My picks for the best of the weekend are the not-so-secret Arcade Fire show at the El Rey which hearty fans have been sleeping overnight on cold concrete to get tickets for…

and the intimate Crystal Method show at downtown LA’s Exchange.

I’ve been a fan of Crystal Method for a long time – so much so that I put Ken in my short film,  DJ Intervention. They’re one of the best electronic acts in America and this is a small place to catch them so if you’re lucky enough to be in LA, do it.

As for the other parties and shows, yes I’m jaded, but they all seem to turn into the same thing after a while. People standing in suits or bad studded t-shirts knocking back drinks staring at each other. For me the entertainment of the night makes the party and I’m not feeling it if the act of the night is someone like Katy Perry.

Speaking of, Let’s all take a deep breath and just look at what the Grammys has become. What is really being rewarded? Can the nominees actually play instruments anymore? The cast of Glee is nominated alongside actual bands who write music, when the kids from Glee are basically a cover band. I’d love for the buoyant Cee-Lo to win on Sunday, but is anyone allowed to dethrone Jay-Z?

It’s like High School and the Prom King has already been chosen.

Sure, every year an Arcade Fire or Sara Bareilles slips in and we rejoice. Mumford And Sons gets to offset a question mark inducing performance by Usher and we heave a sigh of relief, but nothing really changes. We go back to coveting our precious playlists on our ipods and shaking our heads in wonderment at the billboard top ten list. Who is voting them in? Ke$ha? Who is downloading Ke$ha? Can’t we, as a society, say no to Ke$ha? If we are to become a better nation, we must start from the ground level, and say no to Ke$ha…

We all have our battles to pick. I am asking you. Just pick one. Maybe it’s Katy Perry. Maybe it’s Ke$ha. Perhaps you will refuse to help BEP get the party started. Maybe you will not participate in Bieber fever. I’m just asking you to IGNORE one of the mediocre auto-tuned fast food artists and instead check out a new artist. Do some digging. Go to your local record store and ask what they recommend. There’s a LOT of music out there and it can be overwhelming. But listening to what is thrown at you in Target and Pepsi commercials because it’s easy, isn’t the best option. There’s better things to listen to.

Happy Grammys! Hope your date puts out for you.

Side note: As of late my posting has lessened due to some other projects I have coming up. You can always find me on http://www.huffingtonpost.com/alimaclean and now on http://www.witstream.com

I will have more exciting news soon!

photo by Christopher Victorio

In conjunction with Nic Adler’s whirlwind social media campaign and the Sunset Strip Music Festival 2010, Gibson has commissioned a pubic art project that features 26 ten-foot tall fiberglass Gibson Les Paul model guitar sculptures created by local and nationally acclaimed visual artists. Each piece celebrates a musician, personality, or influential moment unique to The Sunset Strip’s history.

Brian Wilson guitar

Among the pieces are guitars celebrating 2010 Sunset Strip Music Festival Honoree Slash, The Doors, Mötley Crüe and Sunset Strip nightclub founders Lou Adler, Mario Maglieri and Elmer Valentine (The Roxy Theatre, Whisky A Go-Go and Rainbow Bar & Grill).

Cherie Currie photo by Christopher Victorio

The Gala opening last night included a ribbon cutting ceremony at the Comedy Store and classic car convoy up to The Roxy and The Rainbow where guests like Cherie Currie of the Runaways, Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, Strip mayor Rodney Bingenheimer, and Strip Kingpin Lou Adler gathered to rock out at the Rainbow and celebrate a little Sunset strip history.

Gibson Guitar Town on The Sunset Strip will be on display for the next six months, after which they will then be sold at a Gala Auction with all proceeds benefitting nonprofit organizations and charities.

Invisible Children exhibit

I’ve been a supporter of Invisible Children for sometime now, as when I helped begin The Voice Project, Invisible Children was a model for what we wanted to achieve. The atrocities going on there are unbelievable. Joseph Kony is currently terrorizing five countries and it’s the longest running conflict on the continent of Africa, yet no one seems to know about it.

