'm the first person in the world to defend Journey without Steve Perry, Van Halen after they hired Sammy Hagar, and KISS with only half their original members.

But Dream Theater without Mike Portnoy?

Where's the heart?

LINKS:
Mike Portnoy on Twitter
Avenged Sevenfold on Twitter
Paul Gargano on Twitter

ADDENDUM:
About 12 hours after I posted the above piece, Dream Theater released their statement concerning Portnoy's departure from the band [read their full statement here]. If you're looking for additional insight into the band's dynamics, focus on the line: "File this episode under ‘Black Clouds and Silver Linings.’ As planned, we begin recording our new album in January 2011..." In other words, the band views Mike's departure as a black cloud, with the silver lining being that they'll record a new album without him. For people that think Mike Portnoy is bitter - perhaps now you understand why. Great bands overcome great trauma - Rush gave Neil Peart the time he needed to deal with tragedy, Metallica aired their dirty laundry in therapy for the world to see, and even the Police were able to pull it together for a reunion. Sure, there are many more examples of bands that haven't persevered inner-band turmoil, I just never expected Dream Theater to be one of them.

Welcome to AST (Axl Standard Time): The official timezone of Guns N Roses

2010-09-03T14:06:00.000-07:00

Come on, people, this is Axl Rose we're talking about... If you don't know by now that he's not going onstage 'on-time,' it's time to get an internet connection for the rock you live under.

To the best of my knowledge, the man hasn't taken the stage 'on-time' since Ronald Reagan was President. It's not news anymore, it just is what it is. If you can't deal with it, don't buy a ticket to the show - if it gets to a point where Guns N Roses can't sell tickets, maybe they'll reconsider making people wait so long.

I've endured a prolonged changeover at least a half-dozen times, and each time the show was well worth the wait - with and without Slash, and regardless of who was in the band. Again, it is what it is. If you want to see Guns N Roses, it's part of the experience - if you don't want the experience, don't buy the ticket.

As for the fans in Dublin who were pelting him with bottles because of the wait before Wednesday night's show [video here] - how about if I start throwing garbage at the guy in Jiffy Lube the next time my oil change takes longer than 20 minutes? Or at the restaurant staff the next time I've decided that my food is taking too long? Or the postal carrier when I don't think my mail arrived fast enough...

That's not how civilized society functions - if I was Axl's manager, I'd have pulled him off the stage before he had a chance to leave on his own. (For the record, the band resumed the set about an hour later.)

Yet, I can't blame anyone but Guns N Roses for what happened August 27 at the Reading Festival, where the band took the stage 90 minutes before the already-extended curfew, then refused to leave when promoters pulled the plug at curfew, before they could finish their set (that's Axl and co. below, during their Ghandi-like sit-in).

Axl made a statement Monday, via Twitter: "So u know, we allegedly had a deal in place pre show w/the city at least at Leeds to do a bit longer performance that was either miscommunication, someone wasn't informed, changed their mind, didn't care or was a con."

On Tuesday, he followed with this, also via Twitter: "Our start times at the Reading and Leeds festivals factually had nothing to do with us as the previous bands (who were great by the way) came off stage when they did and we went on within' our contracted and documented changeover time period... A simple question: If you are aware of our changeover time, the average length of our show and the general nature of how these types of festivals run all of which are no big secrets...why book us?"

He raises a very valid point - the same point I raised earlier: When you book Guns N Roses, there's no excuse not to know what you're getting. He is also evading the real issue altogether - the argument isn't over Guns N Roses going on late, it's over Guns N Roses blaming someone else when their set was cut short due to a curfew.

The following was printed on the website of U.K. magazine NME:

Festival chief Melvin Benn said: "After failing to take to the stage at the scheduled 9.30pm (BST) time, the performance started at 10.30pm and the band were given permission by the festival to play 30 minutes extra to its scheduled 11.30pm finish until midnight... Guns N' Roses wanted to 'extend' the new agreed curfew past midnight but were prevented from doing so in order to comply with the entertainment licence issued by Reading Borough Council."

Make no mistake, I am an Axl Rose apologist - but just because I'm a fan, doesn't mean I can't be objective.

In the case of Reading, Axl Rose and his band have no right to blame the promoters for not letting them finish their set - if playing a full set meant that much to the band, they should have taken the stage with enough time to guarantee that it would happen before curfew.

As for Dublin? If you are looking for someone to blame, blame the idiots throwing bottles.

LINKS:
Axl Rose on Twitter
Paul Gargano on Twitter

PAUL GARGANO ARCHIVE:
2008 Album of the Year: Chinese Democracy
GNR Live Review: 12/17/2006 (Universal Amphitheater, L.A.)
GNR Live Review: 9/23/2006 (Glen Helen Pavilion, Devore, CA)

How do you spell amphitheater?

2010-09-02T12:53:00.002-07:00

GOO GOO DOLLS: Better than Bon Jovi? (08.29.10 - Greek Theatre, L.A.)

2010-08-30T16:12:00.001-07:00

If I had a dollar for every person that says, "I loved the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metal Blade Records...", I'd have more money than the Goo Goo Dolls made in that early phase of their career.

I'm not that guy. I liked them then, but there were way too many bands I liked a whole lot more to really say that they stood out - until they started writing pop songs.

I turned to my wife a few songs into the Buffalo trio's show last night at the Greek Theatre and said, "I know you'll say I'm crazy, but the Goo Goo Dolls may have ousted Bon Jovi in my book..." To her credit, she didn't call me crazy - but she did give me the scrunched-up 'you're crazy' face, followed by a 'who are you, and what have you done with my husband' smirk.

Bon Jovi's reign of pop-rock supremacy began September 19, 1988, the day New Jersey was released and I first listened to the cassette in my high school parking lot. The album remains one of my all-time favorites, and to this day I maintain that "Lay Your Hands On Me" is one of the best opening tracks ever - live and on record. Yet, with every passing year, they fall a bit further down my musical hierarchy.

I still like them, I just don't love them. The easy explanation is that I outgrew them. The more complicated explanation details why I outgrew them - Bon Jovi shifted gears. They used to feel inspired and radiated an energy, now they're more inclined to repackage old plot lines to appease middle-aged women and win over country converts. That's fantastic marketing, I just don't fall into either group - I've lost the connection that burned throughout the '90s.

Which brings me back to the Goo Goo Dolls. I feel a connection to their songs that intensifies with every listen. "Iris" boasts one of my all-time favorite lyrics. "Broadway" is lined with brilliant wordplay. "Name" flames with passion. "Better Days" is a majestic snapshot of the human spirit. "Dizzy" swirls like a whirlwind.

Because the band are a master class in pop-rock songwriting, I don't mind that I can't seem to connect with their live show. I feel the songs - and as any music fan will agree, that's more than enough to make any concert a night to remember.

I like frontman Johnny Rzeznik, he just doesn't grab me live. It's as if he doesn't own the songs and he's just borrowing them, using them as a backdrop for the music video being choreographed each night onstage. The lighting is impressive and the smoke is a nice touch, but it's like watching 3D television - you ooh and aah a few times, but you never really feel like you're one with the show.

The band sounded great at the Greek Theatre, the performance just wasn't dynamic and alive - it's as if all of Rzeznik's focus is on looking the part of a VH1 heartthrob, and he's lost the spark that fueled him back in the more high-impact days of Hold Me Up and Superstar Car Wash. Bassist Robby Takac injects the show with a punk rock tailspin on the four tracks he sings, but I need more.

My solution? Strip the Goo Goo Dolls to their core and put them on a club tour. Don't just forget about style, go out of your way to defy it. You don't worry about your hair, you worry about staying hydrated. The focus should be on sweating through every song in an over-packed room where you can look your fans in the eye and visualize your connection. In the more intimate setting, you're pressed to interact, something that was non-existent last night.

Let the audience feel you feeling your music, then capture that energy and carry it over to the larger stages... Shift gears.

Could the Goo Goo Dolls be bigger than Bon Jovi? Not likely. But as far as being better goes, they've already got the songs. You know what that means? That's right - whoa, oh, they're halfway there...

