Grammys: Meet the New Prom King, Same As The Old Prom King

It’s prom weekend in Hollywood and the parties and secret shows leading up to the Grammys have already begun. Why anyone would leave their house for a secret Black Eyed Peas show after their disaster at the Super Bowl last week, is beyond me, but someone is still buying their albums. If you can give me a VALID reason why, by all means, email me.

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!

Billabong’s ‘Design For Humanity’ Proves Hollywood Hipsters Have None

Thursday night, Billabong and Paramount Studios hosted the 4^th annual Design For Humanity event to raise money and awareness for Invisible Children, a non-profit that helps children and families affected by the war in Uganda.

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

Foreigner Plays For The Beautiful People – Checkitnsee

With an onslaught of press releases and invites, I have the humble luck of being highly selective with my night time activities. That being said, I can seem to be quite the jaded gal, a retired hipster – party girl, interrupted.

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.

The Good, The Bad, and The Courtney – A Mini Review of SXSW

This year, South By Southwest was even more of a business trip for me. Not a search and destroy mission of boys, bands, and booze as it was for a lot of my friends. I had notes and cards, I had a freaking power point presentation…would I find the time to enjoy some aural pleasure?

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?

Guitar Center Fell In Love With A Drummer

The Guitar Center’s 2009 Championship Drum Off’s moved this year to the Wiltern and that wasn’t the only moving on up they did. The contest with the $25,000 cash prize also featured a Tommy Lee headlined Bezerk spectacle, including performances by Max Weinberg (from both Bruce Springsteen and Conan O’Brien fame) playing in tandem with his son Jay, Chad Smith (RHCP), Matt Sorum (Guns & Roses), Sully Erna (Godsmack), Frank Zummo (Street Drum Corps) and more.

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:

Youth In Revolt – The Anti Ferris

Nike Sportswear and Flux kicked off the new year with a special advance screening of Miguel Arteta’s Youth in Revolt at The Montalbán Theater in Hollywood.

Based on the acclaimed novel by C.D. Payne, Youth in Revolt is the story of Nick Twisp (Michael Cera) – an awkward and precocious teen who prefers Sinatra and Fellini to punk and video games – who falls obsessively in love with the hyper intelligent Sheeni Saunders (Portia Doubleday) while on a family vacation.

This movie has been 17 years in the making, after a failed MTV series and many attempts to bring it to the big screen.
The character of Nick Twisp is a daunting one to bring from the page to the silver screen. He is epic. Sort of a Holden Caulfield armed with a copy of Mad Magazine, a copy of Playboy and a torch blower.

The book is side splittingly funny, juvenile, and coming in at 499 pages, nearly impossible to adapt into lightweight summer teen fare. My thought at once was please don’t do this and if you’re going to do this: Don’t. Fuck. It. Up.

Of course the casting would always be a huge problem, Where could one find a teen self possessed enough to play Nick Twisp: a nerdy, hyper intellectual who is capably of burning down the city of Berkeley but not of talking a teenage girl into having sex with him? It takes a special kind of actor to have the charisma and charm to be the anti Ferris Bueller – to have the entire city chasing your infamous ass down.

Perhaps that is what the decade plus delay was about…enter Michael Cera.

A guy who excels at the teen dweeb deadpan with charm and aplomb.  But in taking on Twisp, Cera not only gets the familiar through line of ankling his virginity, but this time he gets to try rebel and felon on for size and adds split personality on for size, with his smooth talking, chain smoking tight white chino wearing persona, Francois, who appears mid-film.

Whittling down a massive book with a cult following is a big undertaking so it’s no surprise that it would take someone like Migel Arteta – a man who very carefully chooses his projects (Star Maps, The Good Girl) and leans towards the bizarre and controversial (Chuck and Buck) to tackle Twisp. I was surprised at how Arteta managed to cut massive amounts of the zany story line, major characters (a sister Joannie, the jock like partner in crime Fuzzy De Falco) and still somehow move the plot forward. Of course it did seem like many of these juicy characters were little more than blips on the screen – Ray Liotta’s psychotic cop Lance who in the book plays a cat and mouse game with Nick,  is barely involved here. And, I am biased, but I do think Zach Galifiankis’ swindling Jerry is much too short lived.

Also, Nick’s preppy arch nemesis Trent Preston only appears as a Deus Ex Machina in tennis whites, sort of disappointing.

But what Arteta does capture is CD Payne’s writing style and rhythm, which are the heart of the book and the heart of Nick Twisp. To take a miserable teenager, make him ‘Be Bad’ and plunk him down amidst a gaggle of characters where he shines like a diamond of morality and still manage to engage the audience in a lot of fun, well then you’ve done justice to Payne’s work. Phew.

