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!

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?

South By Skulldiggery – Band of Skulls Continue To Conquer The US

SxSw was a (not so hot) mess. If you combined the party hounds from the Super Bowl, Mardi Gras and Spring Break and confined them to a six block radius…and then tried to add some showcasing bands to the mix, you get a pretty good idea of the mayhem.

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:

Serato Is Not A Pasta – DJ Intervention Starts Now

I’ve written many times before about the difference between a legit DJ and the hobbyists who like the idea of having their playlist heard on a Friday night for a little cash in their pocket.

If it’s true that ‘Anyone Can Play Guitar’ then it’s even more true that anyone can DJ, especially when you can download Serato for free…but forget beat matching. That rarely even enters into the equation anymore. In today’s club scene a dilettante can get paid four or five thousand dollars and show up with their i pod just because they fucked someone famous and the promoter thinks thats cool and bitchin and shit.

OK, the novelty of seeing the cast of Gossip Girl fumble around with a mixer might be an initial draw but then what? I’ll tell you what. If it’s a nightclub with a dance floor, the real DJ has to come in and save their ass and make sure there’s actual music playing.

Now, not all venues have to have banging house tunes. Many bars and clubs these days want a lo fi, bring-your-own-stuff-to-spin atmosphere, and that’s cool. But the difference is: no one is being paid obnoxious amounts of money for something they downloaded off itunes a few hours before.

I’ve been hired to spin at certain clubs around Los Angeles, mainly because I know music. I’ve been asked to spin records (yes, I use vinyl) in between bands performing at venues…and even though I have been on air at a few different radio stations, I don’t really consider myself a working DJ. On air personality? Yes. A DJ? Not really.

Do I love to search for records? Sure. I like to go to Counterpoint and flea markets. I’ll drag boyfriends and family members to vintage shops and dusty record bins while on vacation until they beg me to stop. However, I don’t make special crate digging trips to Japan or Israel or Brazil like Pete Rock or Cut Chemist do, for the SOLE PURPOSE of collecting rare records. That is LOVE of the craft. That is why those guys should be hired to do the job.

Pete Rock crate digging for vinyl gold

And then some dick promoter is going to pay Peaches Geldof a shit ton of money to “DJ” their party?

When I see the amount of hard work someone like DJ Z Trip or Rhettmatic has put into their careers, only to see some trust fund kid with a chip on his shoulder and a personal paparazzo by his side, breeze by and get flown all over the world for 5 and 6 figure gigs…when I’ve seen that same trust fund fucker literally plug his i pod in at a venue and then walk away from the DJ booth to pose for pictures and pound drinks…it infuriates me for the hard working DJs out there.

Z Trip's first love

I’m not saying that not every celebrity sucks at DJing. Carlos D from Interpol has been DJing for years and only uses vinyl. It seems to me he has a real love for it and puts a lot of time and energy into it. Therein lies the difference. Are you in it because you love it? Or are you doing it for the photo op? Cause most of us can tell, you know.

Club owners: Stop paying good money for shitty product. You want the cast of Twilight to DJ your party? Fine. Don’t pay them. They’re not DJs. Give them a bottle of Grey Goose and set them up in a booth in the corner. You can take a photo of them standing near the DJ booth for the starfucker page on your website and leave the DJing to someone with chops.

Festival bookers: Really? Six figures for a DJ who’s crap?  We’re not that high. Stop it.

Last fall, after another night where Z Trip had to follow another “DJ” train wreck, he took to twitter and ranted which I have to admit, I egged on and on. Our tweets ultimately gave me the idea for this film…this is part one of an ongoing series of DJ INTERVENTION.

If you like it, pass it on to all of your friends who may need some help. We know you’re out there and we want you to get the help you deserve…

Or you can vote for it here on Funny Or Die:

DJ Intervention, Part 1 – watch more funny videos

Part Two to come soon!!

Two Sonic Love Letters: Findlay Brown & Sade

Forget candy hearts and wilted flowers. The way to really get to the heart of another is through the power of music.

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:

Funny People…For Reals – SF SketchFest Delivers Comedy For Connoisseurs

The 9th annual SF Sketchfest is wrapping up today, spanning three weeks of laugh-o-lympics, led by a mix of the top name comedians and under the radar funny people who are just about to break.