I can say this much - if both Bon Jovi and the Goo Goo Dolls were in town on the same night, right now I'd be hard-pressed not to support the boys from Buffalo. Sorry, New Jersey.

GOO GOO DOLLS SETLIST

1- Sweetest Lie
2- Big Machine
3- Slide
4- Dizzy
5- Here Is Gone
6- Another Second Time Around [RT vox]
7- Smash [RT vox]
8- Can't Let It Go
9- Black Balloon
10- Home
11- Better Days
12- Stay With You
13- Now I Hear [RT vox]
14- Tucked Away [RT vox]
15- Name
16- Let Love In
17- As I Am
18- All Eyes On Me
19- Acoustic No. 3
20- Iris
ENCORE
21- Not Broken
22- Broadway

Five Albums :: Five Minutes

2010-08-26T13:56:00.001-07:00

BLACK LABEL SOCIETY
Order of the Black
(E1 Music)

Imagine Ted Nugent on a diet of steroid-spiked sludge shakes. Order of the Black doesn't deviate from the bone-crushing course of it's predecessors, but why should it? It ain't broke, yet Zakk still shreds it, his sinister, sexy, slamming riffs ripping from Iommi-inspired metallic fury to more southern-flavored, melodic glory. "Godspeed Hellbound" melts your face, "War of Heaven" stomps on it, then "Shallow Grave" soothes you in its earthy musk. In a word? Colossal.

Standout tracks: "Overlord" & "Time Waits For No One"
Official website: www.zakkwylde.com

FOZZY
Chasing the Grail
(Riot Entertainment)

For the first time in Fozzy's four-album history, they feel like a band, not a handful of musicians plying their trade behind a professional wrestling superstar. Chris Jericho's development is profound on Chasing the Grail, the warmth and texture of his Ozzy-seasoned vocals not only kicking the powerhouse metal outfit up a notch, but doing it with heart, soul, and a compelling conviction. The walls of Jericho have fallen, and Fozzy emerge as a triumphant force.

Standout tracks: "Under Blackened Skies" & "Wormwood"
Official website: www.fozzyrock.com

PEARL
Little Immaculate White Fox
(R.E.D. Distribution)

There's nothing nasty about the solo debut from this former Motley Crue backup singer. She may be a little woman, but Pearl's got a big voice - like that of a late-'70s, rhythm and blues soaked songbird transported thirty years into the future to show today's screamers what a body full of soul can sound like. Think Alannah Myles with a bionic set of pipes. Pearl is a modern day classic, retro-fit to remind us how rock and roll is supposed to feel.

Standout tracks: "My Heart Isn't In It" & "Nobody"
Official website: www.cheersloverock.com

RATT
Infestation
(Roadrunner/Loud & Proud)

I was playing this album at a party, and someone asked me which old Ratt album he was missing... That's high praise for a band more than a quarter-century removed from their emergence as one of the '80's signature hard rock acts. The hooks are deep, the rhythm section bounces hard, fast and heavy, and Stephen Pearcy's vocals sound timeless. This is one of the best post-'95 albums by any band to emerge from the hallowed Hollywood scene.

Standout tracks: "Best of Me" & "Look Out Below"
Official website: www.therattpack.com

W.A.S.P.
Babylon
(Demolition Records)

From the seismic guitars and rattling drum tremors, to the Blackie Lawless vocal reverb and lyrical depth charges, this is classic W.A.S.P. The album is inspired by the four horsemen of the apocalypse, but you can't miss The Who shining through, even on covers of Deep Purple's "Burn" and Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley's "Promised Land." If you've never given W.A.S.P. a chance, Babylon is the ideal album to make you a believer.

Standout tracks: "Live to Die Another Day" & "Babylon's Burning"
Official website: www.waspnation.com

VIDEO: Jason Charles Miller"You Get What You Pay For"

2010-08-16T10:34:00.000-07:00

Jason Charles Miller made his solo debut on the Aug. 1 episode of the HBO hit series True Blood, where his song "You Get What You Pay For" could be heard just past the show's 20-minute mark (episode title: Hitting the Ground).

Today he released the video for the song, a backwoods adrenaline surge that couples the track's rattlesnake rhythm with a punchy narrative that co-stars Felicia Day and Greg Grunberg.

Day is widely recognized as the star, creator, writer and producer of the breakthrough web series The Guild, and also for her role in the TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Since the Streamy Awards were launched in 2009, Day has won both awards for Best Female Actor in a Comedy Series for her role in The Guild.

Miller, frontman of the rock band Godhead, co-wrote and produced the song “Game On” for The Guild, and the track was released earlier this month as a promotional music video (watch here) for the web series' fourth season, which is currently underway.

Greg Grunberg is best known for his starring role on the NBC television series Heroes, as well as for his reoccurring roles on Alias and Felicity. He has also appeared on Lost, House and Monk.

"You Get What You Pay For" also made its national radio debut this month, being featured on Buzz Brainard’s Altville, a syndicated weekly program that combines the best in Alternative, Progressive and Insurgent Country with Americana and Roots Rock.

The single is available now on iTunes and Amazon.

OZZFEST 2010: The Setlists(08.14.10 - San Manuel Amp., Devore, CA)

2010-08-15T20:17:00.001-07:00

OZZY OSBOURNE SETLIST

1- Bark At The Moon
2- Let Me Hear You Scream
3- Mr. Crowley
4- Fairies Wear Boots [Black Sabbath]
5- Suicide Solution
6- Road To Nowhere
7- Shot In The Dark
8- Rat Salad [Black Sabbath]
DRUM SOLO
9- Iron Man [Black Sabbath]
11- Killer Of Giants
12- Fire In The Sky
13- I Don't Want To Change The World
14- Paranoid [Black Sabbath]
ENCORE
15- Crazy Train

MOTLEY CRUE SETLIST

1- Kickstart Your Heart
2- Wildside
3- Shout At The Devil
4- Saints Of Los Angeles
5- Looks That Kill
6- Livewire
7- Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)
8- Same Ol' Situation (S.O.S.)
9- Home Sweet Home [Tommy Lee piano intro]
10- Motherfucker Of The Year
11- Ten Seconds To Love
12- Primal Scream
13- Dr. Feelgood
14- Girls, Girls, Girls

HALFORD SETLIST

1- Silent Screams
2- Resurrection
3- Made In Hell
4- Golgotha
5- Crystal
6- Nailed To The Gun [Fight]
7- Made Of Metal
8- Heart Of A Lion [Judas Priest]
9- Never Satisfied [Judas Priest]
10- Savior

ZAKK WYLDE'S BLACK LABEL SOCIETY SETLIST

1- The Beginning... At Last
2- Crazy Horse
3- Overlord
4- Parade Of The Dead
5- Fire It Up
6- Godspeed Hell Bound
ENCORE
7- Stillborn

DROWNING POOL SETLIST

1- Sinner
2- Enemy
3- Feel Like I Do
4- 37 Stitches
5- Step Up
6- Tear Away
7- Bodies

RUSH: The Time Machine Tour(08.13.10 - Verizon Amphitheater, Irvine, CA)

2010-08-14T11:08:00.001-07:00

I first saw Rush on December 5, 1987. Not only were they my first arena show, they were also my first introduction to the caste system within hard rock and heavy metal. Condensing what could be an entire sociology thesis into a few broad generalizations, many of us embraced heavy music as an extension of our identity, searching for acceptance from a non-judgmental ally - and when many of us didn't find what we were looking for, Rush found us.

Many of us were the geeks, the nerds, the outcasts and the castoffs. We didn't play football. We played Dungeons & Dragons. We didn't have girlfriends. We had two or three guy friends. We didn't walk with a swagger. We felt awkward.

We weren't cool, but neither were Rush - and they spoke to us.

Nearly a quarter-century later, they still speak to us - louder, clearer, and without the shackles that may have bound our formative years.

Standing amidst a packed Verizon Ampitheater at the tail end of Rush's 26-song marathon last night, the night belonged to all of us, and we shared a kinship with the music that was magical.

"Limelight" may mean something different to each of us, but all those somethings add up to a lot - and that's what we celebrated together as Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart led us through a performance of their classic album Moving Pictures in its entirety.