After heaving a sigh of relief that breezy fun justice was done to the novel, I was able to relax and partake in the festivities Flux had planned for the after party.

As Sheeni and Nick were fans of vinyl, and Sheeni had a penchant for Francoise and French culture (particularly Serge Gainsbourg) film guests were invited upstairs to the mezzanine which featured a live music performance by “Paris loves L.A.” featuring Adele Jacques. French actress and singer Jacques contributes a track to the Youth in Revolt Soundtrack.

As revelers enjoyed the soothing sounds and showed their Ugly American-ness by double fisting free Belvedere vodka drinks and pushing others to get more open bar treats. Dozens of Be Bad pins crunched under foot. The crowd, though not so youthful, was in full revolt, and determined to behave badly and out-do any Twispian maneuvers. In a town like Hollywood, I’m fully aware of the damage the average hipster is capable of, so I quickly made my exit. Safe with the knowledge that Payne’s book made it to the screen, I leave it to the drunken hiptards to ‘be bad’.

May The Farce Be With You – Darth Stewie and Family Guy Are Back In Space

Calling all Stewie and Lord Darth fans! There’s a tremor in the force and there’s a party to prove it.

Family Guy: Something, Something, Something, Darkside arrives  Blu-ray and DVD December 22. A follow-up to the 2008 Star Wars spoof “Blue Harvest,” this time around the Griffin clan packs light saber sharp wit as they parody the classic sequel The Empire Strikes Back.  Luke (Chris), Leia (Lois), Han Solo (Peter) and Chewbacca (Brian) have evaded the dreaded Imperial Starfleet led by the cunning, conniving and curiously short evil lord Darth Vader (Stewie), setting up a new secret base on the remote ice world of Hoth.  With the rebellion in trouble, young Skywalker must take the advice of his late, and rather lascivious, mentor Obi-Wan Kenobi (Herbert) and learn the ways of the “farce” under Jedi Master Yoda (Carl) to save the galaxy once and for all.

In honor of all things Stewie and of course, the many wars that Lucas brought us, a special press event will be happening in a galaxy far far far away called Miami. Taking place at the Art Basel Festival, the event will feature a 45 foot Darth Stewie parade balloon, stormtroopers, light sabers, drink specials and giveaways. Super special guest DJ Daniel from Ladytron on the ones and twos. He doesn’t disappoint sonically and, ladies, he is very easy on the eyes, so I’d get down there if you are South Beach adjacent.

The best part about it is, if you live near this Floridian cantina, you can go for free! Yes, you can walk up to the door man, wave your hand in front of his face and use your Jedi mind tricks on him and tell him to let you in for free. He’ll think it’s hilarious because you’ll definitely be the first to do that all night. But if you rsvp’d, he will have to let you in anyways.

Here are the party details.

Wednesday December 2, 2009

The Vagabond
30 NE 14th Street
Downtown Miami

And since ’tis the season of giving, and I’m feeling a bit charitable, I’m going to give away a DVD prize packages (including DVD and mini-poster). To win, follow me on twitter at @aliontheair and tweet me your favorite scene from Family Guy. The one that makes me laugh the hardest wins. That’s it! I mean, it sure beats waiting in line in some Black Friday scam. Voila. Instant Xmas present. Though, if I were you, I’d keep it for myself.

Little Dragon, Sea Wolf, Shadow, Part Of KCRW’s Thriller Night

A KCRW affair is always a classy one. This year’s Halloween Masquerade did not disappoint. From the gorgeous setting at the legendary Park Plaza to the central casting styled beautiful people in costumes fit for a movie shoot, there was everything needed for a visual and aural bacchanal.

The grand staircase of the Park Plaza was jammed with incredible ensembles ranging from clever to kitschy. There were the topical and predictable, like a Galifianakis in blu blockers with baby from The Hangover, to costumes so intricate they had moving parts which lit up.

There were hats and gloves, masks, tails and plumes, which scraped floors and door frames. The amount of glitter, feathers and fur left in clumps on the floor of the women’s bathroom made the place look like a kennel in Vegas.

Each level in the historic Neo-Gothic hall had a full bar, spooky projected visuals and grand gothic décor. Out in the back, the premier foodie trucks, Sprinkles Cupcakes, Koji Korean barbeque, Border Grill and Kool Haus served up treats to hungry ghouls.