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:

Why I Don’t Give A Crap About Jersey Shore

Since the mid nineties, reality television has become the new wave of entertainment.

It has reshaped the way we think of television – they even had to create a new Emmy category for it, because you know we can’t over look the real contribution a show like Amazing Race has made to our society.

There is some reality TV that is redeemable…but other than a few shows here or there…The Dog Whisperer, the Loud’s on An American Family…I find most of reality television repulsive.

Aside from the more obvious reasons, one is that I work in television, and I’ve seen a lot of my friends, very talented writers and actors, lose work because their shows have been replaced by mindless crap.

Now, not all TV shows that were on the air prior to the reality boom were prize winners. I’ll admit there was some real trash and real boring banal crap. But it seems that the networks today are in a race to create the worst show ever. It’s the ‘Springtime for Hitler’ contest come to life.

VH1 is a prime example. Once upon a time, VH1 was a network that I worked for. They aired music programming, an occasional comedy variety show or game show, and the hit documentary series Behind the Music. Now VH1 is in a contest with itself to give America a cold sore.

If I have to read about another rock bus show laden with desperate skunk haired Jerry Springer rejects, vying for five seconds of herpes fame… It’s vomity and dangerous. Let’s not forget how VH1‘ s vetting process, or lack thereof, turned deadly last year when a Megan Wants A Millionaire dating contestant murdered a woman (who turned out to be his previous wife) and threw her in a dumpster. Oops.

Yeah, I’m a bit of a snob. I came up through the ranks with some amazingly talented improv actors and comedians who would challenge me daily to be a better writer, performer, filmmaker…a better person. Even if our material was sometimes raunchy, our work ethic skewed more Wes Anderson than WWF.

So each time I see a girl from the Hills on the red carpet, I feel bad for an actress I know who is still struggling. Every time I see a commercial for Wife Swap, I think of my award winning writer friend who still temps.  When I see Snooki doing panel on a talk show, it’s like a paper cut to SAG, WGA and oh, every other creative union I can think of.

So, every time someone says to me,

“Don’t you just love Jersey Shore?”

I say:

“Fuck you, no I don’t. ”

And I immediately get an argument…like I stepped all over Schindlers List or some great work of art.

Come On People.

What has become of you? Have you been eating Craisins so long that you can’t differentiate between a TV show and a turd?

Here are the 5 most given arguments:

“But, it’s fun!”

No, it’s not. I wouldn’t ever go to the Jersey Shore. Not even to be ironic. And you probably wouldn’t either. And don’t front like this is some wonderful Nat Geo glimpse into a world you knew nothing about. You never WANTED to know about this world. On purpose. It’s Jersey.

“But they’re sooooo dumb/lame/ridiculous!”

Yeah. A lot of people I come across are dumb. I try to move away from those people as quickly as possible, not spend a half hour of my time with them. I want to spend time around people who are inspiring – who are smarter than me…not people who make me question procreation.

They’re not even an entertaining stupid, like Laurel and Hardy or Three Stooges stupid. To me it’s just your average run of the mill, plebeian, local yokel stupid. Why do I want to give that my attention? Why do we, as a society, want to reward that? I don’t go to monster truck rallies. Why do I want to J Wow?

“Well, Ali, it’s popular anyways, you might as well give into it.”

Um, yeah. Like swine flu? That’s a really great idea for enjoying something. Everyone else has hopped on the stupid train, so I should too. That will make me run even farther away from it. To me that argument has just made Jersey Shore the teabagging of television.

“You need to lighten up.”

Totally true. In fact it’s my New Year’s resolution. But I’m sure as fuck not going to do it watching a bunch of sorry assed wasted people that have nothing to add to my life.

They don’t make me laugh. They don’t make me think. They don’t really do anything except…what? Advertise Ed Hardy, laziness, and date rape? If I want to lighten up, I will choose something like Craig Ferguson whom I’ve discovered recently, I really like. Or 30 Rock, which makes me laugh consistently…or The Green Room, a new show on Showtime, which I think is going to turn the talk show genre on it’s ear.

“There’s nothing else on television.”