From the first time each of us heard Rush, until now, we have been those pictures, getting jostled through life, nicked up, patched up, color corrected and over-saturated. We were the pictures and the songs were our frames, providing us a safe haven in which to escape, or paths from which to explore. And Rush offered frames like no others - frames that were intended to guide us, not contain us.

"I will choose the path that's real, I will choose free will..."

So there we were, 10,000 Rush fans united by our passion for a band who were never afraid to be themselves, affirming that we could do the same in the midst of sprawling "Subdivisions." The opening set focused heavily on the second half of a career now in its fifth decade, tracks like "Stick it Out," "Walkin' Them Angels" and "Marathon" raising themes of faith and focus in their varying forms.

Dubbed the Time Machine Tour, the show offered just that, beginning with the more recent retrospective, continuing with Moving Pictures, and closing with arguably the strongest finale of the band's career. The set took us back, opening with "Spirit of the Radio" and "Time Stand Still" - two tracks that served as transecting dashes between the band's epic roots and more experimental sensibilities. They showed us a glimpse of their present, offering new songs "Brought Up To Believe" and "Caravan" from forthcoming album Clockwork Angels. And they dove into the future with their stalwart, 20-minute opening track to 2112.

The set zigged and zagged through the opening 11 tracks, then careened headlong into Moving Pictures, where the stage was stripped of fancy accoutrements and polish, transporting us back to 1981 with a design more Atari 2600 than Playstation 3.

When one of rock's greatest records is performed by one of rock's greatest bands, choosing highlights is akin to choosing the holiest third of the Trinity - "Tom Sawyer" needed no introduction, "Red Barchetta" was sublime, "Witch Hunt" cackled through the night air, and "Vital Signs" spun the album to its close, providing the perfect lead-in to "Caravan" and the ritual awe of Neil Peart's drum solo.

"La Villa Strangiato" rode the "Far Cry" vapor trail back to earth and eased us into set closer "Working Man," where the Time Machine Tour reinforced its resounding statement - the years may change the way we interpret music, but it's power remains the same, casting a spiritual glow on our psyche and guiding us down our chosen path.

Past, present or future, nobody illuminates a path quite like Rush.

RUSH SETLIST

1- Spirit of the Radio
2- Time Stand Still
3- Presto
4- Stick it Out
5- Workin' Them Angels
6- Leave That Thing Alone
7- Faithless
8- BU2B
9- Freewill
10- Marathon
11- Subdivisions
INTERMISSION
12- Tom Sawyer (Moving Pictures)
13- Red Barchetta (Moving Pictures)
14- YYZ (Moving Pictures)
15- Limelight (Moving Pictures)
16- The Camera Eye (Moving Pictures)
17- Witch Hunt (Moving Pictures)
18- Vital Signs (Moving Pictures)
19- Caravan
DRUM SOLO
21- Closer to the Heart
22- 2112 Part 1: Overture
23- 2112 Part II: The Temples Of Syrinx
24- Far Cry
ENCORE
25- La Villa Strangiato
26- Working Man

MEAT LOAF: Paradise Revisited (08.12.10 - Gibson Amphitheatre, L.A.)

2010-08-13T12:17:00.001-07:00

Meat Loaf has a stellar body of work. Unfortunately, I've had a hard time distancing that body of work from the goofy-by-association branding of a high school girlfriend and her interpretive dance to "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" at senior prom.

For the past twenty-odd years, the man, the myth and the entree have all been intrinsically tied to said girl grinding what God gave her to the play-by-play of New York Yankees Hall of Famer Phil Rizzuto. There's something about that pink dress with the black bow and the faux go-go dance on a banquet chair in the Stamford Marriott ballroom in 1989, that I just haven't been able to jar from my psyche (insert shivers down spine here).

Until last night.

Other than wanting to hear a handful of songs that are integral to America's rock and roll songbook, I had few expectations heading into the Gibson Amphitheatre, where I'd be crossing one of the final acts off my live concert bucket list. I had heard that there was a chance Meat Loaf would cancel the show due to an illness, to which I was actually sympathetic - yesterday was the first day I was even able to think about leaving the house all week, so if he ate from the same batch of eggs I did, I wouldn't blame him for postponing the show in support of his new release Hang Cool Teddy Bear...

But he didn't, and while I anticipated a fair amount of camp - not the unadulterated kitsch of the Blues Brothers review at the adjoining Universal Studios, but something that could come dangerously close - I was anxious to experience his legend live. His songs are larger than life, combining theatrical pomp with rock and roll stomp, and I believe in paying homage to musical royalty every chance we get.

What I didn't expect, was a show that would top the legacy of the songs themselves - a performance where the man born Marvin Lee Aday would not only allow his personality to share center stage with the music, but at times even ride that personality to new heights, enabling the set to throb with a pulse all its own.

While pop-culture regards "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" as a cute song that's safe to play at proms and weddings, we were reminded that when your first name is Meat and your last name is Loaf, cute is all relative.

Introducing a song he wrote either in Boston, or with someone from Boston, a number of cheers could be heard throughout the crowd. I was only half-paying attention, distracted by the threesome in front of us - two guys in Tommy Bahama shirts and Budweiser hats pawing all over a girl who I'm guessing spent some time in the king-size bed of a pickup truck before the night was through. "Oh, we've got people here from Boston?" razzed my fellow Connecticut native from center stage... "Fuck the Red Sox!"

Amen to that, brother Meat!

I lost count of Mr. Loaf's f-bombs around the same time that Tommy Bahama missed his date/escort's mouth for the fourth time, once again licking her face for all of Orchestra 4 to see. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they were planted as part of the show - Meat Loaf had a flair for profanity, and the menage-a-Marlboro were there to act it all out in kind.

This wasn't your mom's Meat Loaf, it was an R-rated rock and roll revival. During "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," we were joined by an enormous blow-up doll of a woman in various stages of undress, a guy mounted behind her, and his hands demonstrating the Scooter's well-documented voice over as he rounded her two-baggers.

The hits were there, but they were more than just classic rock staples from a veteran rocker regurgitating his catalog for a paycheck. This was equal parts rock show, musical theater, improvisation and audience participation, and everything about it was larger than life, bombastic, and fantastic. "Bat Out of Hell" was smoking hot, "You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth" was a roof-raising celebration, and "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" rivaled even "Paradise" in execution.

Taking a seat on a stool for a song, Meat Loaf joked about his age - he turns 63 on September 27 - but he delivered a set that put frontmen a third his age to shame. He even had grown men to the right of me doing chest bumps during "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad."

I didn't need to chest bump, as I was enjoying a revelation all my own. Now, when I hear "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," I don't think of a prissy little package tied with a bow. No, now I think of Meat Loaf - a man that can deliver the hits and still put the 'fun' in erectile dysfunction, his "big surprise" in hand (pictured above) and pumping white loads of cotton t-shirts into the crowd.

Live music is meant to be a celebration, and that's exactly what Meat Loaf made it - a night to remember, and songs we'll never forget.

Getting a picture with Meat Loaf after the show? That was gravy!

MEAT LOAF SETLIST

1- Hot Patootie
2- If It Aint Broke, Break It
3- Bat Out Of Hell
4- Peace On Earth
5- Living On The Outside
6- Los Angeloser
7- You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth
8- Song Of Madness
9- Animal
10- Rock And Roll Dreams Come Through
Encore
11- I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)
12- Two Out of Three Ain't Bad
13- Paradise By The Dashboard Light
14- All Revved Up With No Place To Go

Six things I learned at...RINGO STARR & HIS ALL STAR BAND(08.07.10 - Greek Theatre, L.A.)

2010-08-09T19:48:00.001-07:00

As anyone who has seen Ringo Starr & His All Star Band live can attest, the marquee attraction may be the former Beatles drummer, but the evening's highlights undeniably come from within his band. Case in point, Saturday night at the Greek Theatre, where the crowd didn't leave their seats until Edgar Winter took the helm five songs into the set and delivered his classic "Free Ride."