I admit I was a bit dubious about a bikini fashion show and block party helping the cause, but with popular artists such as Fischerspooner and Kid Sister on the bill, I was hoping for a fervent crowd of people ready to pitch in and make a difference.

The New York Streets of Paramount were decked out with food trucks, step and pose red carpets, the Hit + Run t shirt silk screening stations, Carmichael art gallery auctions, live art stations and, of course a Lakers/Celtics screen so the Lakers fans could watch their team go down in flames.

Different sections had popular DJs like Classixx and Pase Rock spinning for the upwardly mobile hipster crowd who swilled drinks and noshed for the charity while they waited for the fashion show and upcoming musical performances.

live painting at Design For Humanity event

As we sat awaiting the beginning of the fashion show, a film reel began, showing the Invisible Children efforts in Uganda…only to be drowned out by a DJ playing ‘Bust A Move’ by Young MC. Now, I’m a fan of busting a move and early nineties novelty songs. Who isn’t? But shouldn’t there be an ounce of gravitas given the nature of the film being shown? No? OK, moving on.

As a whole, the event was mildly entertaining. Billabong designed for humanity, if humanity is going to start dressing like the jail bait waifs on the new 90210.

a design for humanity

Kid Sister was a little like watching your kid sister put on a show. Then, Casey Spooner led his Tharpy twitchy dancers in a revamped version of his show, Between Worlds, sans the musical albatross around his neck, “Emerge”.

Casey Spooner & Company

After, my friend and I headed to the Invisible Children exhibit set up in a store-front across from the Carmichael gallery. There patrons could see the film reel, unfettered by MCs, rappers or movers, busting. There were also photographs of the children forced to fight in the war all around the room as well as the weapons they were forced to use, on display.

children with guns

It was a sobering moment and one that makes you count your blessings.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gaggle of girls in skin tight party dresses holding the guns, gangsta style, taking sexy pictures with their Iphones. One after the other, they posed with these weapons between their legs, licking the guns, humping them. I was immediately nauseated.

Then a few other hipsters picked up the hand grenades in the exhibit and mimed lobbing them at each other in a photo op frenzy. This went on for over twenty minutes. Dozens and dozens of different disaffected creeps played paparazzi with the weapons with the giant pictures of child soldiers looming over their heads. After fighting the urge to vomit on their American Apparel onesies, I asked a few of them why they were taking these pictures.

“Well, like, everyone else was doing it, and we thought it was fun.” Said one girl who clearly knew her spirit animal was a soulless cockroach.

I understand the need to entertain people for the money they plunk down for a ticket to a charity event, for it to be ‘fun’…but feet away there is a movie showing a genocide. So maybe a PARTY isn’t the way to raise money and awareness anymore. Maybe bikinis, Young MC, and cosmo martinis isn’t the way to get the message across that shit is rough in other parts of the world. Hell, shit is rough RIGHT HERE.

The problem is, these people think nothing about plunking down $30-$150 bucks to hang out with Kid Sister on the Paramount lot and ogle girls in bikinis. They didn’t really have to do anything proactive. Hell, they can even buy the tickets from their freaking iphone. That is, if they’re not already on the guest list.

What they don’t have to do is change. Anything. Their behavior, the laws, American foreign policy, Uganda, war, or they way humans treat each other. Which was evident by the pushing at the line for the bar.

Kid Sister and hipsters

I’ve been to a lot of Hollywood charity events. I’ve even participated in some. Some raise good money and are helpful. But most of them are a bigger PR push for the DJs and club promoters/energy drink sponsors that throw them. I guarantee if you polled the guests leaving some of these events that less than half could tell you the cause they were drinking for.

So maybe instead of throwing events for charity, how about we take the money and give it DIRECTLY to the charity. Or INVEST it in helping the people who need it.

I hope this event raised a lot of money. It seemingly failed, to raise ANY awareness or consciousness. In fact, I think that it proved the average Hollywood hipster’s devolution and frankly I’m disgusted.