Gothenberg’s electropoppers Little Dragon dressed in all black like Dieter dancers with brightly colored Aztec paper masks, played their synthy tunes for an enthusiastic crowd in the Bronze room. As Yukimi writhed and waved her oblong tambourine and atoned ala Siouxie over the poppy goth beat, the well dressed crowd didn’t waver for a moment.  She rewarded the audience by dancing harder and singing to the back of the house with Evita arms outstretched. There was a massive response for these Swedes. Angelinos want more Little Dragon and they want it immediately.

Little Dragon by Jeremiah Garcia

Upstairs, the crowd for Sea Wolf was just as great, even though Little Dragon’s set overlapped theirs – the only unfortunate problem during the evening – Alex Church and company took the stage decked out a la Day Of The Dead in black skeleton jumpsuits and white skull faces. True, I was a bit disappointed he wasn’t dressed as Teen Wolf (luckily KCRW DJ Eric Lawrence WAS dressed as the MJ Fox character) but that’s where my disappointment ended. Alex sang the new songs with a confidence I haven’t yet seen from him, which will serve him well once the New Moon hoopla snowballs into insanity.

The band launched into old favorites like ‘Songs For The Dead’ and ‘Black Dirt’, asking Big Bird, Super Mario Bros, Jack and Meg White, and several slutty showgirls in the front row to join the band on the stage steps. As they played their hit ‘You’re A Wolf’, the scary visuals being projected above dissolved into the twins from The Shining which almost pulled focus from the newly charismatic Alex Church. Almost.

Sea Wolf by Jeremiah Garcia

Downstairs, DJ Shadow took the decks with 45s, of course, spinning funk and old school favorites. In my eyes, Shadow was the ‘get’ of the night and the clear headliner. He is one of the premiere DJs of his time.

DJ Shadow by Jeramiah Garcia

Unfortunately, his crowd was a bit thin, due to the set times overlapping and the fact that he was up against the Jonestown-like fervor of Edward Sharpe and an electronic rave that Jason Bentley was commandeering on the top floor. I’ve never seen men in full Amadeus regalia and powdered wigs dance in a room that was hot enough for a Bikrams yoga class. It was like Bentley had them in a Trance trance and none of them could pull their overly made up bodies away.

Bentley's crowd by Jeremiah Garcia

Many people filed in the ballroom to watch the final band of the evening, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, perform. Alex Ebert and his polyphonic spree type cult of musicians crowded onto the stage and launched into pleasant singalong sounds. It’s funny to think of Ebert this way. I remember him with the bi-level razored hair and skinny Ima Robot jeans when his songs ‘Scream’ and ‘Dirty Life’ made me do a lil’ indie dance. That was before he made a pilgrimage to Pioneertown and started dressing in all white, all the time. Now, everyone is entitled to a sea change both musically and looks wise. I just wish I liked the new music as much as everyone else around me did. Even the guy dressed as a Golden Shower, danced like a Manson family member on a Joshua Tree LSD binge.

Edward Sharpe and Spree by Gary Leonard

I went back downstairs for more DJ Shadow and for some Garth Trinidad who brought the obvious missing element: Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Decked out as Moses, he used his great, ahem, staff, to part the wheat from the chaff and really make the zombies dance. On the floor. In the round.

Garth/Moses and his big staff

Thriller night, indeed. Something for everyone and each one of the senses provoked, the masked masses danced straight into the early hours of All Saints Day.

Alice Cooper In Wonderland

Sunset and Vines – Rock ‘n Roll Wine Uncorks At The Sunset Strip Music Festival

Rock has a reputation for being a beer and whiskey kinda night. OK, maybe a rum and coke, then a shot of tequila, then eleventy beers kinda night. But somewhere along the way, I traded in my plastic tumbler for a wine glass. If I drink much at all, I strictly drink wine.

It seems it’d be an uneven match, navigating the pogoing crowds with a refined glass of pinot noir. Well, one less reason to stand in the mosh pit, I suppose. My drink often brings scowls or claims of “That’s a big glass of stain you’re carrying around.” Better to stand safe and sound in VIP with, my dear.  Sure, My libation choice may have made me stick out like a sore thumb, but not anymore. Now there is something that perfectly satisfies my Uptown girl tastes and my Downtown girl edge: Rock ‘N Roll Wine.

Founded by Sommelier Chris Hammond and business partner Sonny Barton, Rock ‘n Roll Wine is a wine events company dedicated to revolutionizing the way people perceive, and enjoy wine. Rock ‘n Roll Wine produces monthly wine events in Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and Ann Arbor, in addition to making their own music-themed line of wines.