Think about that for a minute... One of two living members of the most influential band in rock and roll history performs at one of the most celebrated amphitheaters in the world, and it takes a guy that probably couldn't headline a venue larger than a House of Blues to get the crowd on their feet - two songs after Ringo Starr delivers the Beatles' 1964 cover of Carl Perkins' "Honey Don't."

Therein lies the difference between seeing Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney. Macca celebrates the Beatles. Ringo celebrates what the Beatles meant. One celebrates how they got there, the other celebrates what happened from there. They both twist and shout, but to the beat of their own drums. To his credit, as was the case with the Beatles, Ringo knows that his beat is heightened by his band.

Ringo delivered six solo songs and six Beatles songs - "Honey Don't," "I Wanna Be Your Man," "Yellow Submarine," "Boys," "Act Naturally" and "With a Little Help from My Friends" - but none proved more satisfying than his All Star Band's hits. He earned his legend as a drummer not a frontman, and we saw why at the Greek - his vocals were often spoken more than sung, his delivery was a bit awkward outside his kit, and his banter seemed rehearsed and superficial.

Introducing new material, he commented that new release Y Not "is the first time I hit double digits - I want to thank the 12 of you who bought it," and he made at least two references to his band receiving more applause than him. I found it annoying, the woman behind me thought it was hysterical (more on her later). To each their own, but I like my icons to embrace their brilliance, not their shortcomings.

Ringo Starr is a living legend - as much as I may have thought his performances fell flat, he was the only reason I attended the show. I didn't go to celebrate the Beatles, I went to celebrate Ringo, his legacy, and the rock and roll that he inspired... He's Ringo Starr, dammit, and that's more than enough for me!

But I knew all of that walking in - here are six things I learned by the time I was walking out...

1. Richard Page can flex those golden pipes!
I had to look up who Richard Page was when I heard he was in the All Star Band, yet after the Mr. Mister frontman performed "Kyrie" and "Broken Wings," I told my wife that I thought he stole the show. She agreed. His vocals were sublime. So good, that despite the fact that I'd never given Mr. Mister a passing thought, now I'd go see them in a heartbeat. So good, that I now think of Richard Page's performance when I hear the song "Broken Wings," not the adorable black E*Trade baby that 'flexes his golden pipes' in one of my favorite television commercials of all time. Richard Page was that good.

2. Sometimes one hit is all you need.
Gary Wright might wish he wasn't a poster boy for one-hit wonders, but who says that's a bad thing? Especially when your one hit is "Dream Weaver." If Richard Page stole the show, Gary Wright made the show. His "Dream Weaver" was the first song to be performed after nightfall, and the song meant even more after he explained that it was inspired by Beatles guitarist George Harrison. The song is epic, the mood was magic, and the results were mesmerizing. It was a performance I will never forget. Ever.

3. Rick Derringer is more than just Sloopy Hoochie Koo.
I always had Rick Derringer pegged as a crusty classic rocker with a few big novelty songs. That hasn't necessarily changed, but it's been built upon - now I see him as a crusty classic rocker who can play the hell out of a guitar (and has a few novelty songs). I didn't know "Hang On Sloopy" was the byproduct of his teenage band The McCoys, and I also didn't know that when the song rose to No. 1, The Beatles were at No. 2 with "Yesterday" (they unseated him the following week). Did you know that Derringer played with both Alice Cooper and Steely Dan? That his first widespread exposure came opening for the Rolling Stones in 1966, and that he also opened for Led Zeppelin on their last U.S. tour? Or how about that he discovered "Weird Al" Yankovic? Respect has been earned...

4. There's enough Sloopy Hoochie Koo to go around.
Off the top of your head, how would you define 'Sloopy Hoochie Koo'? I think it's a little bit of that space cadet glow Pink Floyd sing about, a healthy aura of peace and love, and a dose of the nuttiness that makes rock and roll stars so endearing. And that described Edgar Winter a lot more than Rick Derringer. The albino rocker riled the capacity crowd up with his "Free Ride," then treated them to his multi-instrumental prowess during "Frankenstein," when he played keyboards, synthesizer, saxophone and drums. His long white hair accented a black t-shirt with a silver peace sign, and his voice cracked so high, at times I swore he was Poison guitarist C.C. Deville's father. They just don't make 'em like him anymore!

5. Playing with Ringo Starr is as cool as it seems.
Just ask Wally Palmar, the lead singer and guitarist of the Romantics. It's no secret that his band was inspired by the Beatles, which made his intro even more stirring when, coming out of "Talking in Your Sleep," he re-introduced Ringo to perform one of his favorite Fab Four songs, "I Wanna be Your Man." Had someone told Palmar twenty years ago, when he was plugging away in the Motor City, that he'd someday tour with Ringo Starr, he'd have likely laughed in their face. Fast forward to 2010 - not only is he member of the All Star Band, "What I Like About You" is also one of the set's shining moments. I just wish he had worn a red leather suit.

6. Middle-aged women are more entertaining than teenagers.
I have a pet peeve - people at concerts who are oblivious of everyone around them. In the case of the woman behind us, at least she offered entertainment value. I'd guess her to be in her late-40s, which made her thigh-high stripper boots all the more fantastic. She asked my wife and I to move so we weren't directly in front of her, and when we did, she proceeded to move directly behind us. Probably because she needed a better grip on the railing she was swinging from throughout the set. Anytime Ringo said something, she cackled a laugh that only a plastic carafe of red wine could inspire (how she never spilled it on us, I'll never know), and she was absolutely fascinated by the staging, which featured a "ring" circling a "star" behind the drum kit. She even tried a stagerush. My wife, the master of self-portraits, actually managed to get a picture of us with her in the background... A good time was had by all!

RINGO STARR & HIS ALL STAR BAND SETLIST

1- It Don't Come Easy (Ringo Starr)
2- Honey Don't (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
3- Choose Love (Ringo Starr)
4- Hang On Sloopy (Rick Derringer, The McCoys)
5- Free Ride (Edgar Winter)
6- Talking in Your Sleep (Wally Palmar, The Romantics)
7- I Wanna Be Your Man (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
8- Dream Weaver (Gary Wright)
9- Kyrie (Richard Page, Mr. Mister)
10- The Other Side of Liverpool (Ringo Starr)
11- Yellow Submarine (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
12- Frankenstein (Edgar Winter)
13- Peace Dream (Ringo Starr)
14- Back Off Boogaloo (Ringo Starr)
15- What I Like About You (Wally Palmar, The Romantics)
16- Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo (Rick Derringer)
17- Boys (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
18- Love Is Alive (Gary Wright)
19- Broken Wings (Richard Page, Mr. Mister)
20- Photograph (Ringo Starr)
21- Act Naturally (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
22- With a Little Help from My Friends (Ringo Starr, The Beatles)
23- Give Peace a Chance (Ringo Starr, Plastic Ono Band)

The New Tattoo...

2010-08-08T12:23:00.001-07:00

Mini's pawprint

by Delphia @ Dean Berton's Melrose Tattoo
7661 1/2 Melrose Ave, Hollywood, CA 90046
323.655.4345

Am I a "Bad Bad Man" for liking this?

2010-08-04T16:09:00.001-07:00

Okay, I admit it, I was a bit stymied when my wife first sent me a link to this video. (And can I just add, with no disrespect to Spanky, Buckwheat and Alfalfa, that we really need to start using the word "stymie" more in daily conversation?)

So my wife sends me this link, which means she either loves it or hates it, and I'm supposed to guess which it is before I respond - or, as any married guy will attest, the results can be catastrophic...

I clicked play and let out a legitimate LOL at little Violent JJ - the son of Insane Clown Posse's Violent J - in the limo with his wrestling belt/serving platter. (How great would it be if Insane Clown Posse served deviled eggs off that backstage?) Then I felt bad about laughing, because I realized most Juggalos might not get the joke.

Then I started to feel even worse because I thought, "Wait, what if it isn't a joke?" Then I was just mortified, realizing that this video will inspire packs of Juggalo kids in schools across the country to think it's okay to fly off the arts and crafts table and drop an elbow onto their nemesis that's hogging the bucket of paste/lunch.