If you would like to learn more about, donate to or get involved with Invisible Children, please visit INVISIBLE CHILDREN

How many open bar/energy drink special/free t shirt/ipod dj events can one succumb to until you slowly numb out and freeze to death right in the middle of Cauhenga Boulevard? My Facebook event inbox tips well over into the hundreds which I barely read any more. I’m not showing off…I’m just protesting the glut of white noise.

Sometimes it takes something extra to motivate me to cover an event, find an angle, do the interview, write the article, put on the push up bra…unless it’s free champagne and FOREIGNER. Stop the presses.

I do love my indie rock. I appreciate the singer songwriters. I love my atmospheric sweeping geniused gems. I love my dirty bluesy garage rock. I love punk ditties. BUT, classic rock and hair metal will stop me in my tracks. I’ll admit it. When I am in my car, I’m a radio flipper. I don’t use the ipod. I scan…and I find myself bored a lot with the new music stations. I often keep going back to the classic rock of KLOS. Perhaps I’m becoming an old curmudgeon. Perhaps I am just in a Zep phase…but I just want to be comforted by people who wrote their own songs, who play their own guitars, who seduce you with a solo, and who never used auto tune, even if they can’t quite hit those high notes.

I love some of these KLOS bands, not in an ironic way. Def Leppard? It’s no Mysteria why. Scorpions? What’s wrong with a night of sin? Foreigner? I’m not shy (and I used to get around).

Most of the people attending the I Heart Ronson/JC Penny event last night were there to toast Charlotte Ronson’s t shirt line for the huge department chain, or flaunt their fashionista wares, or gawk and stare at the fabulous kids who sell People Magazine.

I went to see Foreigner. Not ironically.

Mick Jones of Foreigner is the step father of designer Charlotte, music producer/scenester Mark Ronson who DJed, and DJ/scenester Samantha Ronson who, ahem, sang an opening set.

Moving through an acoustic set of hits like Double Vision, Dirty White Boy, and I Want To Know What Love Is, Foreigner then debuted a new song that Micks’ step son Mark produced. The band then ended with a spirited rendition of Hot Blooded, which even the teenage models and disaffected reality celebutantes, seemed to recognize. Maybe because it’s the anthem of making it ok to be a groupie?

Many of the well dressed lookliloos stayed on hand to sample the over abundance of free junk food and open bar cocktails and to hear Samantha spin, but with Foreigner leaving the stage, my interest plummeted.

It’s about the music.

As a panelist I felt a weighty duty to teach and impart pearls of wisdom to the musicians, label people and publicists who braved the rivers of green beer and gathered in the Convention Center for my seminar, Working The Press; Intellectual Intercourse and Interviews.

photo by christopher holcombe

We spent an hour discussing how to land a good radio or TV interview and how to behave properly once you do.

I realized as I was speaking that I was doing it, not only for the audience, but also for myself and my fellow hosts. As I showed the infamous clip of Johnny Rotten behaving badly on The Tom Snyder show, as well as that blisteringly uncomfortable Billy Bob Thornton interview, I realized that I may be helping many of my fellow talk show hosts and radio DJs in the process.

We are not the enemy. We are there to help and we love music just as much as the ones who create it. OK, so my speech was a little Jerry McGuire and a little Almost Famous. I got very Cameron Crowe on their asses. But I borrow from the best.

After the seminar was done, it was rock and roll camp time. Every year, SXSW becomes a bit more unmanageable. More corporate sponsors bring in their forts and tents and unapproved soirees that overshadow the showcasing bands who bust ass to get to Texas and play their hearts out.

I’m not complaining about a free taco and a margarita but I think its a fucking shame that Perez Hilton spends thousands of dollars to paint a building pink, and fly Snoop Dog in for a party that will ultimately keep thousands of people from going to a showcase where a hardworking band (who probably spent every cent they had to get out to Austin) is playing. It sucks and it’s not what SxSw is about. Well, like Sundance, it’s unfortunately what SxSw has become.

I did attend some parties, but I tried to balance it out with showcasing bands and up and coming acts. Here is a cross-section of some of the highs and lows, deep in the heart of Texas.

photo by Eugene Hernandez

I caught a Shadow Shadow Shade performance/taping at the IFC studios Tuesday evening. The band formerly known as Afternoons took to the stage to play some sunny pop in the crowded studios. Though the songs were well crafted and well-played, they didn’t hold my attention very long.

