Zombie-Half-Alive or Zombie-Half-Dead?

Here’s a guest post by my dear, dear, Spanky:

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Just when everyone thinks I am some sort of supergenius freakjob immune to spurts of adolescent activity, I have to go do something so utterly teenager that my mom laughs at me for it.

Supernatural started it. 

I could go on a very, very long time about Supernatural; the perfection in dialogue and casting, the guns, the knives, the kicking in of doors and the knock-down, drag-out fights. 

My type of show.

More specifically, I’ve been mooning over the two main characters. This is probably where I began my descent. So cute, I raved. So funny and so perfect. And manly. God knows I need manly after my ex.

But this obsession was quickly thrown to the backburner (mind you, still a smouldering backburner) in favor of a more overlooked component of the show.

The music.

I like rock. A lot. But I’d been a bit lost in the realm of techno and Japanese music before I started listening to the songs behind the pretty boys. 

Suddenly, the long-neglected iTunes card came into play, dwindling away quickly. 

I rifled through my mom’s old CDs, in search of Kansas or Black Sabbath. 

This was music I’d heard my whole life, music with which I’d been completely familiar, and I’d ignored it?

A crime, to be sure!

So I popped album after album into my overheated drive and loaded up, reveling in radical riffs and watching the songs pile up.

More recently, an associate sent to me twenty or so very subject-specific songs.

“Why, what subject deserves so many songs?” You might ask. 

I’d hit you on the head for not waiting for me to answer the question before you asked it, then whisper, “Zombies.”

Because every good library needs a few good zombie songs. 

In fact, for such a powerful cultural phenomenon, it struck me as peculiar that some backwoods internet crawler could only dredge up a few. Still, not terribly determined to search for any of my own, I settled for the meager brain ballads provided to me. 

Curiously enough, I came to the conclusion that there are apparently two types of post-apocalyptic envisioners: zombie-half-alive types and zombie-half-dead types.

I’m still unsure as to which one’s more optimistic.

And that’s how I ended up with four hundred “Recently Added” songs on iTunes.

Here are some, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Zombie Zoo by Tom Petty

Walk Like a Zombie by the Horrorpops

Brains! by Voltaire

Re: Your Brains by Jonathan Coulton

And, for a blast to the past…

Heat of the Moment by Asia

No Texting While Body Surfing

Where’s Mercury? It’s gotta be retrograde. The last twenty-four hours have been one craptastic thing after another.

It started when I was ready to do my first Holidailies post. That’s when I found WordPress gutted the dashboard and didn’t put all the buttons back. It wasn’t too terrible at first, almost like getting into someone else’s car and looking for the headlights and windshield wipers. You can still drive the thing.

Then Blane reminded me his cousin was coming to town. I’d forgotten about that and he’d forgotten about the concert tickets I had for the night. No big deal, Spanky could bring a friend. No ticket would be wasted.

Thing is, Spanky ended up having to stay home from school. Just a cold. But it kept getting worse and worse. By late afternoon Spanky said she wasn’t going. So I’m calling everyone I know at the last minute to see if they want these tickets.

Finally Spanky changes her mind and she calls a friend of hers who, turns out had been begging her dad to take her to this exact concert. Lucky kid.

This kid, she’s really nice, but she is freaking loud. She’s a theatre student, so, LOUD. 

And she never stops talking. She talks over the irritating nav system lady’s voice and I miss a key turn. She’s smart enough to know what she does to people’s nerves and apologizes. Poor kid. Poor us. The thing that kept running through my mind was, I hope they have those concert speakers way up, I can’t wait to see this kid’s mouth move and not be able to hear her.

We saw Snow Patrol first, an Irish Indie band that never fail to make me feel melancholy. But what cracked me up about these guys was how they came out cussing up a storm and there was like, no reaction. This audience were, uh, let me just say, more the studious type, not the Metallica crowd. In fact, there was absolutely no pit.

So no body surfing. What I did notice was a ton of people texting. At a concert? Ah hell, I decided to get online too, check the blog. See, I left moderation off and I wanted to see if there was anything out of control over here.

Some way, some how, in all this new WordPress ruckus they managed to change my avatar to my creepy photo of me that I used for the halloween season. Great. I will scare off all the new people on day one. Thanks WordPress. (And many hours later, I am still unable to change back to my smiling-happy-welcome-here face.)

Between sets we went out to the lobby to see who was at the autograph signing table. No clue who these guys were, Carolina something or other, but the fan girls were worked into a frenzy. Two of them crawled under the rope and begged this guy to pose with them for a photo. He rolled his eyes but agreed. What was really pitiful about these “fangirls” was they appeared to be in their late thirties (the band dudes, early twenties).

 

And they kept giving this poor guy come hither eyes.

Death Cab for Cutie pulled of a great set and we were done for the night. Wait, time to go home and entertain the house guests.

Get in the car, “Empty.” (Blane I will kill you a thousand times for this)

Traffic.

The Nav lady spazing, “Lost satellite reception.”

Finally find a gas station and it’s freezing cold. So I’m sprinting to go pay for the gas and my keychain explodes. Keys all over the parking lot. Don’t ask me how that happened, I am still clueless, but there were little patches of oil for every single key.

So I’m running around the parking lot, dodging cars and picking up keys thinking, I am going to get run over and my legacy on the blog will be that stupid-ass halloween avatar.

Projekt Revolution 2008 Set Times

This is from the booklet they gave out at the entrance and not specific to the Dallas show. Keep in mind that show times could change.

Just Blane and I went to this one. Since it was just the two of us, we got gold seats which means they mailed us a package with a couple of metal Linkin Park water bottles, LP bandanas, and a lanyards to wear. The seats were pretty close to the stage and I am getting quite good at sneaking my DSLR into concerts. Haven’t uploaded anything yet, but I’m sure I got at least one decent photo of the hundreds I took.

We couldn’t have asked for better weather. It threatened to pour down rain, but all we got was a cool breeze the entire evening.

This is the first year LP takes this tour to Europe and I understand they sold more tickets to each show there than they did in the States. Maybe we are too spoiled with all the great music that comes around here.

Linkin Park’s performance was just as energetic as last year’s show but the voices were a bit worn as the they hit Dallas late in the tour this time around. Still excellent, but not as flawless as last year.

Vans Warped Tour 2008 (Dallas)

Okay, time flies in the summer when there is so much to do. Just wanted to write a little about Van’s Warped Tour, what it is, what to expect if you are interested in going.

We went last year and while I didn’t write anything about it, maybe I should have. I guess it was the same thing. Summertime, not enough cycles.

A measly thirty two bucks gets you a ticket which give you access to about fifty bands. In some cities there have been as many as a hundred. It’s a one day thing so we’re talking about multiple stages with bands playing at the same time.

You may have to pay to park, we paid $15 in Dallas. There were some people in nearby homes offering cheaper parking in their yards, but I really wouldn’t do that since there might be no one watching the car.