And, despite the fact that I spent enough time backstage at the ICP show in Anaheim to know that Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope aren't the half-crazed, serial killing clowns they may appear to be onstage (and to the general public), I still couldn't help but wonder what effect being dubbed "Violent JJ" can have on a Posse peewee who's pummeling semi-professional wrestlers while most kids his age are trying to hit padded baseballs of a tee.

Then he introduces his sister Ruby, lets out a "whoot whoot," and I nearly suffocated I was laughing so hard.

This isn't so bad, it's family values - Juggalo family values, maybe, but we've got to start somewhere!

So, they say it's my birthday...

2010-08-03T14:27:00.000-07:00

PHOTO: Me, 26 years ago today, on my 13th birthday...

As an adult, I've never really been one to celebrate my birthday. Not because of all the typical 'another year older' cliches, but because, well, just because...

Because, I think, the older you get, the less an actual birthday really starts to mean. Don't get me wrong - I'm not old. Physically, I'm in better shape than I was a decade ago and, from what I can see, I'm in better shape than at least half the guys I've got a decade-plus on.

Mentally, I know more now than I've ever known before, and I learn more every day. And, I'm sharper now than I've ever been before. Isn't that the point?

I look at life differently now than I did a decade or two ago, and that's a good thing.

When I moved to Los Angeles nine years ago, as corny as it sounds, I was living the dream, the editor of a big music magazine with an expense account that never ended. Today, I'd rather drive home sober and live to enjoy my friends another day.

Our dreams are different as we grow older.

When I moved to Los Angeles nine years ago, I was living in the present, still in my twenties, my future ahead of me. Today, I dream of having a son or daughter to add to a family that, right now, is my wife and I in a house that is too big for just the two of us.

Today the future is no longer ahead of me, it's something that I am in the midst of creating.

We lost our dog to a devastating spine disease less than a week ago. Two years ago, I awoke on my birthday to the tragic news that dear friends of ours had lost their father and husband to a heart attack.

Birthdays are a time to celebrate life, but that gets harder when they are surrounded by death.

Meanwhile, like many of my friends, I'm looking for full-time work - and it is disheartening, to say the least. Disheartening because, in an oppressive job market, most resumes we submit don't even get a response, no matter how long we spend on a cover letter.

Most of the people I do hear back from tell me that I'm overqualified for the jobs I'm applying for, but if former VPs ten years my senior are willing to take 50-percent pay cuts to take a job that I should be considered for, how am I wrong to apply for jobs that might be considered below my pay scale and qualifications?

When your focus is on planning a family and providing stability for your wife, is it wrong to consider job security and benefits ahead of the perpetual headaches of trying to establish your own company? The dream changes as we get older - that doesn't mean we have to forget it, but it does mean that we have to be mature enough to adapt.

Yes, today is my birthday, but it's not my birthday that I am celebrating. Today I am celebrating life, my birthday is just the excuse.

Today I am celebrating my family. Today I am celebrating my friends. Today I am not mourning the death of Dave Lander and the passing of my beloved Mini, I am celebrating the fact that I have been blessed to have them both in my life.

I met Morgan and Mercedes Lander 15 years ago, when they were bright-eyed teenagers on the cusp of releasing their first album with their band Kittie. I had more in common with their parents, than I had in common with them.

Today, Morgan and Mercedes inspire me.

Less than a month after the death of their father, they were at our wedding, sitting with their mother and celebrating life. And whenever we see them, they talk about their dad with smiles on their face, surging forward and pressing on, because they know that's what he would want.

And if they can, so can I.

There is a hidden joy in suffering the pain of loss that is all too easy to forget - yes, we ache, but we never lose the memories we cherish. If we never feel the hurt, it means we never felt the joy.

Is it easy? No, but that's life. And what is a life without joy?

So today, I am not celebrating my birthday, I am celebrating the fact that our birthday commemorates the day we were born, and there is no bigger celebration of life, than the joy of birth.

I said the same thing a year ago on this day, but today I really believe it - this year will be better than last year.

Celebrate life, it's the only one we get!

xo

Mini's final day... We say goodbye

2010-07-30T16:08:00.001-07:00

We said our final goodbyes to our angel Mini yesterday afternoon, knowing all too well that while she's left us in body, she'll be with us forever in spirit.

But that doesn't make it any easier.

It was the most harrowing day of my life, and the culmination of what was easily the rockiest emotional roller coaster of a week I've ever endured. What makes this passage even harder to write is that the focus isn't on the joy and happiness that Mini brought so many people in her life, but it's about her final hours with us, what they entailed, and the unfortunate ease of the hard decision we made.

Yet, as sad as the outcome was, the circumstances couldn't have blessed us with a more beautiful and perfect afternoon.

That's just how twisted the past week has been.

On Thursday evening, July 22, Mini had emergency surgery on her spine that we were told would have a 50-percent chance of reversing hind leg paralysis suffered earlier that afternoon (details here). Heading into surgery, Mini was "deep pain negative" in her right hind leg (the worst stage of paralysis - you could cut off her toe and she wouldn't feel a thing). The fact that she still had pain sensory in her left hind leg, despite its paralysis, was perceived as a good indicator that regained mobility would be possible.

She seemed to be recovering rather quickly from the surgery and anesthesia, another good sign that her spirit and will were intact. We brought her home Saturday afternoon, July 24, feeling every bit as optimistic as we were nervous of what the days ahead would bring.

She ate Chinese food with us Saturday night (the chicken portion of chicken and broccoli), and was quite the cuddle monster on the couch, watching whatever disposable television was on as we studied a roomful of recovery aids, prepared for everything the coming weeks might bring... A playpen to limit her attempts to move and alleviate stress on her recovering spine, a tempurpedic cushion for the playpen - because she deserves nothing but the best to rest her weary body on - and as incontinence was a given, we had a bulk of wee wee pads, doggie diapers, canine baby wipes, and every cleaning supply imaginable for impending accidents.

Mini was visually happy to be home and surrounded by her people Saturday, and seemed more content soaking in the attention than sleeping. Sunday proved her day of rest, but an anxious day for us, as it provided my learning curve in exercising her bladder.

Monday was great - Mini was wagging her tail, smiling, and sitting up in her bed in my office, watching me intently as I juggled her care with my ongoing job search and incoming contract and freelance work. I talked to her throughout the day, and she listened, as has been the case every day for the past nine years. Given that I have worked from home all but one of those years, she and I have developed an obvious co-dependence, and that only intensified with the care I'd been administering to that point.

I'd take her outside every few hours to relieve her bladder, and she'd wag her tail - she always loved the sun just as much as I did. Every trip outside ended with physical therapy on her back legs. We had a routine, and it worked for us both. There was no need for diapers, no need need for cleaning aids, and when Rika came home from work and was greeted by Mini's smiling face and wagging tail, there was nothing but optimism.

Our hearts glowed with hope.

My only concern was that she hadn't eaten since Saturday night's chicken, and I called the hospital Tuesday morning to express my concerns. The doctor I spoke with was encouraged by Mini's spirit and the ease and speed at which I'd taken to her care, and said she truly didn't see her lack of an appetite as a reason for immediate concern. She recommended waiting until her first week of medication ran its course before letting panic set in. She also lowered Mini's morning dose of pain reliever, suggesting that by easing the medication we might relieve her stomach and boost her appetite.

Mini was less energetic Tuesday, but I attributed that to her lack of eating. She tried to sit up a few times, but to little avail, and her spirit weakened noticeably over the next 24 hours. I happened to receive a call from her regular veterinarian on Wednesday afternoon, who was checking in for the first time since the surgery. We talked at great length, and while she was encouraged by Monday's tail wagging, she couldn't hide her worry that Mini wasn't eating. She offered me a few suggestions of things to feed her over the next 24 hours - baby food, apple sauce, vanilla Ensure and light vanilla ice cream - and, Thursday being her day off, we agreed to touch base again on Friday morning to monitor our progress.

Mini ate half a jar of baby food that night, but we needed to hold her head up to help her lick the spoon. As I detailed here early Thursday morning, my escalating concern over Mini's weakened condition - both physically and mentally - led me back to the hospital late Wednesday night, where they expected to provide her with intravenous nutrients, monitor her overnight, touch base with me in the morning, and have me bring her home Thursday afternoon.