Unfortunately, this was something that was a common occurence this week and a deadly problem for any band vying for attention in a city with thousands of others playing slots at any given time. A LOT of bands in LA/Silverlake right now have that throwback 70s sunny Cali pop sound. I don’t dislike it. In fact, I do like it. What I don’t like is when everything gets very samey. I don’t blame the bands for this, necessarily. I just find it hard to listen to all of it over and over again. When everything begins to sound the same (whether it be sunny pop, electronic MGMT stuff, Emopunk, Hotel cafe, or whatever,) then you better be THE BEST out there, or you will get lost in the Hollywood shuffle. Being great isn’t always enough. Emmitt Rhodes anyone?

Band Of Skulls played at the British Embassy Barbeque party Wednesday afternoon…well BBQ it wasn’t  - not unless you can count empanada type pasties in a chafing dish as a barbeque. Since the food was served al fresco, perhaps the Brits cheekily thought it was Tex Mex style? No matter, I love them all the more for it.

Band Of Skulls, one of the best new bands out there and I dare say, one of the best showcasing bands at South By Southwest, tore apart the stage and showed a craftmanship that has even improved since their being on the road via their Twilight soundtrack spot  and BRMC touring slot. Yet theirs is not a polished poppy sound. It is the cool fuzzy, garage rock sound of an old amp Jimi Hendrix would have plugged into. Amen. For a video interview with the band, click here.

At the NPR showcase, I was introduced to Visqueen who opened for a juggernaut lineup of The Walkmen, Sharon Jones And The Dap Kings, Broken Bells, and Spoon.

The Walkmen and their drunken fairy saloon music have always been favorites of mine. Lead singer, Hamilton Leithautser, is more Sunday New York Times cross word puzzle than Vice Magazine Do and Donts, which makes me supremely happy.

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings stormed the stage next with some Motown madness which goes to show that the music business is not just for the kids. Jones is a tour de force performer and though it was an older skewed crowd at the NPR showcase, she is almost wasted at a dust bowl like Stubbs. She should be doing class venues such as the Hollywood Bowl.

The next act, was the highly anticipated collaboration between Dangermouse and Shins lead singer James Mercer, Broken Bells. After what seemed like a forever and a day set up, the set was lackluster and uneven, disappointing many in the crowd, which thinned out considerably.

Spoon followed next. Britt Daniel, the unofficial mayor of Austin, did not disappoint the toe tapping, mild-mannered, tax paying NPR crowd, playing many off the new album and even covering the Damned.

Looking for a little bit more trouble than I’d find ala NPR, I dragged myself to a 1:30 am Hounds Below show that did not disappoint. Mixing Brill Building and fuzzy Detroit feedback. Jason Stollsteimer’s new band rocked the Habana Calle into the wee hours of the morning. The band even promised a hot tub party for those who could brave the 1-35.

The Hounds Below

I’m glad for the Roy Orbison, 60′s sound revival that is making a comeback with acts such as Findlay Brown, Codeine Velvet Club and the Motown sounding acts.

On the other side of feedback was The Butterfly Explosion. All the way from Ireland and fronted by Gazz Carr, this Musebox Act kicked off the daytime party with fuzzy, brooding songs. It was half way into their set before anyone noticed the sun was shining with all the shoe gazing going on. The band is a mix of shoe gaze and post rock; Ride meets Sigur Ros with of course some MBV, but with their own lush spin on it. If you like euphoric musical landscapes then you need to check out this band.

Butterfly Explosion

I traipsed over to the Babelgum party at the French Legionare Museum which was on this gorgeous property, rolling lawns gated by stone walls and large trees, tented stages and drink booths…it was much more Coachella than SxSw vibe. The only problem was the sound. It was such a muddy mess that it made The XX sound like they were drowning inside a subway toilet. It was so dreadful I decided to leave rather than to think of them as being that bad.