This, sadly, might be true. I’m not even sure what Jersey Shore goes up against in it’s given time slot. But I am aware that there are upwards of 700 digital channels and there is a strong possibility that there is nothing of note on. I can give some other suggestions aside the ones above: older episodes of Extras and The Tudors are great. House is a good show. The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are both some of the best television being made right now. 24 is like a new action movie every week, if you like that type of thing…not your cup of tea? Try this…turn off the TV. Go see some live music. Go to your local theater and see a stand up or some improv or a play. Can’t afford it? Talk to your family. Don’t have a family? Try reading a book.

You see if you keep watching crap, they will keep making it. And writing Us Weekly articles about it. And feeding you super size portions of it. And then Perez Hilton gets richer and music gets worse and The Rock makes a sequel to The Tooth Fairy and our legit theaters close and then they stop teaching art in schools because, really, what’s the point?

So, no, I don’t give a crap about the Jersey Shore. And neither should you.

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’.

2010 – The Year in Review…In Advance

It started in September.

I got email after email from publications asking me for my ‘best of the year’ picks and ‘best of the decade’ choices. And then there was an onslaught online, on TV, on the radio, and in print…what’s left of print, that is.

‘Best of the…’ ‘Top Ten’, ‘Top Twenty’, ‘Top Fifty’… the ‘Top of the year’, the ‘Top of the Decade’…ad nauseum.

The year wasn’t even over and we were already rating the songs and films that have been created, comparing apples to oranges. Then it got weirder. Best tweets. Best viral videos. Best broken marriages. Best reality show melt downs. Best political failures. Best new babies born. Best real housewives you’ve never heard of.

If it happened on a grand scale, we can slap a number on it like a pig at the county fair and smugly call ourselves an expert…because that’s what a lot of us journalists, comedians, writers and bloggers are paid to do, right?

But then, suddenly, there were best of lists written by EVERYONE.  I’m glad to know that people all over are enjoying Miike Snow or Radiohead, but when butchers and bakers and candle stick makers are publishing their Best of 2009 lists, it kind of dilutes the magical lists of whatever the fuck Pitchfork or Spin puts out there. If Paste Magazine posts their fifth favorite movie is Amelie and then 20,000 other people tweet the same thing within five minutes, then does precious Paste even make a dent? No wonder magazines are dying.

And then there’s the question that I’ve been aching to ask. Who cares? Your close friends might. If you are a top critic, a few fellow editors might. If you mention something obscure you might earn some “oh yeah, I totally forgot that one!’ points.  If you can write something interesting about your favorites, then you are a gifted writer or comedian and your talents really should be used elsewhere…like on television. Seriously, TV really needs some better writers.

So what’s with all the list making? Must we constantly analyze our past pop culture? Can’t we just box it up and send it into space for other species or our descendants to discover? Can’t we move forward and create the new? The next?

Everyone is entitled to blog, tweet and have an opinion and social media has given everyone a voice. That is the wave of the future. So perhaps it means the death rattle of the ever present Best or Top lists. I mean, hasn’t VH1 beat the living  ‘I Love The’ hell out of it? I was actually assigned a best of list…and then eventually declined to do it. I removed myself from the rabble and decided to once again, look towards the future.

Strangely enough, a few days later, I was contacted out of the blue by Barb Powell, psychic to the stars. Barb doesn’t know me at all, but found my blog and asked if perhaps there wasn’t something we could work on together…like she he had read my mind or something.

Barb Powell is a psychic from Western Canada, who started with a small local client base but is now popular in Los Angeles, and has worked with the cast of shows such as The Ghost Whisperer, Haunting in Connecticut, Brothers and Sisters and The Mentalist…can she predict that Simon Baker and I are meant for each other?

Barb works in a very specific way – she doesn’t need a client to ask a lot of questions, because she gives answers to questions you haven’t even asked. Barb offered to do a mini reading on me and without knowing a thing about me personally, nailed a specific health issue I had been dealing with. Color me impressed.

Before I could ask her questions about the future of music, movies and media,  she already knew what I was looking for. And then some.

Here’s a little bit of what you can expect for 2010:

Good news for people who like their music free…The big labels will continue to get it wrong and eventually cause a big crash!

I think they will get it wrong by pouring money into stopping piracy and legal matters instead of focusing where they should perhaps use subscription type of music channels, etc in order to download.  I think in the next year to two years we will see a crash and they will then HAVE to re-organize.  However I believe that someone will come in and build up independent artists who are good of course but where there is a new way of doing things by subscribing to a site and downloading whatever, whenever they want.  This would be outside the actual music industry or RIAA and how they do things.  In another word..music will be free.