Unfortunately, Thursday morning's phone call changed everything.

It began, "I wish I had better news...", and my heart shattered as the surgeon proceeded to explain Mini's condition. I wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn't - I needed to be strong, because I needed to call my wife with the news, and then one of our best friends, who I rescued Mini with nine years ago. I needed to be strong for them, just like the three of us needed to be strong for Mini - and make the hard decision that she couldn't make on her own.

The surgeon explained how shocked he was by Mini's condition when he saw her that morning, and how there was no way that a lack of eating could take such a devastating toll on her body, especially considering how well she was doing as recently as Monday afternoon.

He went on to explain, in great detail, how a number of indicators, on their own, might not be cause for great concern, but together they led to a catastrophic conclusion.

He started with the fact that there was no disc material to be found in Mini's spine during the operation, and that she lost deep pain sensation in her second leg post-operation. On their own those weren't great signs, but they also weren't dire. But when you couple them with the devastating turn her body took between Tuesday and Wednesday, to the point where she felt like a boneless bag of sand when I brought her to the hospital early Thursday morning, the signs all pointed to a horrific disease...

Myelomalacia.

The word sounds bad, because it is bad. Very bad. Where most canine back problems start and end with a single disc, and can be controlled and/or repaired if treated quickly, in the extremely rare cases of myelomalacia (the doctor said he sees one, maybe two cases a year), the disc proves to be the launching pad for an irreversible, untreatable, and fatal condition.

In Mini's case, a concussive disc began the chain of events Thursday, when her hind legs were paralyzed. From there, myelomalacia began its corrosive path through her back, destroying her spine as it spread. While we didn't know it at the time, its ravaging effects began to show Tuesday, and rapidly led to Wednesday's weakened state. The further through the spine the disease spread, the worse Mini would get, until she ultimately died of respiratory failure.

Based on the speed at which she was deteriorating, the doctor urged us to get to the hospital as soon as we could, as it would likely be the last chance we would have to see her. He presented me with two viable options - euthanasia, and waiting 24 hours, just in case there was an unexpected change of condition. On the positive side (if there could be one), he did assure me that, since the condition literally destroys the spine and kills the nerves, Mini was feeling no pain, and if we chose to wait, she would not be suffering.

He said that if it was his dog, he'd probably wait the 24 hours - which is what I told him we'd likely decide. I got off the phone with the doctor and immediately called Rika and Erika.

Talk about horrific phone calls.

Little more than an hour later, we were all at the hospital, where we were put in a room with Mini, who was carried to us bundled in a blanket and in a small sherpa bed.

While her body didn't seem significantly different than when I brought her to the hospital 12 hours earlier, her spirit seemed drained and her eyes were haunting, a third eyelid forming within each. The scientific term for those inner eyelids is nictitating membrane, and in dogs it is a sign of failing health.

Mini was receptive to our presence, but that offered us little consolation. It was unspoken at the time, but within seconds of seeing her, we all knew what needed to be done.

Holding Mini's head in my hand, petting her, and looking as deep into her soul as my tear-filled eyes would allow, I said what everyone was thinking - I didn't want Mini dying alone in a hospital in the middle of the night, and I wanted to hold her as she left us, letting her leave this world surrounded by the same love that she brought to it.

Rika and Erika agreed, as did the doctor, who assured us that given the love in the room and the peace we so visibly brought Mini, it would be the greatest gift we could ever give her. He also assured us that the process is painless, and we could be with her throughout. He had a scheduled surgery, and said he'd leave us alone with her until he returned, at which point we could make our decision.

The moment he left the room, we all agreed to one of the easiest decisions we hoped we'd never have to make.

We spent the next 90 minutes alone with our baby. There were a lot of tears, but it was absolutely beautiful, and as perfect as such a sad situation could be. I cried more in that room than I've ever cried in my life, but there was never even a split second where any of us doubted that we were doing the right thing.

We took turns holding Mini in our arms, and there was hardly a moment that I stopped cradling her head, petting her face, and getting lost in her adoring gaze. Rika and Erika did the same. We kissed her so many times, I can still taste and feel her fur. And I never stopped talking to her, telling her that she didn't have to fight anymore, and she didn't have to be afraid. I told her to look to the light and find my grandfather, who would be waiting for her with a bowl of meatballs. And I told her about all of the other people she'd meet in heaven that would be part of her new family.

And I told her that anytime she wanted, she could sleep in our beds and sit on our couches, because in our hearts, those are places that she is always going to be. In the midst of all that talking, Mini touched my hand with her paw - like she often did at night, sleeping in our bed - and as I always did, I took hold of it...

I didn't let go until five minutes after the doctor - his eyes red and swollen just like ours - lifted his stethoscope from her tiny chest and said those words that we will never forget...

She's gone.

MINI: Forever in our HeartsApril 2001 - July 29, 2010

2010-07-29T21:52:00.000-07:00

Mini spread smiles and joy wherever she went, and she left this life just as she lived it - with her people, and surrounded by love.

She was our angel long before she earned her eternal wings.

We love you, baby!

xo

Paul, Rika and Erika

Skinny Mini is back in the hospital...

2010-07-29T03:16:00.000-07:00

On Monday, I said that I wasn't panicking over the fact that Mini hadn't been eating.

On Tuesday, I panicked and called the hospital where the surgery was done. The doctor that returned my call said I shouldn't be worried about the seven days sans food, and to wait until her first week of medication ran its course before getting overly concerned.

Earlier today (Wednesday - I haven't slept yet), Mini's regular vet called to see how she was doing. When I told her that I was worried that she wasn't eating, despite the fact that the hospital told me not to worry, she told me that she, too, was worried.

In fact, she couldn't stress enough how important it was that we get food into her as soon as possible.

The extent of Mini's nutrients have come from honey, which I give her after her pills. Knowing that, my vet said to try giving her sweet foods that can are easy to digest and offer ample calories - apple sauce, baby food, vanilla Ensure, or light vanilla ice cream. We tried the baby food first, and over the course of about an hour tonight, Mini ate a half a small jar of Gerber chicken and vegetable.

That's my baby!

The problem is, she's so weak and anemic at this point, we had to hold her head upright to even feed her - she can't support any of her own weight, collapses like a ragdoll if you don't support her, and doesn't even have the energy to bark when someone is at the door.

I took her outside shortly after 1am tonight to express her bladder, and was absolutely panic-stricken over how limp her body had become. I called the hospital, and they recommended I bring her in as soon as possible. I was at the hospital fifteen minutes later, where both the tech and the senior doctor were flabbergasted by Mini's emaciated condition.

While I am the first person to call out bad customer service (it drives me insane!), tonight was a rare, exemplary case of the opposite. The attending doctor not only listened to everything I had to say (to my credit, I go out of my way to stay level-headed in these situations), but she was also sympathetic, oozed understanding, and never attempted to either justify the other doctor's call, or even insinuate that I might have misunderstood her directions.

And, with minimal effort on my part, she dropped the charges for tonight's hospitalization by more than 80-percent, and told me that I didn't have to pay the estimate until I spoke with the owner in the morning. More than anything, it was the pacifying manner in which she did it that made me feel completely at ease.

I was never made to defend myself. She not once tried to defend her colleague (not that her colleague needed defending - medicine is an inexact science, and she made the best assessment she could, given the information at the time). Despite Mini's condition, I left her in their care feeling nothing but warmth.

In the meantime, they're going to run blood tests on Mini, then pump her full of electrolytes and get some nutrients into her. I'll be getting a call in the morning, and will hopefully be picking her up in the afternoon, once they've had a chance to kickstart her food intake.

Baby steps... Baby food... My poor baby!

There's a method to my Mini-information

2010-07-27T16:57:00.001-07:00

"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." ~Anaïs Nin

I read this quote for the first time today, and its timing couldn't have been better.

Last Thursday night, our dog Mini had to have emergency surgery on her spine. When the surgeon informed us that she'd only have a 50-percent chance of walking again, my initial reaction was one of fear, followed by sorrow, and then rear-ended by truckload of helplessness. I'm only human, and my head automatically swayed to the worst case scenario...