My next discovery was perhaps one of my favorites of the festival. ARMS sprung forth from the breakup of The Harlem Shakes. Todd Goldstein reformed ARMS, a solo project he had started in ’04, and began performing wry melancholic songs about an unraveling couple. The songs have killer harmonies with a Walkmenesque quality, which makes sense, considering ARMS has found a home with the Walkmen’s label, Gigantic.

Todd Goldstein - ARMS

Goldstein’s vocals have almost a  Michael Stipe and Stephen Merritt quality, wavering yet angry. Still the most interesting thing about the live performance was Todd’s stage presence. Charismatic, and witty in between numbers, he remained far more upbeat than the story line of the doomed couple in his gem of an album, Kids Aflame.

The Rolling Stone Showcase boasted a lot of up and coming artists that hipsters, journos and label people were eager to hear. LA based Dawes played to a sparse crowd, warming up for buzz band The Whigs.

The Whigs

The Whigs had the heavy head when they were crowned by Rolling Stone last year as the best unsigned band in the country. That can often wreck a groups chances, but so far they’ve managed well. Signing with ATO, they hopped on a tour with Kings Of Leon and Dead Confederate. Luckily their dirty Garage sound skews more towards the swirling madness of Dead Confederate with the buoyancy of Kings, but they play songs with more than three chords. They kicked off the show with the battle cry “Turn off the lights, it’s time to party!” and they meant it. They dove into the set, with driving bass lines reminiscent of their future tour mates, BRMC. The Whigs have a bright future. Hopefully they will keep their rock dirty and varied.

Titus Andronicus, another RS buzz band already named the best of 2010, (oh Rolling Stone. You cheeky monkeys. It’s March!) To me, from where I sat crouched by the bar, they seemed like a high performance level shoegaze band named after one of The Bard’s less performed plays. But I could be downplaying them quite a bit. Perhaps that’s because the next band was such a party in a bottle.

Free Energy is the next party cruise in 40 tight minutes. If you like Sweet, Cheap Trick, The Cars, Thin Lizzy, and cute boys who drink beer, then get ready to dance your face off. These guys are only here to make you have a good time. That’s it. They play, you dance. You forget your troubles. It’s the Andrew WK philosophy, minus the fake blood and puke and sticky aspects of rock and roll. It’s the boys answer to The Donnas. The 70′s glam rock era revitalized with tight black jeans and runaways and satin jackets and extra lip gloss just paves the way for Free Energy’s sweet sexy glammy classic rock to make you want to can the can with Suzi Q, Gary Glitter and the rest of them. Each song sounds quite anthemic – perhaps these boys will be played in stadiums during very important sporting matches someday to unsuspecting jocks. But for now, they just wanna have fun.

Free Energy

One of the coveted laminates to wear around your neck was for the Spin showcase at Stubbs. The line up was a  schizo combination: a luke warm set from Rogue Wave, a manic set from Fucked Up (including lead singer, Damian Abraham, creating his own muddy mosh pit by pouring bottled water into the dusty ground in front of the stage and rolling around in it),

Fucked Up - Make Your Own Mosh Pit, Just Add Water

and a lightweight set from the elusive electronics of Miike Snow, which didn’t seem to translate in the broad daylight.

Miike Snow

But the real elephant in the room was waiting backstage. Courtney. It was the first time Hole was playing in the US in ten years. And without Hole. Would she show? Would she have a melt down? Would she be fat? Gawkers, detractors and mega fans everywhere were sticking around through the rather tepid showcase just to catch a glimpse of what I dubbed the Love-Train-Wreck.

The Love Train Wreck pulled into the Stubbs station about twenty minutes late, but for Courtney time, that’s no big thang. Wearing an orange pageant sash that was emblazoned with ‘Beware’, that most likely doubles as caution tape, Love launched into a curious cover of ‘Sympathy For The Devil’…I was not sure she was going to get any, as she announced “We are Hole, whether you like it or not, you little shit sucks.”

Wearing some type of wild, wild, west bar whore outfit and sounding like Stevie Nicks on a bender if she had been gargling with a cheese grater, Courtney flirted with being on key and was brash and confident…she was, well, Courtney.

