A Very Raging Christmas – Crap Music Is Over, If You Want It

In a land far, far away, called Great Britain a yearly war wages every winter. In this magical Narnian Isle, music is still a viable commodity taken very seriously. Their denizens actually record new holiday songs every season in the hopes of having the top Christmas single of the year.

We cynics across the pond are fine to do with the recycled, rehashed songbooks – over the river and through the wood, decking the halls and all that. Why would you need MORE freaking Christmas? A trip outside for a few hours on Black Friday and we’re drowning in so much Christmas it’s enough to move to the Aboriginal outback.

But England doesn’t mess around. Music and Christmas are a very serious thing. I mean, they still have music programming on TV, AND the government pays for some of it. Can you imagine if our government gave PBS money to make old school MTV styled programming? I might actually still want to live here.

Yes, England gets downright fervent about music, specifically the ‘single’. Especially when it comes to the OZ like machinery of Simon Cowell and company, who pump out yearly soft rock balladeers with their contest shows like Pop Idol and X Factor.  Yes, we have our American Idol, but it pales in comparison to the juggernaut that X Factor brings to the UK every year.

I was treated to the wonders of X Factor this October when I was staying in London. I politely watched with some fervent friends over Sunday roast and found myself drawn in by a bigger, cattier, more sordid and maudlin type of idol where the judges mentor the contestants, take sides and cut each other down so furiously I’m surprised they’re not allowed swords onstage. I have to admit I did get a little hooked. OK, a lot. It wasn’t the music, which was mostly dreadful. It was the huge soppy spectacle of it.

X Factor Judges

But truly music is the loser in this scenario, if it’s nothing more than a soapbox stump for Rhianna or Janet to pimp their new album, in between green faced kids being forced to sing George Michael covers. The winner of this contest releases a single and that song, most likely, goes on to be the Christmas single winner, no doubt to be over played through out the holiday season and beyond, knocking struggling bands off the charts and out of our memories as the new year chimes in.

This year’s X Factor winner, pie eyed Joe McElderry is an 18 year old Geordie accented charmer with a lilting, soaring voice who is as sweet as a Disney cartoon heroine. Blech. They even chose for his first single, the Christmas single in question, to be ‘The Climb’, a Miley Cyrus cover. Jesus. Come on, England! Throw some tea overboard!

Well, Jon Morter for this revolting enough to do something.  Sick of the slick promotional big label machine and the ‘crap’ it pumps out, he decided to take a stand and protest by simply using social media. Jon made a Facebook page called RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE FOR CHRISTMAS NO.1. On the page he asked the fans to buy his favorite band’s 1994 single, Killing In The Name Of, instead of X Factor Joe McElderry’s new Cyrus single “The Climb”.

The kid, Joe McElderry, seems nice enough – benign in a musical theater, syrupy sweet kind of way. He wasn’t even my choice to win the thing – I would have gone with the song and dance man Olly Murs, if I were holding a UK green card, but there I go, tipping my hand as someone who has seen enough of the show to care.

The fact is, there has always been pop music that was put together in a board room. Girl groups formed in the offices of the Brill Building weren’t exactly an organic creative process but still some of the best songs ever sung.

So some pop music can’t be denied, even if the singer didn’t pen the song themselves…but the pervasive problem today, it seems, is the onslaught of boy bands and mall makeovers done on any kid with half a voice who are put on diet pills and thrust into the spot light like Three Octave Barbie.  In a month their CD, filled with tuneless drivel, is overstocked at Walmart and outselling the grassroots band that actually writes music.

If you throw money and PR at a turd, the public will spend money on it. Sheeple are Sheeple, as the D Mode song goes…and the loser is not only the smaller musician out there, but ultimately the music listening public.

Enter Rage Against The Machine. Now they were invited to the party, unbeknownst to them, not because they are a small unknown indie rock band. No, they are a huge successful act on Sony, the very same Goliath label that Cowell and McElderry call home. But RATM started from humble beginnings and won each of their hundreds of thousands of fans, one by one. Not from a television show contest, but by playing small gigs and then larger ones. By touring relentlessly. By making music. And yes, by being political loud mouths and standing up for the little guy.