But just as quickly, an instinct took over. It was an instinct of preservation, and a level-headed realization that I wasn't about to let my baby go without a fight. And I started asking the surgeon every question that I could. Every question... Lest you think a Paul Gargano line of questioning starts and stops with fluffy commentary about a new album from a band whose record label paid my salary with full-page ads, think again - I was an editor for the Associated Press long before I was waxing poetic at the helm of Metal Edge.

I'm inquisitive by nature, and painstakingly thorough when I'm looking for information. To the point where I almost start to feel bad for the people on the receiving end of my inquests... but why should I? If you're charging me a base of $6000 to operate on my dog's spine, aren't I entitled to have every question answered to my satisfaction? To the surgeon's credit, he went out of his way to make sure I was completely clear with everything - and in a situation like Mini's, that was all I could ask for.

My goal was to not only understood everything that Mini was going through, but also how she got there, where she was heading, and what I could do to best prepare for her future. The surgeon gave her a 50/50 chance of walking again, and am doing everything in my power to tip that balance to her favor.

But please don't get the impression that I think I'm special because of how much I love my dog, or the way I handle her surgery and recovery. I don't believe my dog's story is any sadder than similar stories that happen to countless other pets on a daily basis. And I don't believe that what I'm doing is anything less than what so many of my friends, as well as other pet owners, would do for their animals, if the tables were turned.

And because the tables are constantly turned, I wanted to write about our experience - I don't think I'm special, I just think I'm different.

And I'd like to think that someone might find my perspective helpful.

I wanted to document the knowledge I've gained, express the emotions that we're battling, and share the ups and downs of Mini's recovery. Yes, there is a part of me that writes for the therapy, but there is a bigger part of me that does it because I feel like it is my responsibility to say what others are often not able to say.

Do I cross the line sometimes, maybe injecting my humor or sarcasm in a place where another might find it offsetting? Maybe. But that's who I am, and I don't think any of us should ever be afraid to let our guard down. The people that are taking the time to read are doing so because they care - and because they care enough to read, I care enough to try and be as honest as possible.

I want people to know exactly what we're going through with Mini, because I want them to know that if they are ever faced with a similar situation, they can go into it armed with knowledge, and backed by knowing that they are not alone.

Will reading about Mini's lack of bladder control make some people uncomfortable? Perhaps. But that's a small price to pay for the possibility of having someone, someday, research their dog's condition on the internet and stumble upon my collective writings. I may not be able to cure their dog, but perhaps I can help them find a little bit of clarity throughout the muddied process.

If a single person makes the decision to work their dog through its recovery, rather than giving up because they can't handle the pressure of inconvenience, then my offerings here are not in vain.

That is worth more than any paycheck, and that is why I write - because I feel an inclination and obligation to say things that others may not be able to say... With the hope, of course, that they are things that others may also want to read.

Mini sports her sutures like fine couture

2010-07-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

Lest people forget my daze as a professional photographer, that would be Mini's over-the-shoulder, 'bringing sexy back' pose. Yep, she even shaved for the photo shoot! If there was a Studio 54 for dogs, she'd be the queen of the velvet rope, popping more pills than Paula Abdul (allegedly), and weighing less than either of the Olsen twins.

Aside from some poultry hand-picked from Chinese chicken & broccoli delivery Saturday night (yes, she eats off chopsticks), Mini hasn't eaten a thing since Thursday's surgery. That said, she's washing her medication down with honey, and is also taking in more water than the Titanic, so I'm not overly concerned just yet.

As you might imagine, drinking all that water does wonders for a dog with no bladder control, but we're making progress - I've finally, after two days, figured out how to effortlessly (for both of us) help her relieve her bladder. How proud was I when I figured it out? So proud, I woke Rika up at 4:30 this morning and made her come into the driveway and look at the puddle of piddle.

I'll refrain from posting a picture, but you know I gave it more than a passing thought...

So while another person might be worried if the upstairs neighbor in their duplex looked out the window and saw them in the driveway holding their 10-pound dog's backside in the air, wiping her lady parts with baby wipes after a manually-induced bathroom break, well, I've never claimed to be like other people.

A friend of mine emailed me yesterday and said, "if you ever had any concerns about being a parent, clearly you're ready." I never honestly had a doubt, but it is good to know that we can rise to the occasion.

In a lot of ways, Mini is like having a baby.

She's used to sleeping in our bed, but that's obviously not an option right now - not only am I known to throw a punch or two in my sleep (not good for the sutures), but she's also got that bladder issue to contend with. So we got her a playpen that we stationed right next to my side of the bed - Mini lies in bed until I'm done reading at night, then I move her to her to her snazzy, waterproof digs.

And like a child that has nightmares, as soon as her whimpering wakes us up, she's back in our bed until she calms down, then back to the playpen. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I never claimed she wasn't spoiled. Or soiled, as the case may be.

Spoiled, soiled, and dining on a steady diet of take out... Mini has always been the epitome of rock and roll - even before she got the heavy metal in her back.

Mini is home... and chillin' like Bob Dylan

2010-07-25T18:49:00.000-07:00

Mini is one tired little wiener dog!

Tired, and maybe just a little doped up. We brought her home from the hospital yesterday, less than 48 hours after rushing her in Thursday night for what would end up being an emergency surgery on her spine.

The surgeon told us that it could be weeks before we not only start to see any sign of improvement, but even get a real indication of whether or not she'll ever be able to walk again. In the meantime, the hardest part - for us, at least - is not getting ahead of ourselves, and just taking things one day at a time.

Mini doesn't know what happened, let alone what she's going through. All she knows is the frustration of immobility. With her hind legs being paralyzed, she now has no bottom end to balance with when she's sitting. She now has no leverage when she just wants to shift her position. If she's lying down, she can't get into an upright position without a struggle. And she can't stand up at all.

But she'll adapt, that's what dogs do. They don't feel sorry for themselves, they just do what needs to be done.

What we need to do, is start with the basics and work from there...

It's not hard to forget what Mini's been through - her back is shaved, and she's got 13 staples binding a 4" incision over the center of her spine. She needs three pills twice a day - one antibiotic, and three pain relievers - has no control over her bladder, and no mobility at all in her hind legs.

What is hard, is remembering that even the smallest progress can be a huge leap in her recovery, and those baby steps are what we need to strive for.

For now, just seeing her sleeping and stress free, restful and calm, and so happy to just snuggle up against us on the couch, those are all the baby steps that we need.

Baby steps...

What happened to Mini? The events that led to spinal surgery...

2010-07-24T10:05:00.001-07:00

That's a picture of Mini, taken yesterday afternoon.

The IV in her leg is where she gets her hydromorphone drip to control the pain of Thursday night's emergency spinal surgery. So if she looks a little glassy-eyed in the picture, well, that might explain why - according to the surgeon, the drug is a notch stronger than morphine.

As bad as that may sound, I've just been told that we'll be bringing her home from the hospital today. A couple dozen people have asked what's happened, so I thought I'd try and offer an explanation here - hopefully we can track her progress over the coming weeks, as well.

Essentially, the next six weeks will determine if Mini can ever use her back legs again. How did it happen? We're not really sure, and neither are the doctors...

Two years ago, a set of unrelated x-rays indicated what our vet at the time referred to as early onset arthritis, as well as a calcium deposit forming in the mid-section of Mini's spine. Back problems are common in daschunds and corgis, and being a daschund/corgi mix, it wasn't necessarily a cause for panic. We did, however, take precautionary measures, buying a second set of dog steps for our house - giving us one for the couches in our living room, and another for the bed in our bedroom.

Last Thanksgiving, she was experiencing back pain. We knew because she would wince and/or give out a yelp if someone approached her suddenly (not necessarily touching her), was guarded when anyone would try and pet her (especially around the back, often yelping), slow moving around the house, and not really excited about walks. The vet prescribed a steroid treatment, as well as a mild pain reliever to help ease the recovery.

Much like a human, the best remedy for a back is rest - the anti-inflammatory agents in the steroid, as well as the pain reliever and close supervision, were intended to provide just that. She recovered after about a week, and we were told it was no doubt related to the calcium deposit and/or the arthritis. While we should be aware that it could happen again as she gets older (she turned nine in April, so was about eight-and-a-half at the time), we were told it wasn't something that required excessive concern.

