I love reading press releases for bands and getting to the obligatory part about who they've "shared the stage with." It's usually the best part of the document.
Let's make it clear right off the bat:
Mick Jagger shared the stage with Tina Turner at Live Aid.
Angus Young shared the stage with the Rolling Stones in Toronto in 2003.
Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake shared the stage at Super Bowl XXXVIII -- you remember the boob, right?
But if a band opened for another band, no stage sharing was involved.
But I love reading lines like this nonetheless:
"Rainbows Kill has shared the stage with many rock superstars, from Nickelback to Default."
For one thing, hitching your horse to those bands isn't going to impress anyone with any taste. For another thing, playing the first opening set at The Zoo for a 2002 Nickelback show does not mean you shared the stage.
What it means is that Rainbows Kill was heckled mercilessly by a bunch of drunks who staggered into The Zoo early and got mad because they thought it was Amateur Stripper Night. Rainbows Kill then spent the next 20 minutes dodging beer bottles while some mulleted dude in a jean jacket repeatedly...
Right now, I have a ticket to the upcoming Celine Dion concert on reserve at Ticketmaster... but only for the next two minutes and 15 seconds.
Don't worry -- I'm not going to buy the thing. It's all yours, dude.
I just wanted to see what it would cost me to watch the Vegas diva howl her way through a bunch of songs inspired by sunken ships, because I personally turn to Gordon Lightfoot, 3 Inches of Blood or The Tragically Hip when I'm feeling a little nautical.
Shipwrecks aside, it turns out I can see Dion for no less than $195, plus $14 convenience fee (which is a misnomer if I've ever seen one).
I'm sure the Baby Boomers will be out in full force on Oct. 27 and 28, and I'm sure they're only too willing to swipe their Visa Platinum cards in hopes of seeing the diva's lower lip quiver like that of a sleeping horse as she really nails the high notes.
For my part, I draw the line at $100 -- and there are a paltry few bands for whom I would drop that much coin.
I love live music as much as the next person, but a bill is just a foolish amount of money to pay for a concert unless Jesus Christ himself is playing lead guitar for Slayer. I'd drop a hun to see that go...
I know we can’t all be Steve Earle or Bob Dylan, but I expect and demand a certain level of poetic skill from anyone who makes a living putting music around words. If you can’t meet my minimum standard – if you think rhyming ‘soul’ with ‘whole’ is deep, for example – I’m going to make fun of you.
I’m a writer, and I can’t let bad poetry go even if you can shred the fretboard into little maple splinters.
That said, a pretty cool song can cover up bad lyrics for a hell of a long time. For instance, take the opening two lines from War Pigs by Black Sabbath:
“Generals gathered in their masses,
Just like witches at black masses.”
Ozzy Osbourne has earned the right to be as twisted as a four-inch wood screw, but Ozzy, dude, you just rhymed ‘masses’ with ‘masses.’ I know it’s a homonym, but come on, man.
Or how about this little diamond from Army of One on the new Annihilator album Metal:
“Just one big family
Been around since the 1980s
Old school, we're livin’ in the past
They said it would never last.”
I know Jeff Waters is trying to say metal rules, which it does, but I think there are better ways to say it. And the rest...
Call me a purist, but I\'m usually not cool with an artist giving a finished product over to some dude with a Casio organ and a heavy drug problem.
My first run-in with a remix disc came in 1993 at the Polo Park Record Baron, when I bought an album featuring several knob-twiddlers having a run at The Cult\'s "She Sells Sanctuary." I\'ll defend my inexplicable love of The Cult even in the face of scathing criticism from cooler-than-me industry types, but that album was a piece of shit.
I don\'t know what I was expecting to hear when I hit play, but I was certainly not prepared for the kind of music you might expect to find in a robot porno co-directed by Isaac Asimov and The Chemical Brothers.
Where were the big fat guitars? Where was the melody? Where was the talent? Well, some might argue that the talent was never really there with The Cult, but I maintain that Billy Duffy could crank out a ripped-off riff like nobody\'s business, and I think it was pretty rockin\' at times.
And then Butch Vig and Youth decided it was time to go Blade Runner on the thing...
I bring this up because right now I\'m listening to Year Zero Remixed by...