Playing a mix of older hits (Violet, Reasons To Be Thankful, Miss World) and newer ones (Skinny Little Bitch, Samantha) Love tried to win over the crowd and coax us into thinking that her new songs would vault her back to superstar status. But even when she was making fun of Bret Michaels for being a washed up mess, I couldn’t help but think, ‘Courtney, isn’t that like the Hole calling the chasm, black?’

After a round of meetings and dinners I was whisked back to Stubbs for the Myspace secret show which turned out to be the worst kept industry secret – it was Muse and Metric. I like both bands but what made the night was seeing New York friends I hadn’t seen for ages.

What was unfortunate was the loooong line of über Muse fans that snaked down the streets of Austin who didn’t get close to getting in, while A&R people stood around and didn’t even watch the performance. Oh Music Industry, you big bitch. Afterwards there were many cool show to see. Sixth street in of itself was a carnival, like Mardi Gras, and when my friends and I jumped into a pedi cab to get to another showcase, drunken revelers literally swarmed the cab and began rocking it, trying to get us out. I’m not sure if they were trying to turn the thing over or scare us or the driver…but we were amazed.

This is SxSw, not a Lakers parade you asshats. We know how to handle you and you will get a beat down.

Saturday was my last morning before I escaped Margaritaville and I planned on hitting a few barbeques and panels before the airport.

Bob Schneider played a fun set at Stubbs early in the morning at the Rachael Ray event. And it has become quite an event. My friend and I went over there to catch School of Seven Bells. It was freezing and slightly raining and the place was set up with the sponsors frozen drink machines, instead of the coffee people so desperately needed. Funny thing…the ‘yummo’ food that Ray is supposedly so famous for, was pretty fucking awful. As was her husband’s band, which I think is the whole reason she puts on the event. The name of his band is called The Cringe…I don’t even need to comment further. He’s done my job for me.

Free Energy and LA favorites Local Natives played the small indoor stage (of course. Let The Cringe play the Main Stage and clear the venue. Good idea. Yummo). Andrew W.K.  got some people to party hard…although not too hard, because we were all in danger of losing our limbs to frostbite.

I headed to the convention center early to warm up and catch an amazing panel on Bill Hicks, one of the greatest comics that ever lived. A documentary about his life played at the film festival throughout and I have to say it was an amazing panel discussion – possibly the highlight of the week.

Bill Hicks

Oh Austin. You sure did keep it weird. Your mercurial hot and cold weather. Your open doors to spring breakers and corporate whores. Your damn Grackles. But I love you and I keep coming back for more. Next year? Same time, same place?

I have a full report on my favorite finds of the festival but the only interview I granted during the whole week is a band I’ve been talking about for a year now…yes the ONLY interview I agreed to do. Band Of Skulls.

These guys knocked me off my stiletto boots in the cramped sweaty back room of Three Of Clubs last summer. And I’ve made sure not to miss their LA performances ever since whether it be at Jimmy Kimmel or the Hammer museum. Their LP release Baby Darling Dollface Honey, doesn’t have a bad song on it and is chock full of dirty sexy soulful riffs -  the way the guitar was intended to be played .

Now boasting a spot on the Twilight: New Moon soundtrack, a Lollapalooza performance, an upcoming Coachella slot and a currently touring with BRMC, it seems that Band Of Skulls is catching on across the nation. Normally that would annoy an uber fan. I’d complain that I saw them first and their popularity means that they no longer hold that special something. But it isn’t so. I’m super excited for the world to discover this bluesy ballsy band.

It’s time to stop giving our attention to the pussy auto tuned acts and start turning our attention to the deserved few who are letting it bleed. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you BAND OF SKULLS:

If you really want to get laid, or hell even hitched this Hallmark holiday, there are two albums on the scene which will not only help you accomplish this task, but might even help you fall in love…with music all over again.

Findlay Brown, a young Yorkshire crooner calls himself a musical obsessive. After being struck by a car and laid up with a broken leg, Brown studied music so intently, downloading track after track of Phil Spector and Carole King Brill Building era songs and studying his favorite genre, became steeped in 60s sound before he wrote a single note on his new album, Love Will Find You.