We were allowed to bring our own water bottles this year for the first time. You will want one of those and keep refilling it at the water fountain so you don’t dehydrate and have to be brought out of the concert on a stretcher. That could be quite embarrassing unless you are a drama queen. They sell drinks for $5, even beer ($7), if that’s your thing.

This tour usually has shows at outdoor amphitheaters. That’s one stage, but there are two setups on that stage since it is so big. Stage left plays while stage right sets up instruments. As soon as stage left finishes, stage right starts up.

The rest of the stages (we had six, set list is here) set up on the adjoining grounds and in the parking lots. Bands play for about 30 minutes each. At any given time there are three bands playing. No problems with one band drowning out the sound of another on a nearby stage.

At ours, there was no reserved seating in the amphitheater. Since most people want to be in the pit, the front rows are clear you can almost always find a seat in there. We sat in the front row. 

But you know me and my camera. I move around a lot. That’s what I like best about going to concerts, taking photos. I had no idea they allowed SLRs and wanted to kick myself when I saw a guy with one. I talked to him and he said he had no trouble getting it in there.

My Panasonic point and shoot does pretty well, though. What you think?

That is 3Oh!3, a couple of guys who sing to prerecorded music. Garage bandish. Some of it a little techno, some a little hip-hop. Don’t know how to classify them.

What? You thought this was a skater punk thing? Not entirely. There are all sorts of genres, mostly metal though. Mostly starter, unknown type bands trying to break into the big time.

Some are up and comers with recent radio hits. Like Katy Perry (pop).

Others are somewhat established, or have been in popular bands before.

That is Tom DeLonge with his band, Angels and Airwaves, a band I am not ashamed to admit I like. He used to be in Blink-182.

If you play the game Rock Band and know all the levels, he is at the tour bus stage. A little bird who got to hang out behind the scenes told me he doesn’t mix with people, just hangs out in his bus all day. I think the guy is married and has kids. I’d do the same.

But a majority of the bands are at the run-down, small rv stage. We passed a row of them in the parking lot and there were many. It must have been wash day for one band, they had all of their clothing spread out on the hot cement to dry. I thought about taking a photo of that but didn’t because it seemed a little invasive. Underwear and all, you know.

So, what sort of people will you see at a thing like this?

Mostly normal ones.

Lots of 15 to 20 year olds, but people of all ages, even a few little kids. It’s a bit loud for those little ears, so it’s not a bad idea to get some of those foam ear plugs if you are bringing one. There is nothing uncool about earplugs. I’ve seen tattooed people wearing them. Hey, you want to still be hearing music when you’re older, right?

If you want to see some punks, there’s that too.

I haven’t seen any of them cause any problems. I never was a punk, but I love taking photos of their hair. When my kids were babies I would always punk out their hair while shampooing it. See?

That was Spanky after I found a can of foam soap for kids.

What else?

Moshing. It’s not allowed.

 

But they do it anyway.

I’ve seen wise guys rule these mosh pits. I don’t know how they do it but they create an empty space in the middle of the tightest crowds and maintain it for an entire show. Everyone around knows not to step foot in that space. Until it is time to mosh. That is running around and slamming into each other.

If you want to see more of my photos of Warped, I have them in an album on Flickr.

We did not see as many bands as we would have liked. It was scorching hot. Miserably so. Being in the crowds made it worse. We visited a lot of the merch booths because they were in shady areas and there were a lot of other starter band barkers playing music samples. I love talking to these guys and asking them, “Why should I listen to your band?” See what they say.

Because one day these guys might be at the jet airplane level.

Warped Tour 2008 Set List (Dallas Show)

:::Click Here::: to enlarge.

Always great to have one of these before a show. If you are going to Warped Tour in a city near you, keep in mind the bands and set times change with each date, so think of this as a rough guide.

Just wanted to get this up here as it is quite useful to some people. I’ll write more about this later and post some photos along with it.

Here’s a list of all the bands on the tour and the dates they will play. Note that not all bands play on all dates. Some do.

Also note that there is a Hurley Stage (that would be the bigger one) and a Hurley.com Stage (small stage). A lot of people got these two mixed up.

I’ve added more photos and a few tips about Warped Tour :::here:::

Honda Civic Tour 2008 (Concert-Dallas)

One of Sweetpea’s friends came over last week saying she had to offload two Honda Civic Tour (Dallas concert) tickets due to a scheduling conflict.

Spanky and I just looked at each other, quite surprised at our good fortune. Headlining that tour was Panic At The Disco, one of her favorite bands. I never liked them until a few weeks ago, with the release of their “Pretty. Odd.” CD. 

Spank and I dropped everything and went, of course.  She says she feels she must to do a review of the show so people will open their minds to this band. I don’t know if she’ll get to it though, she has a pretty bad cold right now.

I’ll give you a run down of what it was like for me.

First, the cool factor. There is nothing about being at a concert that makes me feel cool or hip, especially one such as this where most of the fans are teenaged girls and I am one of the oldest persons in the place. I keep in mind that all the teenagers at these concerts probably don’t feel cool, either (it comes with being that age), AND I don’t think a single person notices me, anyway.

Is it horrifying? Maybe for a hip music reviewer who can’t stop thinking about how out of place he/she is for being there at the age of over 25. I find it taints their work and the reviews are not usually well thought out but a hit job on the talent because of who their audience is. They should actually pay attention to these acts because they grow with their audiences and change styles as these kids get older.

Panic At The Disco (PATD) is a perfect example of this. Spanky started listening to them when she was about twelve. I wasn’t too crazy about their music then, it was a bit on the whiney side. Three years later, this band has a new CD, “Pretty. Odd.” and it is exceptional. I’d think if one likes the Beatles, they’d like some of these songs. Maybe. Beatles fans can be a bit possessive about a music style and shout, “That’s a rip-off!” I don’t feel this way since I’m not happy with a finite set of tunes.

Now, about the show.

Starter bands usually suck because they’re new and trying to make a name for themselves. We were downright shocked with the first band, Phantom Planet (here’s their MySpace page). They’re not new, but I think they’ve recently become “quite good.” I don’t even know how to categorize them, it’s like classic and new rock rolled into one package. Their live performance was spectacular and missing their set because they are the first band would be a big mistake for anyone with a Honda Civic Tour ticket. Trust me on that. It’s forty-five minutes of pure music bliss.

The second band, The Hush Sound was excellent, if you like breeezy California rock. The front-woman, Greta Salpeter’s voice is pristine, but sounds a bit too much like other popular front women vocalists such as  Hayley Williams of Paramore, Avril Lavigne, and Lacey Mosley of Flyleaf. After about three songs, Spank and I were hoping they’d hush their sound as it got into Brady Bunch territory.

Third in the lineup, Motion City Soundtrack, another of Spanky’s favorite pop-rock bands. I don’t like their music, but they performed well. I was fixated on Jesse Johnson’s (synthesizer) dramatic emo bang. One of the things I like to do at these concerts is get at least one great photo of something unusual. That was my challenge of the night, to capture this thing. The guy has this chunk of hair in the front that is about a foot long while the rest of his hair is buzz cut length. The entire time he plays, he rocks his head back and forth really fast and this hair thing is an act of its own.