I’ve been to events they’ve had tastings at before. In fact, they were doling out delicious vino at a Swinghouse Studios event. It was so nice to go to a rock party and not be shoved a monster energy drink. I even had a choice between The Grotto, a California red blend with grenache, syrah, cab and a dash of Zin:

or a white muscat, roussanne, chardonnay blend called Reggae Rhapsody:

The company does pairings…that is, music and wine pairings. They suggest that MGMT might be a good listening choice while sipping some Grotto while Jack Johnson would be a more fitting way to enjoy a glass of Reggae Rhapsody. Beach side, of course. OK, neither of those overplayed KROQ artists are my cup of tea, or wine as it were…I’m still waiting for the wines that would be good for breaking out my Gang of Four or Neu! albums, but, hey, baby steps…

Along with the music pairing idea, the company often showcases the wine while artists play onstage nearby. They’ve done events with big artists such as Dashboard Confessional, Everclear, Ingrid Michaelson, Pat Monahan of Train and Low vs. Diamond, as well as emerging artists. Jangly indie rock act? Rock N Roll wines will have a nice cabernet pour for that. Singer/Songwriter about to take the stage? A pinot grigio will be chilling near by, waiting to be sampled.

And in honor of the beer and whiskey soaked Sunset Strip doing it up with their own festival, Rock ‘n Roll Wine is going to class it up this weekend too. Or as Rock ‘n Roll wine tipplers say: “Rock Out With Your Cork Out”. The company will help kick off the festival by hosting their event at the House of Blues VIP club Foundation Room on Friday, September, 11 and feature singer/songwriter Cofféy. The wine party will feature 15 hand-selected, wines from around the world, including Rock ‘n Roll Wine’s Reggae Rhapsody and The Grotto.

To purchase your tickets in advance, visit http://www.rocknrollwine.com or call 702-240-3066. Rock ‘n Roll Wine is offering a discount to those going to the Sunset Strip Music Festival. Enter code: SSMF when ordering tickets online and receive $5 OFF addmission.

I’ll be there, sampling the wines and the rock, which to me, seem the perfect combination. If I am going to rock out on the strip this weekend, it will most definitely be with my cork out.

Wolfmother Serves Epicenter Festival A Cosmic Egg, Sunny Side Up

The host hazy and dusty race tracks are not the normal habitat of wolves. No, I picture wolves living in the misty mountain hops of vampire infested forests up in Northern America. But I wasn’t interested in spotting your average wolves. I was jonesing to see the kind of hard rock wolves who are native to Australia’s open plains. Wolfmother. They will do just fine in Pomona’s Fairplex.

I kidnapped my British friend, Som, and we headed south, outside the comfortable political and social strata of Los Angeles county. for KROQ’s Epicenter Music Festival. This being the inaugural year, they nabbed headliners Tool, Linkin Park and Alice In Chains but upon arriving, it seems that not even metal/grunge/rock juggernauts could overpower an economy on life support. Of course there are always those with disposable incomes, or meth labs in their basements…

As the backstage area slowly filled with Monster energy drink abusers of all types, the gifting suite filled up with ear plug hawkers and a laser tag course (with air rifles) was constructed in the massive media/artist building. I was quickly and succinctly shot in the face by a man in a Return Of The Jedi shirt, who was on a laser shooting spree while carrying on a cell phone conversation. C’est la Pomona vie.

The dusty field slowly became dotted with barrel-chested men in black Tool shirts, Street Sweeper Social club were adequately received, save for a few boos lobbed at them when they made political statements about sending troops overseas to fight in Iraq. You’re not in Los Angeles, anymore, Morello. Click your Hollywood heels three times. These men like their guns. And my guess is they don’t want you to kill their grandma with healthcare options.

As Som sought out his friends in the band, Hollywood Undead, I managed to spot an Australian red backed wolf, in fact the leader of his pack. Andrew Stockdale and I sat in the back of the artist tent, near where the caterers were inexplicably serving up tray after tray of hot brussel sprouts…By the way, really? Brussel sprouts? How is that a rock n roll food? Like Linkin Park is gonna come rolling through and say “Oooh I’m gonna eat the crap outta those brussell sprouts!” But I digress…

Andrew and I lounged amidst the stench of rockin’ brussel sprouts and talked about his return to sunny LA, where the band had recorded their latest release, Cosmic Egg. Andrew wholeheartedly admitted that the October 13th drop date was a nod to my birthday. He knows better to disappoint me. I mean, he does live in the land down under, but LA is like his second home so he does have to worry about making me unhappy. And how did he feel about being back in his second home?

“I do like LA. I’m interested in all the different sides to it.”