Produced by Bernard Butler (Suede), Love Will Find You has the haunting, lilting vocals of a bygone Orbison tune and the songwriting craftsmanship of Lennon/McCartney or The Righteous Brothers. Brown claims that he was ‘unashamed’ to be sentimental when creating the album. In his favorite era, the 60′s, there was a romanticism that was present. People connected with the music and with each other.

True, in this digital age, with people often standing behind a laptop onstage, there is a greater disconnect between performer and audience member. Robot music is sometimes entertaining but no one would ever call it heartwarming or…sexy. Findlay Brown’s live show was both those things. The set was dynamic and well crafted, and it made me wistful for a time when we all looked each other in the eye and held meaningful conversations instead of texting each other.

If you want to make your sweetheart swoon, pick up a copy of Findlay Brown’s Love Will Find You.

No one is a stranger to the slow jam power of sexy Sade…But now she is back and she is NOT playing around. She recently dropped her new album, Soldier of Love, which in turn dropped jaws owned by the most jaded hipsters and seasoned music vets I know.

There’s something about Sade that makes the ‘too cool for school’ just want to get up and get down. Hell, she can make a song about GETTING LAID OFF sound sexy. When was the last time talking about being out of work for two years made you want to get up and dance and get sexed?

Well, this might change your mind:

With so many useless wars and fighting going on, thank god we have the queen Smooth Operator Sade, as our soldier of love.

Here’s the Soldier Of Love video:

I attended the festival this year as both an audience member and a participant.

Opening night at the SF Mezzanine featured a blistering performance from Neil Hamburger (O my stars, don’t get on his bad side), just off his tour with Pucifer. Hamburger was opening up for Tim and Eric’s band, Pusswhip Bang Bang.

backstage for Pusswhip Bang Bang

The audience at the Mezzanine were excited to see their nerdy Adult Swim heroes come out in spandex and sing bad seventies and eighties throwbacks but it was a bit of a let down as Tenacious D, and many other bands (Knights of Monte Carlo, Trainwreck, etc.) do musical band parody better. Anyone hoping for comedy bits or films mixed in with the songs went home disappointed.

Over at the Purple Onion, I performed in Joke-E-Oke, a show put on by  funnyman Harmon Leon and produced by Showtime’s Green Room host, Paul Provenza. Joke-E-Oke is a cool blend between game show and improv styled roast, where contestants have to get up onstage and perform stand up bits from legendary comedians. As they perform, they are judged, and heckled, by a panel of judges. The final round is a Don Rickles-off of ‘Yo Momma’ type insults until one person stands as the king of comedy.

Harmon led us into madness as the host for the evening with guest judges Paul Provenza, Mark Pitta and Rick Overton. Rick was also one of the featured comedians on the Joke-E-Oke wheel which was quite daunting. You don’t want to have to ape the judge. Imitation may be the highest form of flattery but it’s difficult when the subject could be making fun of you to your face.

Harmon at the Purple Onion

I was picked to go on first and I got Chris Rock as my Joke-E-Oke comedian to parrot. Which was perfect because though I may be a white girl, I think those that know me will agree – everything about my demeanor screams Chris Rock.

Ali Rock

Chris Rock

The evening progressed and I kept advancing to the next round. I made it into the final round opposite audience favorite Kozumi, who did an AMAZING Sam Kinison. It was tough having to insult her to her face, but I summoned up my inner bitch. In fact, I just imagined I was back in LA and it came quite naturally. Luckily we were both crowned as champs.

with Rick Overton, Robin Williams and Kozumi at Joke-E-Oke

Joke-E-Oke was being filmed as a pilot and will be coming soon to a TV network near you. If you love stand up comedy, you will love this show.

The festival had an amazing cross section of panel discussions (Reno 911 cast, Mystery Science 3000 cast), sketch and improv shows (Upright Citizens Brigade, Whitest Kids U’ Know), artists in discussion (Weird Al Yankovic in discussion with Chris Hardwick) cabaret shows, podcasts, a tribute to Conan O’Brien (which was canceled when he was understandably unable to attend) and lots of stand up. Only in this environment could you see author Dave Eggers mixing with Nina Gordon from Veruca Salt. Or having to make a decision on whether to go to see Dana Gould, Rob Huebel or Dick Cavett!