     

Come on, emo bang, cooperate.

 

Yes, you.

 

It’s hard enough fighting the lights and fog.
 Don’t get all smug. you haven’t won, yet.

 

 Ha ha, Gotcha!

Now for the headliner, Panic At The Disco, which started at about 10 PM. Their lead vocalist, Brendon Urie pulled off his part with perfection. I usually find that about half the time at any given show of any given band the vocals are not en forme. All four bands on this tour did surprisingly well as far as vocals go. It could be that this is the first week of the tour and voices are still fresh.

Okay, Spanky just passed by and said to save her some space for her forthcoming review. Yay, Spank saved the day. It won’t be in this post as she hasn’t started it yet.

In the meantime, I’ve uploaded a few photos here, if you’re interested.

Here’s a YouTube I uploaded of one of my favorite songs from their current CD. What’s funny about this video is what’s happening at the beginning, left of screen. A security guard struggles to heave a kid out of the pit. Reminds me of birthing. From my perspective, a mom bringing her kid to a concert… well you get the metaphor.

Maybe it’s just me, but I can hear Spanky’s voice singing in there. Funny thing.

Oh, and about the venue. What’s odd is how the name of the venue changes with the type of music… They call it the Palladium Ballroom for rock concerts, but Gilley’s the rest of the time.

Gilley’s as in Urban Cowboy. Mechanical bulls. Country music. Small place. Small crowd.

This was a great show. Go see it if it comes to your city.

 

I’m Liking Weird Fishes/Arpeggi

Radiohead have finally released their experimental album “In Rainbows” on CD and for download from iTunes ($9.99) and here at Amazon for $7.99. I know Radiohead have done some experimental music before, but what was different about this one was the way it was first released.

Radiohead offered the download for sale over the internet in November 2007. The price? Whatever you wanted to pay.

Since it got such great reviews, I decided to buy the entire album. I prefer hard copy if I’m buying the entire CD, so I had to wait until it came out in stores a couple of weeks ago. (It is no longer available as a pay what you want download.)

I’m liking it, especially this track, “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi.” It has a liquid sound.

The animation is “Wind Along The Coast” by Russian animator Ivan Maximov.

The Nightmare Song on Rock Band

So we get the game, Rock Band for XBox 360 on the very first day it comes out. We were going to get the one for the PS3 because those instruments are wireless, but Capone (my nephew) said he was getting it for his XBox 360. We go with that system so we can play him online. Blane II gets a setup at his house also.

Day one, the girls challenge Blane II to an online drum battle. They are certain he is cheating, that he has Angela working the pedal for him. He wasn’t that good and suddenly he was beating them. More battles later, Angela and Blane II accuse Blane I of cheating in a guitar battle. They are certain it is really Spanky playing.

On Thanksgiving, we all go to Blane II’s and have a “jam session” on this game. There’s lead guitar, bass guitar, drums, and singing. The way it works is there are multiple levels of difficulty, easy to expert. Your band starts out with a beat up piece of shit van and if you get really good, your band gets a jet plane. The more points you score, the more fans you get, and more songs you can unlock.

That’s where we were, the band had just gotten a jet plane. We call ourselves “The Lucky Charms” and our name is in lights. We unlock this new song and swear it is the last one, we’ll call it a night after we beat this song.

Everyone’s playing on the “hard” or difficult level. Sweetpea’s on lead guitar, Spanky on bass, Blane I on drums, and Angela on vocals. The song is by Deep Purple. Now you’d think the song would be “Smoke on the Water,” right, that is THE song EVERY kid plays when they get their first electric guitar.

But it’s not. It’s “Highway Star.”

And talk about a bitch to play. To sing. To beat.

Everyone switches instruments, different people try vocals, even me, to try to beat this damn thing. Every time we fail, we lose fans. We are losing fans by the thousands. We HAVE to beat this song.

And this song, the lyrics, they are hilarious.

Nobody gonna take my car
Im gonna race it to the ground
…
I love it and I need it
I bleed it yeah its a wild hurricane

Finally after a looong night of crazy laughter and singing (I never knew my hubby could sing like that!), we beat the thing. As we’re shutting things down, we make up our own lyrics to that Deep Purple tune stuck in our head.

Nobody gonna sing my song, I’m gonna run you to the gro-hound.
Nobody gonna beat my game, gonna run you outta to-hound.

Since that day, we’ve been joking around about that nightmare jam session, singing that song to each other when we least expect it. And then I just saw the commercial for Rock Band. I almost hit the floor.

THAT SONG!

Check it out.

If you are thinking about getting a game for Christmas, for yourself or for a family member, I’d definitely recommend this one. It’s a ton of fun, especially if you have a crowd.

I’d say this counts as a post towards Pooks musical meme. It has a video, some lyrics, and it inspires me to write (blogging is writing, shullup).

But first, tagging: Anita Marie, Jen, Daily, Michele, and AJ.

Here’s the plan:

So here is your assignment for today, dear readers. Find a song that inspires you to write something, whether it gives you an idea for a script or just puts you into a better frame of mind. AND/OR (don’t you love choices) peek into the lyrics and find a stanza that sums up the theme of whatever script you’re working on. It’s quite uncanny how the two circumstances go together.

If possible, post a video of the song to really get people into the mood. (Yep, I’m aware of the irony of using Internet clips during the pissing contest. I like irony as much as bitchiness.)Then, send the assignment (by e-mail or posting to one of their blog entries) to 5 other writers to do.

Smashing Pumpkins Review (Spanky Returns)

Spanky is my 14 year-old wonder child. Smart, witty, sarcastic. I love her concert reviews because of her unique perspective, too young to have seen it all. On the diving board from kid to adult, she takes a good long look around before jumping in. Here’s my Spanky’s review of the Smashing Pumpkins’ concert at the Nokia Theatre in Dallas.

Another concert, another review. Living the party life is terribly difficult for one such as myself, but I suffer it to bring to you, my dear readers, another fantastic account of the oddities of concert experience.

To begin from the amusing beginning, I will note that it seems that somehow, my timing is always off, from the small things to the large. This concert was no different.

I decided that I would dress up for the occasion for once, having a grand old time choosing my outfit to insane perfection.

Sadly, the concertgoers were not sporting any similar fashions.

This is to say, I stuck out like… a girl in neon blue and black striped knee socks in a crowd of “normal” people.

I did not have much of a problem with the more reserved, thus infinitely more mature mannerisms of the crowd until later in the evening.

As we’d gotten to the theatre early, we decided to listen to the opening band.

A mistake on our part.

The sole part of my musical experience on the behalf of What Made Milwaukee Famous that I enjoyed was the keyboard. I found it reminiscent of highly energetic techno, which is always good fun, no matter where or what you are.

After they played their last (agonizing) song, the lights flipped on and the excited murmurs began, even though the Smashing Pumpkins would not be out for quite some time. Instead of sitting around to hear people talk amongst one another for thirty minutes, my sister and I decided to watch the experience of another titan of the concert life.

Concert food.

I cannot claim to have tasted every food in this particular hemisphere, however, I can attest to the possibility that concert food is in the top ten worst of all of these foods.

It’s terribly unseasoned, not to mentioned often lukewarm and calling to one’s mind something to the effect of has this been cooked properly?

Needless to say, we passed on that prospect.

Seating ourselves once more, we waited with bated breath for the main act.

The Smashing Pumpkins, I must say, did not disappoint, not in the least.

They played amazingly well, and even the elongated guitar solos did not seem too embellished or unnecessary in the grand scheme of things, although I am still bewildered as to how they could see with the lights behind them that had, on several occasions, burned my eyeballs into a state of temporary blindness.

The most popular songs were the ones played off of the album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, “Bullet with Butterfly Wings,” and, “Tonight, Tonight,” having enormous popularity with the crowd.

The most popular was “1979.”

With good reason.

“1979” was very likely the best-performed song of the evening.

The decision for it to be played on acoustic guitar with no accompaniment whatsoever what a highly intelligent one, simplifying the song and allowing more of the raw emotion to come out of it. The comfortable familiarity radiated off of the crowd like a contagious heat, slowly soaking in until when Corgan stopped playing the guitar entirely and was left to only singing, there was nothing that could be called silence, the voices of the crowd filling the void left by the instrument.

When the band had picked up at a faster tempo once more, I noticed something highly troubling.

Namely, the lack of crowd-surfing.

I have previously stated that crowd-surfing is one of my favorite parts of attending concerts, and although I could understand the absence of such activity from such a well-behaved crowd, I was a little disheartened by it.

Thankfully, we had a teenager most likely off of his Ritalin for the weekend right in front of us, dancing like there was no Monday to come, for my own private entertainment.

There came a time nearing the end of the concert that called for a questioning of one’s surroundings.

This time was when the beginning riff of Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” began to resonate from deep within the hearts of the speakers.

It was at such a time that one could be expected to lose all posterity and demand quite plainly, “Say what?”

Indeed, it was “Iron Man,” and a very good cover at that, definitely doing the original the justice it deserves.

Go see for yourself:

But the covers did not end there, oh no.

Next came “I Love Rock and Roll,” (yes, I typed that correctly) which was, to say the least, amusing when sung by Billy Corgan.

Then they played a few more songs and walked off, making it entirely not obvious that they were going to be coming back and playing two encores.

Terribly, horribly not obvious.

After clapping in the dark for ten minutes, the elusive Smashing Pumpkins were lured back onto the stage, playing two more songs before leaving again after another bout of Corgan’s priceless crowd banter.

The lights were flipped on once again as the last reverberations from the speakers died away and with them went the last tangible vestiges of the magical evening.

My family was surprised that they hadn’t played, “Zero.”

I’m surprised I had been too caught up to notice.

I have to say, though, my most favorite part of the concert was definitely…

The keytar.

Cinemagypsy Must Be Destroyed

Eventually, I suppose, that is what’s going to happen. Bloggers drop out like flies after just a few posts, some last a year, some a little longer. Few go on for years.

I never thought mine would last this long. At first, it was an uncomfortable thing, putting up things about my personal life for anyone to find. I knew people would judge me, my family. My writing. That’s what people do.

These days, I don’t even think about that anymore.

So many people out there say, “My life is not interesting enough to blog about,” when I encourage them to start one. I don’t believe this. Everyone’s life is interesting. Not every second of it, certainly not mine. Cut to the good part and share. Or the bad part. You don’t have to write just about your life, you could write about something you saw. The lives of people you know. Teach somebody out there something.

I try to stick to my own life here because friends and relatives read to keep in touch. Most of them have never left a comment, perhaps they are afraid they, too, will be judged. I get a lot of emails from them, and that’s cool. (Keep them coming)

Now for something interesting.

Tonight, Tonight. We are taking the girls to see a Smashing Pumpkins concert. It’s a show that was supposed to take place on Nov. 3rd but was rescheduled. It’s their last concert on this tour and I’ve read the Pumpkins do some special things at their final shows. We’re excited about it, have had the tickets for months. Either Spanky or I will tell you all about it in the next few days.

If I outgrow and decide to destroy this blog one day, there will be plenty of notice. It won’t be any time soon.

Almost Impossible Rock and Roll Quiz

Rolling Stone mag has the most difficult Rock trivia quiz ever in their Nov 1, 2007 issue. The questions cover 4 1/2 decades of rock and roll.

Click Here to Take the Quiz

I got a score of 22 and that is not taking any wild guesses. If I didn’t know the answer, I left it blank.

Taking Back Sunday Letting Go Of Fred

It was no great shock on October 4th that Taking Back Sunday (TBS) announced Fred Mascherino quit their band. The last two times I saw them live, Fred carried them through the show.

Fred was their guitarist and co-vocalist. Even though the spotlights were always focused on the band’s frontman Adam Lazzara – with his good looks and swinging mic act – my eyes were drawn to Fred. He was the one doing most of the vocals while busting ass on that guitar.

It wasn’t always like this. About a year ago, we saw them just after Louder Now was released. Lazzara’s voice was in form. I didn’t even notice Fred too much. Since then, Lazzara’s voice has been in and out, but mostly out. The last two shows, he seemed like a puppet on stage, mostly lip singing to Fred’s vocals. That’s how it looked to me, and it was interesting to watch these guys cover it up. Even more fascinating was that the fans didn’t seem to care or maybe they were just willing to cut Lazzara some slack. I certainly did. Thing is, he wasn’t just hoarse, he lacked energy.

Unlike poor Fred (left, with the white guitar).

I don’t know how TBS will manage without Fred, especially if they will be touring anytime soon. He also wrote a good chunk of their music. Hopefully Lazzara will rest his voice and keep putting out new music. TBS says they are working on a new album.

So what is Fred up to now? Launching his solo career with his band, The Color Fred. I know, that name is just so blah. His first album, Bend to Break will be released on October 30th. There are a few songs on his website and MySpace page to sample. It sounds a bit more acoustic than the new rock he was doing with TBS. If you click this link to preorder, you might be able to score an autographed copy of the CD.

Projekt Revolution 2007 Set Times

Here’s something I wish we’d been able to find online before the show, what times the bands are playing. One would think it’s printed on the ticket. It’s not.

This is from the booklet they gave out at the doors and not specific to the Dallas show. Keep in mind that show times could change. The shows did run about 15 minutes earlier than this schedule.

Also, if you are unable to get to Projekt Revolution, see it live online in August at myspace.com/nowwhat. Or you could paste this url into your media player and get a better stream:

http://myspacecom.edgeboss.net/wmedia-live/myspacecom/23091/750_myspacecom-projekt_revolution_070821.asx

If anyone knows the day of that MySpace show, speak up. [Edited note: The concert will air on August 22nd at 4:30 PM EST, 1:30 PST.]

Don’t miss Spanky’s Review of Projekt Revolution 2007.

If you are looking for 2008 set times, click here.

Spanky’s Projekt Revolution Review (Part 2)

This is my fourteen year-old daugter’s (Spanky’s) review of the last two bands that played at Project Revolution 2007 (Dallas):

It seems that every time I see My Chemical Romance they get better, and this was no exception. It was a flawless performance. Well, not entirely, but the flaws had nothing to do with the music and more to do with the… interesting behavior.

I’ll chalk it all up to the possibility that Gerard was simply feeling… rambunctious yesterday, and entirely ignore a possibility that he’s totally gay.

Because those dance movements made me bury my head and say softly to myself, “No, noo, nooooo.”

Ray, the lead guitarist, was, as always, almost stoic in that all he did was stand there and play. I like that about him, he’s a no-nonsense and no-pretending-to-be-gay sort of guy, he just straight up rocks out. I could see him smiling, though, and I also like it when I can see someone truly enjoying themselves performing.

In truth, Ray Toro does not get the attention he deserves.

This, of course, was ended when Gerard told him to take off his shirt.

Well, he also told Frank to take off his shirt, and he complied, so he then got Ray to take off his shirt, too. The fangirls were drooling, and anticipating the possibility of Gerard taking off his shirt as well. Luckily he didn’t, because if he had he probably would’ve gotten attacked by one of those aforementioned rabid fangirls.

Of course, I’m sure it was a relief to be taking off all of that hot, black clothing, because they must have been absolutely roasting under the pressure of the Texas heat, as well as the spotlights, not to mention the pyrotechnics.

Yes, pyrotechnics.

At first they scared me, then they fascinated me.

Because honestly, who can resist fire?

There were great columns of it shooting up from the machines whose purpose I now knew. Alternatively, they shot out firework-like things, and there was a point during “Welcome to the Black Parade” where another great machine rained sparks upon them.

And I, standing comfortably by my seat, hot and sweaty in a way but not as hot and sweaty as they were surely getting, could not help but think that this all seemed very dangerous.

I also felt a great wave of sheer pity for Bob, the drummer.

He was, after all, right next to the fire-machines, wearing a long-sleeved button-up black shirt, the sleeve of which he’d rolled up to his elbows. It must have been like an inferno, not to mention that he really, really pounds on those drums with all he’s got.

Also, Bob was the one who got a second-degree burn from some unruly pyrotechnics in one of their videos, so one could imagine that he was at least a little afraid of getting burned a second time.

It was when Gerard told the crowd to mosh and named a man in a Wrestlemania shirt the, “dance commander,” that I realized something about this crowd.

Simply put, they were not exactly overly enthusiastic.

This saddened me greatly.

I couldn’t even see Sir Dance Commander doing anything, much less the rest of the pit.

Sure, they would pump their fists in the air at times, but I didn’t really see any moshing or crowd-surfing.

Well, there went my entertainment for the night.

My Chemical Romance’s show was, I think, designed with the specific purpose of energizing the crowd. All of the songs they played were upbeat, with the exception of the song they played for closing, “Cancer.”

While I do very much love their fast-paced songs, I like seeing the maturity projected in their slower songs, the world-wariness and the wisdom.

There was one thing, though, that I missed dearly.

To make what would be a tedious, drawn-out paragraph full of adjectives commonly used whilst one is mourning, I missed Gerard acting all grown-up. I know we can’t act mature all the time, and maybe he just wanted to let loose and have fun, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Much.

Actually, there were two things I missed.

The second was Mikey, bassist and very cute brother of Gerard. Where are you, man? Your absence is being grieved right about now by about fifty thousand fangirls (myself included), you know. Well, I can’t blame you for needing time off to deal with stuff, but still. Poo.

I love watching “Cancer” live. I can feel the emotion in the air, heavy and heady, hanging around and building with each word and each chord struck on the piano until it’s nearly crushing. You can taste the sorrow, because a lot of the people there know what it’s like to lose someone. Every sadness is different, but they mix and mingle together, creating an atmosphere that’s been unrivaled at every single concert I’ve been to.

Gerard stands in the spotlight, singing along softly with the piano, the air vibrating with the emotion he’s able to convey through that amazing voice.

All too soon (and this time I really mean it), it’s over and the backdrop is gone and the instruments are being transported off by the roadies and people are starting to collect inside the auditorium-like thing, waiting.

Waiting for Linkin Park.

To be honest and not a kiss-up, I don’t really like Linkin Park. More like I really don’t like Linkin Park. They’ve got a few good songs, sure, but they’re not my type.

They set up, but I hadn’t really been paying attention.

In front of the stage were two very large expanses of thin, white material, veiling the stage.

And, of course, when the band got on stage we saw their silhouettes.

Leave it to musicians to have a thing for being melodramatic.

Instead of just having fun being silhouettes, they also had to have tons of colorful, flashing lights in the background.

There were enough strobe lights to make a horse epileptic.

Men around me were screaming like little girls and I was extremely disturbed.

Even if I don’t like Linkin Park too much and I wasn’t paying attention, really, I must admit that they played extraordinarily.

And, of course, the crowd actually got responsive. There were tons of crowd surfers, even if I couldn’t really see any mosh pits. Everyone was singing along and pumping their fists. People who had been lounging around outside of the auditorium-thing rushed in to watch and hear.

This influx of human life made for one very hot place.

And one smelly crowd.

I could feel the heat radiating off of all of the crazed fans, taste the sweat (which isn’t exactly delicious). All manifestations of the indescribable amount of heat were tangible at that time.

The band was also feeling this heat, which wasn’t surprising, seeing how many lights they had up. Originally, Bennington (because Chester is an awkward name) was wearing a black leather jacket, but he stripped down to a white tank top sort of shirt that ended up being totally drenched in sweat. You could see the sweat trickling off their faces on the big screens.

Personally, I think Bennington has a voice that is much more proper for something like opera. Don’t ask me why, I don’t really know. It’s a strange, strange thing.

We left before the actual end of the show, seeing as we didn’t really want to get stuck in post-concert traffic as we usually were and they’d played all of the songs we actually knew.

When I got home, all I really wanted to do was wash off all the sweat and go to sleep. I could feel its gritty presence on my skin, and that’s never pleasant.

Concerts are always so exhausting. -Spanky

If you missed Part One, check it out here.

For some shirtless shots of MCR, see MCR Unwrapped.

For Project Revolution Set times click here

Edited Note: If you are a Linkin Park fan headed to Projekt Revolution, make sure to check out the booths where you can buy a live recording of Linkin Park’s performance for that night. How? You buy the code to download the audio off the internet the next day. Take it as a promise the show is going to be stellar if they are preselling live recordings. Linkin Park is one of the best live performances we’ve ever been. Chester Bennington’s voice is as close to perfect as it gets. He doesn’t even need a mic. LP’s performance makes good on their promise in terms of music, vocals, performance, energy, crowd interaction…It’s got it all. -Kitty

Spanky’s Projekt Revolution Review (Part One)

As promised, Spanky did a review of a concert we just attended on Saturday, Projekt Revolution. It is a unique perspective because she is only fourteen. Don’t run off yet, the kid can write. Maybe one day you’ll see her work in The Rolling Stone. You never know.