Yeah, we know. Our city can be just as bi-polar as it’s inhabitants.  That’s why we self medicate or meditate. And speaking of our namaste ways, what of the folklore that Cosmic Egg was named after some crazy yoga pose Andrew found himself in?

“Yeah, I think it was some resting pose, I’m not sure. It could have been the fetal pose. It must have been a tripped out instructor for sure.”

Tripped out sounds about right. But the Cosmic Egg is also a Hindu symbol often used to describe what we call the big bang theory. Did that factor into naming the album?

“I was interested in something I read about black holes being the end of time but now they think they’re the beginning. So it’s the end of the beginning. Or, it’s a new universe. If that makes sense. I didn’t even know all that was behind the name when I heard it. I just thought it sounded cool!”

With all the talk about the beginning and the end of the universe, and 2012 quickly approaching, anyone who is still following he Mayan calendar would be getting a little uneasy. So is this the end of days? Or is the cosmic egg cracking open something wonderful and new?

“When I first started writing songs, there were a lot of environmental issues in the press and we did shows for lower emissions. So, some of my songs are about the end of the world. You know: ‘The sun’s getting closer! We’ve got to change our ways!’ But I’m glad there are only one or two songs in there like that. One of the songs is called ‘The Violence Of The Sun’…there’s nothing hippie about it. It’s this burning mass of destruction. The environment is violent. Evolution is violent.”

As out discussion starts to get farther from mysticism: (star showers, wolves, and eggs) and further into science and the temperature of the earth’s core, Andrew gets uneasy and balks.

“I don’t want to be overly intellectual about it.” He pauses and adjusts his grey vest. “Not that I could be.” He adds, laughing.

Well, then it seems that he’s come to the right place. I don’t want to generalize but after watching Boots Riley and Tom Morello get booed, the field outside seems to be a giant mass of duh being stirred up with beer and energy cocktails. Since when did it become uncool to be smart? Was it dummy pimps, like Palin, who made the intellectual a dirty name?

“You don’t have to be dumb,” Andrew starts out carefully, “but I think it’s important to be instinctive and expressive and have passion. That goes a long way. And not being too strategic too. I saw this thing on Picasso. He wanted to get one of his mistresses pregnant so she’d be less intellectual and more in tune with life.”

Point taken.  Intellect and instinct both have their place. And I am hereby doubling up on condoms. Just in case.

As his band mates begin to shuffle by and get ready to head toward the stage, I ask Andrew if he’s seen It Might Get Loud. He hasn’t yet, but we talk about Jimmy Page and Wolfmother’s big date, opening for Led Zeppelin when they were inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame. I point out that they are most likely the last band to ever do so and that the pressure would drive someone like me to drink.

“I sat in the backstage area and played that solo (Communication Breakdown) about fifty times before we walked out there. The bizarre thing is that James Brown was there to induct himself and he looked over at me and I gave him a little wave and he waved back. He died the next day. It’s amazing. It’s like he stayed alive just for that.”

Andrew kind of pauses, lost in the moment. A cameraman tripping over himself in front of us brings Andrew back to storytelling mode.

“Anyway we went and did Communication Breakdown. My monitor on the stage stopped working. The sound was blaring. I couldn’t hear a thing so I thought I just better go for it. It was the highest I have ever sung in my life!”

I start to laugh, picturing Andrew’s already soaring voice reaching the outer galaxies. I mention to him that whales and dolphins across the seas were with him in spirit that day. He made a legion of marine life into Zep fans that day. He smiles at the thought. I think I might have just inspired some album art work or posters for the next round.

Andrew gets ready to rock the Pomonians, but before he does, I ask him one last question. If the epicenter is the point of an underground explosion, what does he think is the next underground explosion about to hit our culture?

“Aw, I haven’t even had time to think about good stuff like that. Easy listening? Bossanova! Like Jose Feliciano? Really beautiful bossanova music.

I tell him he could start the trend today. He’s got a big audience awaiting him with rapt attention.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll bring out the nylon string today.”

If anyone could pull it off, it would be Stockdale, who has managed to bring back a classic rock sound without aping the genre. Luckily for those about to rock out at the Epicenter Festival, Andrew and the wolf crew kept it hard and loud. Mixing some new blue cheer tunes like California Queen and New Moon Rising, with old popular Zep twinged tunes like Woman, White Unicorn and Dimension, the audience roared with a whole lotta love.

credit: Firecloud

The Cosmic egg was cracked and the kids gobbled it up and were left wanting more.

May I suggest maybe releasing a b–sides rarities album? Something with a dolphin on the cover.