Who will this Indie Robin Hood be? That is unclear. But so far the job is available, so Silverlakers and Williamsburgers apply within!

As far as the Indie film world, Barb sees strides for filmmakers who’s pockets aren’t lined with Avatar type dollars.

We will see an increase with independent films, for sure, what with some of the most popular and cheaper films that have become a success.

Good news for the new legion of Wes Anderson types out there who want to launch their own Bottle Rocket. But they will still have to battle Big Hollywood. However with 2010 studio offerings like Hot Tub Time Machine, it might not be hard for up and comers to win at the box office and beat the majors.

Sigh. Hot Tub Time Machine. Really John Cusack? Next time you’re thinking of doing a movie like this, let me know. I’ll come stand outside your window with a boom box playing a list of reasons of why you will soon be Rob Schneider if you don’t stop this nonsense.

On the topic of music mediocrity, Barb reports:

We will see some upset for the Nickelback lead singer…the band does well but we will see a fall out later part of 2010 due to addictions….but will bounce back in 2011 for an awesome comeback record.

I will wait with baited breath for more from them…people are ready to listen to more pop songs sung by the weird art school girl, whose gender was the biggest mystery of 2009. And her hate spewing internet Svengali will get a reality show – perhaps his crowning glory?

Lots of great things for Lady Gaga career in 2010 including a TV special. Perez Hilton (famed blogger) will have his own reality show although health will become an issue.

Poor Perez. I’m sure many will come to his bedside to wish him well. After GLAAD came down hard on Perez (himself gay) in ’09 for his anti-gay slurs and his trash talk, perhaps he’ll change his ways?

I’m not holding my breath. I wonder what Perez will draw on Miley’s face when it’s reported she is with child?

More news for the Miley Cyrus fans and watchers.  There will be pregnancy rumors once again and they will turn out to be true in 2010.

Another blight on the small screen will be more Sarah Palin. Not sure this is a prediction as much as most of America unable to stop her PR steamroller, but nonetheless it’s apparently about to happen, times eleventy. Just a warning in case you want to cancel your cable subscription in advance.

We will see more of Sarah Palin on TV in late 2010 early 2011…talk show.

Sarah Palin talk show. I just threw up in my mouth. What will her show’s ‘book club’ feature, aside from her own book? Pop ups?

Barb has predicted a lot of celebrity deaths, both expected and scarily unexpected. I’ve chosen not to list them all, but one, I thought I could safely mention without any tears being shed…

This isn’t a Hollywood prediction but interesting just the same…Charles Manson will die.

Maybe this will clear the way for Roman Polanski to return to the US? And perhaps maybe many of the grizzly man indie guitarists of LA will stop emulating his long bearded look and his quest for a harem? It didn’t work out well for Charlie, guys…

Two major highlights Barb has predicted for 2010 in the media, one uplifting, one disconcerting.

Major media involving China/Japan but more so China in regards to war.

War with China is scary…and 24 hour news coverage by cable news outlets is outright terrifying. Hopefully both diplomacy and real journalism will prevail.

Singers/Actors unite for the environment to promote saving the ocean and rain forest.

If we ever needed a new Geldof (Bob, not Peaches.) to step up and create a new World Aid, the time is now.

French/American company The Hours recently started the Tck Tck Tck campagin to save the environment and there are many others.

Now is the time to unite in this cause. I, for one, would be proud to be a part of this.

Barb has made many other predictions about celebrity career triumphs and failures and marriages and divorces. Seems like it’s going to be a chock filled year. She’s even said I’m going to go against type and get cast in a serious acting role:

There will be an ongoing role in a series that reminds me of CSI or Law & Order type of show where it seems you play a detective or bad ass type of woman who gets the bad bad people.

I’m so looking forward to kicking some bad, bad ass!

So what’s your biggest prediction for 2010?

Follow both Barb and me on Twitter at @aliontheair and @mediumBarbP  and tweet us your top 2010 prediction with the hashtags #aliontheair #barbpowell.

My favorite answer will win a free reading with Barb!

Until then, have a great and list free New Year!