About six weeks ago, Mini started favoring her back again. We had since transitioned her to a new vet, who at the time had just finished treating her for an aural hematoma (which is why one ear stands up, the other now flops). She recommended the same course of action as November's incident - 5 mg of Prednisone (steroid) twice a day, as well as Tramadol for pain relief. After two weeks of treatment, as we had begun to ween her off the Prednisone, we were growing concerned because she wasn't showing any signs of improvement. The doctor recommended going back to twice a day with the steroid.

After a week of this, I started to notice that Mini was favoring her right hind leg (left hind leg, if you were facing her). As her doctor had previously noted that we shouldn't be overly concerned as long as there wasn't an indication of nerve damage, this gave me pause - if her leg wasn't working, perhaps the nerves were starting to show wear. I brought her in for x-rays this past Tuesday (7/20).

The results indicated two spaces between her vertebrae that appeared smaller than the rest, but there were no signs of tumors or any other indications that this wasn't something we might be able to treat with a prescribed anti-inflammatory and continued pain relief over the short and long term. A new course of medication was prescribed, and we were on our way, encouraged that surgery would not appear to be a necessity.

That was Tuesday afternoon. Wednesday, she not only was wagging her tail for the first time in weeks, but also followed me outside and wanted to socialize with a few dogs that were walking by our house. She tired quickly and wanted to go back inside, but we were excited by the show of progress.

Thursday, she spent the first half of the day under the bed in our master bedroom, her safe haven as of late. I took her out at about 1:30 to administer the first set of daily meds, and while she hates the meds, she stayed with me in my office after that. She was whining a little, but nothing out of the ordinary after taking those wretched-tasting pills. She was holding her head up, as if craning to look at something, but I assumed that was because of either the pills, or just a comfortable position given her back issues. After about a half hour, she settled down and was just lying in her bed.

I got on a conference call at about 4:15, and since I tend to pace on longer calls, I started walking around the house so that I wouldn't disturb Mini in my office. At about 4:45, I noticed her, in a seated position, pulling herself out of my office and into our foyer so that she could be with me. It was almost as if she was scooting her butt (like dogs do to scratch that itch), only she was "walking" with her front legs, and her hind legs weren't doing anything.

I sat on the floor with her and pet her for a bit, and she was smiling, showing absolutely no signs of pain. I picked up her backside to see if she could support herself, and it fell like dead weight. I made several attempts to get her to stand on all fours, but her hind legs continued to slump into a seated position. I excused myself from the conference call and phoned Mini's vet immediately. Her regular doctor was out, but another vet - who was familiar with her situation as he consulted on Tuesday's x-rays - called me back at 5:45 and strongly urged us to immediately take her to a spine surgeon.

When dealing with paralysis, as was the case here, the chance of recovery drops dramatically after the first 24 hours, and waiting even overnight could make all the difference in the world. I called the surgeon, and we were at the hospital by 6:45.

The doctor we met with gave us a 75-percent chance of recovery if we had immediate surgery to decompress the pressure in her spine. We agreed to the surgery, and were then introduced to the surgeon, who actually offered a less-optimistic 50/50 chances of recovered mobility. Needless to say, we still agreed to the surgery.

We left Mini in the hospital's care shortly after 9pm, and received a call around 11pm, letting us know that her blood panels cleared her for anesthesia, and a myelogram - where they inject dye into the spine to see where the actual obstruction is - confirmed that the blockage was in the same area as indicated by the x-rays, and they would immediately proceed with the surgery.

A little before 1:30 am, I received a call from the surgeon, telling me that they had completed the surgery, but with "strange" results. Typically, an invasive spinal surgery such as Mini's - as necessitated by the x-rays - would result in the finding of calcified disc matter that results in the decreased space between the vertebrae. By removing that disc matter, the nerve damage can often be corrected. But in this instance, when the surgeon cut through the bone surrounding Mini's spine, he found no disc matter whatsoever. Instead, her spine was swollen, exposed, and rubbing directly against the bone - hence the irritation and eventual paralysis. The surgeon called it a "Type 3 Disc Protrusion," and something that he doesn't see very often.

While he admitted that he would feel better had he physically been able to remove disc matter - and what would have been the obvious cause of the problem - in this case, by removing the bone surrounding the spine (and the cause of irritation), he felt hopeful that similar results were possible. Post-surgery, he estimated that Mini's chances of walking again remained at 50-percent.

He did say that she was showing tremendous recovery from the anesthesia and surgery, and was lifting her head and trying to look around a lot sooner than many larger dogs would be in a similar situation. We agreed to talk again the next morning and set up a time to visit her, after we all (including Mini) had a chance to rest.

As can be expected, a morphine drip can have quite the impact on an eleven pound dog, and she was a loopy little patient when we saw her for the first time less than 12 hours after her surgery. That said, she recognized us all, and even started to whine when I left the room to get her some water. We sat with her for an hour, a lot of which was spent with the surgeon, and she spent most of that time dazed and content, resting in my hands.

The surgeon said he would remove the IV that night, transition her to pills, and was confident we could take her home the next day.

I promised Mini that, given her medicated state and starry-eyed stare, I'd play her one of my favorite Coachella DJ mixes when we got her home Saturday... Ironically, Fatboy Slim was on the radio when we got in the car to leave the hospital moments later.

Today's plan? We are heading out to buy a playpen - that way she can be with us at all times, but won't be able to move more than necessary - then we pick her up this afternoon, take her home, and begin the slow and hopeful road to recovery...

VIDEO: Gogol Bordello "Pala Tute" Zappa reincarnate?

2010-07-21T12:04:00.001-07:00

Maybe Frank Zappa didn't die, he just developed an accent...

Driven from his Ukraine home in the fallout of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, Gogol Bordello frontman Eugene Hutz bounced between Poland, Italy, Hungary and Austria before landing on New York City's lower east side in 1993. That last stop must have been his breaking point. Pushing musical and visual flamboyance to twisted extremes, Gogol are as nomadic sonically as they are culturally, swirling their bizarre gypsy fare and punk rock credo into a rag-tag elixir that tickles the senses like a musical mustache ride.

Buckle up, beatniks and freakniks, because Bordello are about to kick off a co-headlining summer tour with whacked-out, alt-rock icons Primus that is sure to feature all the syncopated madness of the above video, and then some. And then some more.

The two-week tour starts July 29 in Burlington, VT, wraps August 14 in San Francisco, and is highlighted by an August 7 appearance at Lollapolooza [complete itinerary]. Sadly, there is no date in So-Cal.

Gogol Bordello's new album Trans-Continental Hustle is out now [listen here].

Gogol Bordello Official Website

BRET MICHAELS: 'Custom Built' for a good time (and fun for all ages)

2010-07-20T13:19:00.000-07:00

I can't decide whether the above teaser for last night's VH1 Do Something! Awards (I didn't watch them - I was doing something) is funny or wrong...

Can something so funny, be wrong when it's so right?

Either way, you've gotta love Poison frontman Bret Michaels - he gets the joke, and isn't afraid to be part of the punchline.

Michaels' new solo release Custom Built isn't funny, but it's a lot of fun - and I'm not just saying that because Jason Miller gives the Rock of Love theme song a techno remix on the album [listen to song clips here]. Sure, I'm a little creeped out by the duet with Miley Cyrus (remember that she doesn't turn 18 until November when you listen to the lyrics - altogether now, "she's only seventeen..."), but it still works really well. There are more than a few Poison/Bon Jovi-inspired moments, as well as a healthy dose of country fashion that culminates with a star-studded, fiddle-flavored remake of "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" featuring Brad Arnold of 3 Doors Down, Chris Cagle and Mark Wills. The album's not reinventing the wheel, but when did Bret ever lay claim to such lofty aspirations? He does a commendable job reinventing Sublime's "What I Got" as the album's lead single, and that just about says it all - you'll find everything Bret's got on Custom Built, and the results promise nothin' but a good time... Whether you're young and sexy, old and creepy, or somewhere in between.

Bret Michaels Official Website