See, the thing is – and here comes my inner nerd spilling all over the place – I’m a bit starstruck over these guys. Their tunes are so powerful and mesmerizing, their performances so electric, I became an instant fan upon seeing them two years ago, at the SoCo Music Experience, downtown San Diego. I have seen them several times since and I just keep liking them better and better. The Burning of Rome is my NFB (New Favorite Band) and to be permitted to sit in their rehearsal studio for a semi-private jam session was, well, if I were a total, unabashed gushing rock-nerd, would say it was, “A dream come true.”

Instead I will maintain my journalistic composure and report that the  performance was a visually and aurally pleasing experience: aurally speaking, it was unlike most concerts, where the band faces the crowd and blasts their music at you. Instead, the performers were all around us, saturating us with music rather than bludgeoning.

And visually, well, to be so close – to be able to watch every nuance of every performer; to observe the muscles on their necks loosen and tighten, the beads of sweat form and drop, the complex relationship between finger and keyboard, finger and fret, and mostly, to watch the smiles that span their faces as they do the thing they love to do best, then watch those smiles turn to tight-lipped grimaces when the music became dark, and foreboding, as TBoR’s music often does – there is no substitute for this type of musical experience. (more…)

When Gary Numan dominated the radio waves in the early 80′s, people like Trent Reznor and Marilyn Manson were out there listening. Then they grew up and created industrial music.
“They’ve taken what I did and moved it light years forward,” said Numan during a phone conversation from London. “I’m just grateful to still be around to do something about that. I listen to what they’re doing and hopefully that will fire me off. And we move forward again.”
So we do. Gary Numan has just released a new CD, and it sounds conspicuously as though this forefather of industrial music has been inspired by the music of his creative children.

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In the movie High Fidelity, there is a conspicuous scene where the protagonist — the owner of a maverick, independent record store — whispers into the ear of an employee, “I am now going to sell five copies of The Three EPs by The Beta Band.”
With that, proprietor Rob Gordon (John Cusack), inserts the Beta Band disc into the player, folds his arms, and gazes out at the roomful of customers as they react to the soothing downfall of “Dry the Rain,” filling up the store.
The customers – probably without realizing – all begin to bob their heads to the music. Smiles abound. A young woman grooves as she moves to the next record bin. And finally – as predicted – a guy in his mid twenties looks up at Cusack, who is standing godlike behind the counter, and asks, “Who is this?”
When Cusack’s character replies, “It’s The Beta Band,” proudly, and with a knowing smirk – a million music nerds made a mental note: “Must download Beta Band.”

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“We ride with kings on mighty steeds Across the Devil’s plain.”
Tenacious D

Ladies and Gentlemen, in this corner weighing 637 pounds, wearing black trunks, is Tenacious D. — the self-appointed, “Greatest Band on Earth.” Tenacious D. rocks as hard as Wendy O’ Williams’ ass-banging Korn.

Only the greatest band on Earth would have the nutsacks to write the greatest song in the world. Sadly, they forgot how to play the greatest song in the world, so they had to write “Tribute” – the only song great enough to be a tribute to the greatest song in the world – which itself was great:

This is not The Greatest Song in the World. No. This is just a tribute.
Couldn’t remember the Greatest Song in the World, no, no.
This is a tribute, oh, to The Greatest Song in the World . . .
All right! It was the best muthafuckin’ song.

One might ask how it is possible that a couple of overweight slobs (Jack Black and Kyle Gass) with a couple of acoustic guitars, and a couple of teenage fuck-jokes, could be the greatest rock band on Earth?

They sold their souls to Satan of course.

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“I wanna rock with punks because I love punk rock
I wanna rock with the heads because I love hip hop
I wanna rock my beats all around the block
If I was in Baghdad then I would rock Iraq.”

From “We Don’t Stop” by Michael Franti and Spearhead

So go the lyrics on the second track of Spearhead’s most recent release, Everyone Deserves Music. It was, as it turned out, to be more a premonition than lyric because this past June – about a year after Everyone Deserves Music was released – singer songwriter Michael Franti did go to Iraq and apparently he rocked it quite well.
“I didn’t go there with the U.S.O,” Franti told me over the phone. “I didn’t go there with any non-governmental organizations. I went as a tourist and a musician and played my guitar. I played in hospitals for kids who had their limbs blown off. I played at people’s homes who invited me in off the street. I played for off-duty soldiers in their bar. I played for on-duty soldiers on the street who just wanted to hear a song for a moment . . . Sometimes I’d just strum down the road and [an Iraqi] would say, ‘Come into our house.’ Then they would show me where they hid during the bombings and I would play my music for them.”
“Everyone deserves music, sweet music/Even your worst enemies, Lord, they deserve music.”
“That song is about compassion,” said Franti. “It’s about the fact that music is a healing power in the world. . . And in Iraq, I found that to be really true; that when you pick up your guitar and start singing, it doesn’t matter who is in front of you. They’re willing to put down their rifle for five minutes and listen.”
“So I’ll pray for them and I’ll play for them because everyone deserves music, sweet music.”

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When you observe the liner photo of Al “Alien” Jourgenson on Cocked and Loaded (the new CD from Revolting Cocks) the first word that comes to your mind is not “workaholic.” Rather, you are inclined to think of such terms as “serial murderer” or perhaps “alley-skulking-biker-rapist” what with his wiry thick black hair, double-wide snout, oversized bug-eye sunglasses, thinly carved moustache, and three tightly wound spines of black hair pointing downward from his chin like the goat of Lucifer.
But in the last 4 years since he stopped shooting heroin, Jourgenson has founded and operated his own record company and cut 5 albums from that label (13th Planet Records), including two new releases from his own bands, Ministry and Revolting Cocks.
The Ministry album, called Rio Grand Blood, is out-fucking-rageous. I’ve always been a moderate fan of Ministry but this record is a beautiful abomination. It’s as deconstructionist as ever, as relevant as ever, has a higher sense of contempt for the state of the world as ever and just plain rocks. As for the accompanying Revolting Cocks’ disc, Cocked and Loaded, all I have to say is, “Where you been all my life bitches?” I played this disc for 3 days straight. I’m listening to it now. My brain is swimming in its hardcore disease.

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The process of sampling and remixing has long been a topic of debate among dedicated audiophiles. It’s a question of whether sampling and/or remixing is an art form, or just plain theft. Though I don’t know the answer, I certainly have been intrigued by the question. I’ve also been intrigued by the band name Thievery Corporation and have long wondered if they took that name so as to take ownership of the concept. In much the same way rappers retook ownership of the word “nigger,” perhaps Thievery Corp adopted the name Thievery as if to say, “That’s right nigga, we’re stealing the music. Whatcha gonna do about it?!”
On their latest album, Versions, nearly the entire disc is of songs stolen, er, remixed, from other artists. Songs such as, “This is Not a Love Song,” by Nouvelle Vague, “Lemon Tree,” by Herb Alpert, “Dirty Little Secret” by Sarah McLachlan, “Strange Days,” by The Doors, and “Beloved” by Anoushka Shankar have all been, um, reconfigured by Thievery Corporation.

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