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

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!

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...

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"

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.)

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"

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...

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

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"

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?

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'

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!

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'

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)

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'

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"

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

(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

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

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...

Nothin' but a good time!!!