Dick Cavett

I was able to catch political live wire Jamie Kilstein at the Punch Line. He did a great bit about that included political comedy a bit on corporate music, labels and MTV which is something I’ve been talking about here for a while. I highly recommend him.

Jamie Kilstein

What was to come next really knocked me out of my seat. I see live shows so often that I am rarely moved anymore. I’m like the Anna Wintour of live entertainment – you won’t get much of a reaction out of me. I’m so focused on the event and I’m so in ‘work’ mode that I’m rarely caught up in the emotion of the song/joke/dance, etc.

Enter Reggie Watts. Holy hell! Reggie, a former musician in the 90′s, does a comedy act which involves using pedals, loops and beats and…voices. He uses all these different accents and voices and moves in and out of them so seamlessly that it’s nearly impossibly to figure out which is his own. And it’s all very stream of consciousness…I was on the edge of my seat. I was fascinated. I really can’t remember the last time a performer showed me something that caused me to stare, slack jawed. Reggie Watts. Get ready for him.

Reggie Watts

Oh San Francisco, I love you. I love the crazy graffiti murder hotel room I stayed in.

I love the weird signs and window dressings warning people walking by.

And I loved Sketchfest. My only complaint with the festival is that there was so much comedy and I was unable to see it all. The festival ran January 14th – February 2nd. If you live in San Francisco, that’s got to be the greatest gift ever…the super bowl of cutting edge comedy for twenty days in your own back yard. If like me, you were visiting, performing and then leaving, it was sad to say goodbye to so many good shows. Luckily I do live in LA and I am in close proximity to some pretty crazy geniuses.

Maybe there will be a festival of this caliber closer to me. Or maybe the television networks will get smart and put more comedy on the air.

Until then, Sketchfest is entirely worth the trip.

Kozumi doing Eddie Murphy at Joke-E-Oke:

The top five contestants vied for the grand prize by performing a five minute set, judged by a panel of highly accomplished drum celebrities including Peter Erskine (Steely Dan), Taylor Hawkins (Foo Fighters), Drew Hester (Foo Fighters / Joe Walsh), Thomas Lang, Jason Sutter (Chris Cornell), Kenny Aronoff (John Mellencamp / Sessions Legend), John Tempesta (The Cult), Tony Royster Jr. (Jay-Z), Nisan Stewart (Jamie Foxx / 50 Cent) and Ray Luzier (Korn).

While the votes were tallied, the evening veered from touching:

Guitar Center  inducted drum icons Billy Cobham and John Bonham into Guitar Center’s Drum Legends  and then Jason Bonham drummed in time to footage of his dad, the legendary John Bonham of Led Zeppelin.

To the downright bizarre:

Tommy Lee chased around a midget who jumped out of a trash can while Sully Erna rappelled down the scaffolding keeping a beat…

It truly was the Ringling Bros of drummers, and the ringmaster, Stephen Perkins, kept pulling more and more acts out onstage.

I managed to wrangle some one on one time with Jason Bonham before his amazing performance, as well as Drum Off judge Kenny Aronoff, who had just finished playing the Kennedy Center Honors the week before, in tribute to Bruce Springsteen.

Both Jason and Kenny eschewed the dreaded drum solo, which was amusing considering the set up of the entire event. They both also stressed the importance of being in a band and of working together with other musicians. Hear that music people? Can’t we all just get along?

I also sat down with this year’s winner, Ramon Sampson.

19 year old South Africa native and Tennesse citizen, Sampson competed last year but came back again this year and grabbed the grand prize package worth more than $40,000.

Ramon, who started drumming at the age of one (total slacker, right?), says he’s first going to  buy himself some wheels, probably in his favorite color, lime green. Then he’s going to roll down the windows and play some Michael Jackson in tribute to one of his favorite artists.

You can check out my renegade video here:

Ramon’s winning performance can be viewed here. He’s pretty amazing: