Saturday’s “surprise guest” at the two-day parking-lot festival known as the Bamboozle was introduced with the three words “Don’t,” “Stop,” and “Believin’,” and from my vantage point in the crowd–which rendered the men muscling through four of Journey’s hits onstage into something resembling very animated Berzerk robots–I thought that I was actually watching the San Francisco band collect a big, yet sorta-strange, paycheck. As it turned out, the band that I was singing along with was actually a really, really convincing tribute band. (Of course, some smart-asses out there will assert that having Arnel Pineda on vocals makes the currently touring incarnation of Journey a cover band of sorts, but we’ll leave that alone for now.) But the surprise and its “gotcha!” aftershock were both appropriate for a festival that, despite being clad in “FUCK SWINE FLU” t-shirts as far as the eye could see, spent a fair chunk of time looking back. MORE »
POSTS FROM "ON THE SCENE" CATEGORY
ON THE SCENE
New Jersey Gets Bamboozled By Nostalgia
ON THE SCENE
Notes On The Post-Holiday Retail Landscape
Note: The above picture was taken while driving down Sunrise Highway in Massapequa, N.Y., yesterday. I swear. If only I’d looked inside to see if any inventory was still there, moulding over after two years of inactivity…
On Friday night, a friend and I were at my parents’ local mall, and as often happens with me, the conversation turned to music; specifically, country artist Eric Church, and his 2006 album Sinners Like Me. “I’d like to hear that album,” my pal said, “and I bet my dad would like it too. Do you think there’s anyplace in the mall where we can pick it up?” MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Z100’s Jingle Ball 2008: In Which Ne-Yo Makes Us Believe In Pop Again
So, Friday night was the 2008 installment of Z100’s end-of-year-fest known as the Jingle Ball, and while this year’s lineup didn’t have any guaranteed swoon objects like last year’s Jonas Brothers fest, the lineup was nowhere near the crapfest that was Zootopia. Kanye West and Ne-Yo and Rihanna (and even Leona Lewis and David Archuleta, to a lesser extent) made me realize that while the ever-shrinking beast that is “pop music” certainly has its problems in 2008, its high points can still bring smiles to faces and twitchiness to butts.
ON THE SCENE
“Chinese Democracy”: So, How’d All That Pent-Up Demand Work Out?
I stopped by the Best Buy on Broadway in downtown Manhattan today and was greeted by the sign at left, which led me to believe that Chinese Democracy’s release would have been a big deal, at least in terms of in-store displays and the like. But as it turned out, “music’s most anticipated album ever” wasn’t worth a display on the store’s first floor, let alone one somewhere adjacent to the Rock Band 2 setup on floor two. Instead, once I got to the store’s music section (which is probably worthy of its own “how low can its floor space go” post at some point), I saw a big display of iPod acessories blocking the poster advertising the album, and scant inventory of the record itself. (I did get to play “Man In The Box” and “Eye Of The Tiger” on Rock Band, which was pretty fun; the store was overall surprisingly empty, and I probably could have squeezed another two songs or so in.) What was the scene like in other parts of the country? Some reports from the front after the jump. MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Zooey Deschanel’s No. 1 Fan Finds Out, Once And For All, Whether She & Him Is Better Than The Internet
A few days ago, we sent Molly McAleer to the Wiltern in Los Angeles to see what happens when Zooey Deschanel’s No. 1 fan sees her live–in this case, during a concert put on by her collaboration with M. Ward, She & Him. Does he explode? Does time stop? Does he just need a cigarette? Find out after the jump. MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Idolator Takes On The Perspiring, Stripping, Pretty Young Masses Of Girl Talk Fans
A lot of you out there have probably heard about the sweaty, dayglo, incessantly referential shows put on by the apocalypse-anticipating laptop-slinger who goes by the stage name Girl Talk. You might be wondering, “Are these shows for me? Would I have a good time? Where would I keep my wallet and keys during the parts of the show where everyone in the audience takes their clothes off?” We sent Molly McAleer to two Girl Talk shows in Los Angeles this weekend in hopes of bringing our readers a field guide of sorts to their shows. After the jump, the fruits of her labor. MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Live Onstage (And On The Sidewalk, And In The Trees) In Portland
A bit back, I mentioned that Seattle has music festivals like it has rain. That actually goes for the Pacific Northwest as a whole, a fact I spent this past weekend basking in on my trip to Portland for Music Fest Northwest (MFNW). MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Bumbershoot, Day One: Comedy, British Soul, and Singer-Songwriter Couples Fight Off the Rain
I’ve been a pretty unabashed fan of the Seattle music and arts festival Bumbershoot, which has occurred every Labor Day weekend since 1971 since I first heard of it, with the caveat that I first heard of it under rather good circumstances. An old roommate had told me about it in 1994, but I’d forgotten all about it until the August 1996 road trip I wrote about here, I defected, via Greyhound, to Seattle from the group’s intended San Francisco, and I wound up at the Green Tortoise, a rooming house near Seattle Center, where Bumbershoot was underway. I went to the gate, paid my fee, and caught good sets by Ani DiFranco, Los Lobos, and the Sex Pistols without realizing I could see any of them before arriving at the hostel. (I also saw a superb Elvis Costello show–a separate ticket–that weekend, his final-ever with the Attractions.) If I have an unusually rosy view of Seattle, it was installed that day. MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Heart-Shaped Pancakes And White Chocolate Everywhere: Idolator Samples Denny’s Musician-Inspired Offerings
We’ve reported earlier on Denny’s attempt to reach out to the kids by inviting bands to design menu items, throwing Warped Tour afterparties, and playing alt-rock over the loudspeakers during the late-night hours. But since there’s no outpost of the 24-hour chain diner nearby, we couldn’t experience the marketing magic for ourselves–until last night, when the Idolator braintrust got invited to an event spotlighting the items on what Denny’s is calling its Rock Star Menu. Unfortunately the Metropolitan Pavilion didn’t have red plastic booths installed for the festivities (Denny’s-branded placemats would have to suffice), it was early evening and not the wee hours of the morning, and I was drinking rum-spiked Diet Dr Pepper instead of the virginal version that I’d normally be served. But otherwise former Denny’s beat reporter Anthony Miccio and I felt like we’d been transported back to the suburbs, complete with “Toxic” playing at top volume over the PA and me nearly choking on an onion ring. After the jump, our overall impressions of the menu’s musician-designed foodstuffs. MORE »
ON THE SCENE
Idolator Rocks The Bells, Develops Kyphosis
Greetings from “at large”! Like any good penitent, my self-imposed blogging exile has included certain dietary restrictions. Fer instance consuming as little music released in 2008 as possible. But spending the day slopping about in music-related nostalgia is still OK, because otherwise I would have to turn to Jack Van Impe reruns or honest work. That’s why this weekend, while Maura was taking in the horror what Fat Mike and/or the Get Up kids wrought, I was at the Rock The Bells tour, a package deal involving hip-hop’s geriatric giants that is not a “festival” but a “hip-hop platform,” presumably because it’s easy for socially conscious rappers to steal juice from political terminology in an election year. We (meaning me and photographer Frank Hamilton) scammed our way in with Idolator’s press credentials (and strategic puppy dog eyes), so the usual guilt meant I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself if I didn’t type something up after the fact. (Plus Maura made me.) What did we learn? Well, for one thing, we learned that if your blog ass tries to stand on concrete in a “golden age of hip-hop” gulag for 12 hours, it seriously fucks your back up. (According to Maura’s account from emo-ville, this is a pan-genre festival problem.) Two, that if our nation’s enemies (except for those Iranian fibbers) had targeted Columbia, Md., with their nuclear whatnot on Sunday, they’d have evaporated just about every rapper that made my high school years tolerable. To wit: MORE »