Here she goes:

The drive to the Smirnoff Music Center was a long one. Well, sort of. When you’re fidgety it’s always a long drive, and I hadn’t brought any books with me, pity. So when we (we being my mother, father, and myself, as usual) got to the gates, they passed these weird detector things over us.

Long story short, they found my granola bar. They tried to make me throw it away, too. Over by another guard, they found my mom’s umbrella and apparently, you can’t take umbrellas in, either. So of course, while my dad was causing a ruckus about the umbrella, I slipped the granola-y goodness back into my pocket and kept on walking.

All of this commotion allowed us to sneak in some chicken nuggets for my sister, after all.

So we drifted about for a few minutes, sitting in the grass and talking with my sister and her friend and eating some of her chicken nuggets and a snowball. Then we figured since Taking Back Sunday was coming on soon we’d better hurry off to our seats.

So we lounged around in our seats while they set up for Taking Back Sunday, and here I’d like to take out the time to point out a rather infuriating concert phenomenon.

When the roadies (a.k.a. the people who cart the band’s stuff about) come onto the stage bearing an instrument or some other piece of equipment, the crowd will cheer loudly. It’s louder than loud. People often cheer louder for the roadies than the bands, which is just… puzzling.

I mean, yes, they do drag around the SAME GUITAR THAT YOUR HERO TOUCHED and they should get some credit for doing all the manpower-like work for your favorite effeminate rock stars, but they don’t really do anything other than the hauling and the tuning, so they don’t deserve more attention than the people who created the music that you bought your ticket to listen to live. (Sorry roadies. You are really cool. But not that cool.)

So first we saw, rising slowly, their signature marquee with the words, “TAKING BACK SUNDAY,” and under that, “LOUDER NOW.”

The decibel level of the screaming was slowly getting more and more frightening as the marquee-thing was rising higher and higher until it stopped in its final resting position. Of course, just because it stopped did not mean that the fangirls did.

Then, of course, TBS came on, amidst the high-pitched screaming of way too many girls packed into one space at one time.

I have to say, I did not have high expectations for this show.

Taking Back Sunday has sounded (sorry, you guys) just awful the past few times I’ve seen them, so I didn’t really think that we’d be getting a fantastic concert. I mean, I seriously thought Adam’s voice was ruined forever.

Way to prove me wrong.

They actually played very well. Everything was in tune, perfectly, and on tempo and everything.

And of course, Adam could sing again. I mean, yes, he couldn’t hit a few of the high notes and that made for some really awful moments, but it sounded infinitely better than before, and, of course, he had his faithful guitarist to back him up (I’ve always wondered how he’s able to do that, play guitar and sing at the same time).

And, as always, it was just pure fun to watch Adam. He was swinging about the microphone again, which is pretty much the coolest thing ever. I’d been afraid he wouldn’t, because he didn’t for the first song or so, but then he did and I almost cried tears of joy.

Also, he looks a little like a T-Rex when he’s just standing there because of the way he holds the hands that’s not grasping the microphone. It’s rather amusing, really, and sort of cute in an, “I’m nervous and don’t know what to do with my hand,” sort of way.

Another interesting thing was his little box with the knobs next to the drums. He’d be holding a note and go back there and just amuse himself (or maybe just us) by twisting the knobs and distorting his voice. He genuinely looked like he was having fun with that, but maybe that’s just me.

The drummer was absent due to a herniated disc (how did that happen, I wonder?), so they had a fill-in drummer from another band, and he did a very good job of it.

The, “TAKING BACK SUNDAY,” bit on the aforementioned marquee was made of a bunch of lights, which danced around whilst they played.

It was all over too soon (actually, it seemed to be about the right time for it to end for me, but I’m sure the rabid fangirls would disagree [they always do]) and the band members left the stage. The lights of the marquee flicked off as it slowly descended to the ground, and out rushed the roadies to grab it and wheel it backstage.

And then they began to set up for My Chemical Romance.

They wheeled a piano onto the stage (ah, an actual piano and not a keyboard! Although there was a keyboard, too) and a backdrop unfurled. The backdrop was new, covered in wolves in what I assume is a promotion of, “House of Wolves,” one of their songs. There was also some equipment that I didn’t really know the purpose of, but that I’d find out later.

I personally think My Chemical Romance has a serious thing about playing at sunset. They always do. Maybe it has something to do with dualities or a very serious philosophical matter, but I wouldn’t know anything about that. And then again, maybe they just think that they look better in the waning sunlight.

One would not have to have their eyes open to know when Gerard got on the stage. What I mean by this is that they would be alerted by the high-pitched screeching and the possible shaking of the floor they were standing on, which could be attributed to said screeching.

Gerard looked fantastic.

Well, who am I kidding, he always does. But he somehow managed to look about five years younger than usual. He’d gotten a haircut, and he’d lost some weight, too.

This was all accented by the very tight clothing he was wearing, a change from his usual marching-band style Black Parade uniform. I could hear the fangirls’ hearts stopping, then starting again only going much, much faster than a normal heart should go. (Let’s pretend I’m not one of those fangirls.)

Click here for Part Two of Spanky’s Review. More MCR! Linkin Park!

For set times click here.

4-3-2-Pop

Okay, as promised, a little bit on Parisian sounds.

Paris is called the City of Lights. It’s a reference to many things, one being the Lumiere brother’s first public showing of moving pictures. But mostly it’s because the city doesn’t sleep (I think New York City already has that title). So if you have a room in Paris that is on the street side (versus the back, or garden side) and it is summertime, you aren’t going to get any sleep. Most hotels do not have air conditioning, so your windows will be open or you will suffocate.

It is noisy.

Mostly with buzzing cars and motorbikes. I don’t know why they are so loud, but they are and when the traffic is light at night, they rev those little engines to go faster. It reminds me of bees, multiplied by about a thousand. I’m a heavy sleeper, so I can do streetside. I like waking up to the street sounds of Paris.

Falling asleep in Paris, you’ll hear people walking below, heeled footsteps, and often singing. People in Paris love to sing.

Speaking of singing and sound, we did catch a My Chemical Romance concert at Le Zenith. It was the only concert of theirs we have gone to that was exclusively theirs (versus a festival), so we got to hear them for two full hours versus about 30-45 minutes.

We were shocked when we got to the arena because it was so small and the upper levels were curtained off. There were only about two to three thousand people there. Unheard of. It was like having our own private show. Anyone was allowed to go into the pit and the French didn’t crowd us. Or mosh. Or throw bottles. Quite a pleasant experience. It is no doubt the best show I have ever been to or will probably ever see.

They played every song from The Black Parade in the order that they are on the CD. They also wore those marching band costumes and called themselves “The Black Parade” during that half of the concert. They even played some B-sides from that album. After that, they said they were leaving, that their friends “My Chemical Romance would be out to play some old school stuff, if you’re into that kind of shit.” While they went backstage to change, a lot of people got confused and thought the concert was over. So while they leaving, we were able to inch closer to the stage. MCR came back and those suckers lost their places.

I know. Where are the photos? Well. Those bastards at the Zenith confiscated every camera and held them until the concert was over. Zenith’s policy, not MCR’s. I am bitter about that, bitter. My best opportunity for some amazing concert photos and, fuck, no camera.

Life is funny isn’t it?

You’ll just have to settle for Metro (subway) photos. There are lots of adverts on the walls which Parisians frequently complain about. Most of the time they are entertaining and tastefully done. This is Paris, they lead the world in taste.

The Metro is one of my favorite things about Paris. It’s been around for about a hundred years. It’s hard to imagine people zipping around town in these underground tunnels 100 years ago. These days it takes minutes to cross town in this thing. Above ground it doesn’t seem to take more than a five minute walk from anywhere in Paris to get to a Metro entrance.

The tickets are only about $1.30 each if you buy them in books of ten. Considerably cheaper than London’s underground which is about $6 per ticket. Both are even cheaper for the locals who get Carte Orange (Paris) or the Oyster card (London). Tourists can get them, but station agents are reluctant to sell them to visitors.

I have always loved this warning sticker in the Metro cars.

Wait, wait. This one too. I am a sick puppy. But hell, if you fall on the tracks I might save your ass.

Here’s a video of what it is like to walk through the Metro tunnels and ride the trains under Paris. It was done by some Parisians so you can hear their lovely voices and laughter.

I hope you watch it.

Here is a drawing in the guestbook at the home where we stayed just a few miles outside of Paris. A guest from Denmark or Holland did this with an ink pen. Amazing.

Outrunning Rain at the Greenfield Festival

One of the scariest things about going so far away to an outdoor festival is the possibility of rain. We could have camped right there on the festival grounds, it was included in the price of our tickets but we opted out. Just in case. It was difficult to pass, the scenery and all.

Good thing we did pass on it. Here’s the view from our balcony the day before the festival began (yep, those are the alps).

Here is what we woke up to on the first day of the festival.

Uh huh. Rain. I told everyone to wake up quick, that we had to get rubber boots. I’d seen some in town the day before while we were walking around and made a mental note of where to get them. A couple of years earlier there was a magazine photo of Kate Moss leaving a rock festival and she was wearing ugly (and muddy) rubber boots. Thanks, Miss Moss (oh, and your Top Shop in London rocks).

We bought the last of the boots and although it did stop raining by the time we got there, the festival grounds were sloppy and muddy near the stage areas. Here’s Spanky and Sweetpea styling in their fancy new boots.

It didn’t rain again until the minute the very last band finished playing that night. We couldn’t believe our luck.

That’s Marilyn Manson, Friday night’s headliner. He put on a spectacular show, even though I don’t care for too much of his music. Some people I spoke with there who had seen him before said it was not a great show, that he usually has a lot more energy.

It is difficult to capture the beauty of this place in a photo. It is an old airfield that the military uses. Three sixty degrees of stunning scenery. (I’m pretty sure they mine chocolate in those alps, they have way too much of that stuff.) Here’s the main stage.

And here is opposite the main stage where people buy lots of beer and sausages.

Sometimes a little too much beer.

But no bottling. Not much crowd surfing, and not much moshing either. We got squeezed pretty tight while listening to Juliette and the Licks. That is Juliette Lewis’ band. Odd huh? Yes, the actress. She’s a good performer, she’s amazing to watch on stage. Listening to her is a different thing. She can’t sing. And she is a bit crappy to her bandmates, giving them a thumbs down when she thinks they aren’t playing so well.

Between every song she stopped to bitch at someone in her band or behind the curtain working her sound equipment. I imagined her telling them, “Make me sing better!”

No such problem with Jared Leto’s voice of 30 Seconds to Mars. I’ve seen him perform three times now and the dude always keeps in tune. He’s a very considerate performer, taking special attention to those near the sides of the stage, playing for them too. He goes out into the audience, the crazy thing. This time he climbed a tent pole about three stories high and sang from there for a while. After the show they did an autograph signing, and Sweetpea, a devoted Jared Leto fan just had to go see him.

So we are waiting behind the barricade in line and Leto sees my camera, looks right at me in the crowd and smiles.

Yes he is looking at me, look closer.

Once I got past the barriers and security, they made me put my camera away. Sweetpea really wanted me to get a photo of her talking to him. I guess it just takes too much time for them to take photos with fans. They run people in and out of signings really fast. But this band talked to us for longer than usual. We were the last ones, maybe that’s why. It made Sweetpea’s day. No week. No. It made the entire trip for her.

That is why I took them to this festival. For years they have travelled with me and it has been really boring at times for them. Little kids do not enjoy travel as much as adults do. Why not do something fun for them? It used to be Disneyland Paris and children’s museums. Now that they are teens it is rock concerts, a great way to meet people from different cultures, not so much as tourists, but visitors. To see them enjoying music as we do, but just a little differently.

We all agreed at the end of the three days that Smashing Pumpkins put on the best show. They were the very last band to play on the closing night.

Check out Billy Corgan with his head shaved and wearing a robe. Not too many bands do encores these days but the Pumpkins came back and played two songs in an encore that lasted about 15 minutes. And as soon as they finished, it began to rain.

It rained every single night in Switzerland and every single morning, but it never did rain in the afternoons and evenings when the bands were playing. I felt really sorry for those poor bastards in those tents though.

The Best Thing About England

Here is my friend Liv and her dog Coburn in their English garden. She refuses to be photographed without makeup.

And here is an old wheelbarrow in her backyard.

I love the fresh clean air of the English countryside. It is serene and so green. There are lots of places to discover near her home. I’ve always loved this old graveyard by the church down the road and on a hillside.

A little further down the road is an area called “The Hythe.” I had to return a rental car there once and was scared shitless to go there just because of the name. I imagined cloaked rippers and ghouls down fogged alleys, glowing eyeballs in the darkness…

Everytime we’d see a sign for that place I’d hiss at the girls in my Jekyll voice, “The Hythe, heh, heh, heh.”
But the scariest things about The Hythe are the roundabouts on the way there. One is so big it is a roundabout in a roundabout and the people who know how to drive in them must be psychic. A roundabout is circle for an intersection instead of stopsigns. In England they move clockwise. In the rest of Europe they move counterclockwise. I squeal while driving through them with my fingers crossed.

No matter what sort of place we’ve stayed in England, and we’ve been to some dives, there is always an electric kettle with tea bags and instant coffee. Funny, we have ice at all our places here, they have boiling water. Maybe it is the difference in weather. Liv’s neighbor has an American fridge with an icemaker in the door, unusual for England, not that I saw it, just heard about it. I asked Liv to tell her I knew about the fridge and still didn’t go begging for ice even though I was jonesing for it pretty badly.

This is for AJ, a band she told me about that we saw at Download and enjoyed trememdously, Wolfmother. Everyone liked them.

Picadilly Square in London is my favorite spot in the city. There is a Virgin MegaStore (record store) there that I go in and get lost for hours. Four floors of bliss.

See that sign for the Underground? Years ago Sweetpea was scared to death of riding the subway there. She’d do okay in Paris and other cities with a subway system. I kept calling it the “Metro” or the “Tube” and didn’t understand why she’d kick and scream not to go in there. Until she drew a picture of “The Underground.” It had scary bent up fingers with long claws coming out of tunnels and the word “underground” written in spooky letters. Doh.

Sweetpea has a good eye for things interesting. She took this photo of a tricked out bicycle:

One of my favorite things about walking London are the endless reminders that they drive on the other side of the road. You wouldn’t think it mattered much to pedestrians. Think like that and you could get run over quick.
So it is printed on the streets.

Seems stupid, but it is helpful. I look right, left, right, left, OCD style because I’ve seen too many “ghost cars” come out of nowhere on my first trip there.

One of the best things about England this time? Leaving there. Here’s why.

On the Eurostar from England to France I had an empty seat next to me. In front of me, a woman tapped this guy and said he was in her seat. When he stood up, it nearly stopped my heart. Gorgeous, tall guy with beautiful hair. I thought some people have all the luck, why couldn’t that guy be next to me? The Gods must have heard me. He was on the wrong row. Plopped himself in the correct seat right next to me. He told me he was a male model headed to Paris for a photo shoot. Since I fell asleep on that train can I say that I…? No. Better not.

Okay, the very best thing about England was seeing my friend Liv. Dear friends like this don’t come along too often and I am grateful to have her in my life. She is not English but Norwegian and she’ll be after me if I don’t mention that. She just lives there and that is mainly why we go.

Teenagers Scare The Living Shit Out of Me, Too

It was a perfect day for Edgefest 16. We were scared shitless that it would be cold or rainy because the weather had been really bad in the days leading the festival.

We ended up giving away three extra tickets to Sweetpea’s friends. I had extra because I’d bought pre-sale tickets and then found some better seats when tickets went on sale to the public. Learned a lesson there. Michele told me that, but I had to learn it the hard way.

Sweetpea dumped Spanky and I for her friends and somehow snuck into the pit. How she snuck in was by buying a bright red halter top at one of the sleeze shops on the field.

She put it on and there was no need for the bright orange (pit) wristband. When I saw her with that on, I had to bite my tongue. I told her 6 foot tall boyfriend (he is a few months younger than Sweeetpea) he better keep a good eye on her.

This outdoor fest was no where near as rough as Download. The crowd was cleaner cut and had fewer profanities on their t-shirts. The place had a sterile feel to it. There was no grass or mud because the ground was covered with these white plastic interlocking panels.

It kept the grass alive and shoes clean. Oh, and wow, talk about overkill on cops and security guards.

It was pretty shitty that the place did not have a single show schedule to hand out by the time we got there. It seems like they could have at least put some poster up somewhere to let us poor bastards know who was playing where and when. There were three stages going at the same time. Very few people had schedules. I found out most of who we wanted to see were on the main stage so Spanky and I just stayed near there all day.

Here she is making good use of her time between sets.

We saw Blue October (excellent show), Muse (only like one of their songs so we went hunt down foold while they played), Papa Roach (Spanky hates them), AFI (Davey Havok gets best screamer award)…

AFI

Also, The Killers (more on that later), and our favorite of the day, our reason for being there… My Chemical Romance (MCR).

With a grueling tour schedule playing almost every night for over four months now, it was a no brainer that MCR would be polished. Unfortunately, with this many bands to run through in one day, they only had an hour to play. An hour in which we completely forgot about everything but the moment. It was spectacular.

The sun was setting when they started:

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I never talk much about Ray Toro, the lead guitarist for MCR. This dude is just phenomenal with his white hot guitar sound. He is the anchor for this group with his seriousness, classic rock looks (red spindly long curls, and gee, he has full lips which are just way underappreciated in this band of pretty boys), and the fact that he has worn that look from the beginning of the band to this day. Nothing wrong with tweaks and changes in appearances to freshen up the look of the band, but I like it that this guy just stays the same.

Gerard is just as gorgeous as ever, but his hair is back to ink-black. Mikey had a totally outrageous hairstyle.

As the set progressed it turned to nighttime. They did not wear their Black Parade costumes and just had a simple backdrop for their set. They played a good bit of Black Parade as well as some old school songs. It was a surprise to me that the song to bring down the house was “Cancer.” It moved me and most of the people around me to tears. The lighting was sublime and the people in the audience lit their lighters so it looked like the stadium was lit up with a bunch of candles.

I couldn’t help but think of my friend Michele, how she said that song made her cry because it hit so close to home. I blame her for making my eyes leak.

For all you punkasses who have been hitting my blog for that Teenagers Scare the Living Shit out of Me post I did, this is for you, a short video clip I recorded and uploaded. I will warn you though, you will shit a brick when you see the back of Gerard Way’s head in here. It looks like he is getting a… I’m so sorry, really sorry to tell you… a bald spot. Go ahead and cry bitches.

The Killers played last and surprisingly, a lot of people left before they played. They were twenty minutes late and Spanky had school the next day, so she wanted to leave. We listened to about 3 or 4 of their songs and began the long walk back to the car. (Sweetpea drove her own car there and stayed until the end).

While walking back to the car we could hear The Killers’ “Smile Like You Mean It.” Here’s our convo while walking in the crisp night air.

Me: Whoa, Spank, you hear that?

Spanky: Yeah, I like that song.

Me: (euphoric) It’s amazing Spank.

Spanky: I know, now stop complaining.

Me: What do you mean? I love this.

Spanky: (irritated) You’re complaining because you want to be in there instead of leaving.

Me: No, they sound fine from here.

And as smart as she is, I don’t think she could understand that I was just as happy to be walking with her to the live sound of The Killers, just me and Spank. While she finishes growing up.

The absolute scariest thing about teenagers is when they are yours.

Under Pressure

It’s about the end of the month and I know a lot of you writers out there are feeling it. That deadline. It’s closing in on me pretty tight and swift. Funny how it comes gradually then suddenly.

Well here is an excellent song I am spinning just for you prisoners of deadline. It’s a redo of Queen and David Bowie’s “Under Pressure” by The Used and My Chemical Romance.

Now I like Queen and didn’t think any of their stuff should ever be messed with. This song however is actually better than the original and I’ve talked with some hardcore Queen fans who totally agree. What do you think? Oh and the video part is not important (unless you are an MCR or The Used fan like me), just want you to hear the song. Sit back, turn the speakers up and relaaaaaaax. Then go kick some deadline ass.

EDITED NOTE: To be fair, here’s Queen and David Bowie’s original “Under Pressure” (the video part of this one is important).