In an interview with UK paper The Sun, RATM frontman Tom Morello stated: “It is a historic campaign to save the UK pop charts from the abyss of bland mediocrity and we’re 100 per cent behind it. It’s really amazing and completely a grassroots uprising. It’s not like the band put this forward, it was the people. I found out about it when some friends of mine from the UK texted me.”

As the race between the two tightened, things got more heated. And weirder. Cowell kept accusing Rage of being bullies. Then the Facebook page went down and suddenly thousands of fans were inexplicably lost. And of course there were rumblings that this was all just an underground ploy of Sony executives to drive up sales of both singles – a major payday for Sony either way.

However, to show that it wasn’t a Sony plot, Morello promised that the band would reunite and play a free concert for London fans if they were to win the number one spot. This earned him some scorn and harsh words from X Factor kingpin Simon Cowell, and fellow X Factor judge Cheryl Cole, a former member of all girl group Girls Aloud, who was Mc Elderry’s mentor on the show. Cheryl stated “If that song, or should I say campaign, by an American group is our Christmas Number 1, I’ll be gutted for Joe and our charts.”

Cheryl Cole and Joe McElderry on X Factor

Morello flattened Cowell and Cole’s jingoistic pleas for support of Geordie Joe.

“The X Factor song was written by a cabal of highly paid professional songwriters and was already made a hit by a pre-teen artists from the United States. That’s nothing I would feel too proud about hoisting the flag up on.”

“The X Factor suits have been pulling out every dirty trick in the book to get their single to No 1. They’ve been pressuring the big retail stores over the price of the single and there were some shenanigans that happened with the Facebook page where it went down mysteriously on the second day.

“Some of the things they are doing seem almost desperate and that’s because they’re afraid of the people.”

As the deadline neared for the tally, Joe was in the lead by a narrow margin. Tom Morello took to twitter and urged his online fans to download on itunes and help push Rage over the edge. They upped the ante by stating that they would be donating their proceeds from their Christmas single to charity. No Sony payout for the people who helped put Rage in the number one spot.

It looked as if Joe had the Xmas single sewed up, but in a Christmas miracle come from behind victory, the American revolutionaries toppled Cowell’s teen idol and took the number one spot. Davey had conquered Goliath!

Of course Cowell was ‘gutted’ for his protege, McElderry, but was gracious enough to concede the spot to a song with well over fifteen ‘fuck you’ s laden in the lyrics. Well done. Cowell supposedly even offered Jon Morter a job doing marketing for his music label, though that might just have been the PR equivalent of licking his wounds.

Whether or not you think that this contest of wills will actually change the stranglehold that Cowell and X Factor has on music, the fact is that this small group on Facebook has managed to raise 83,000 pounds (approximately $132,700) for the charity, Shelter, they’ve helped to break  two UK chart sales records…and it’s made music history and social media history.

It’s also an example that we do not have to sit idly by and listen to crap. Crap music is over, if you want it. If you don’t want it, turn it off. If you hate the television you keep seeing, turn it off. Or make your own. Vote with your dollar, your time and your energy. If you don’t like what is out there. DO NOT give it your time or energy. “I am listening to it cause it’s on” is no longer a viable option as we enter 2010 a supposed enlightened era. If you don’t like it, do something. If you can’t create an alternative, then at least turn it off.

When asked if they’d attempt to overthrow the Christmas No. 1 again next year, Jon and his team admit that it probably wouldn’t work again nor would they want it to. But they are most proud of the fact that they were able to motivate people to take a stand against mediocrity and change something in pop culture history.

On top of that, raising money for a good cause and making friends with their favorite band of all time…well that’s just part of the best Christmas gift ever.

Heath Ledger’s Last Trip Through The Looking Glass In The Imaginarium Of Dr. Parnassus

As another great installment of the CINEMA TUESDAYS, Flux and Nike Sportswear at the Montalban Theater held an exclusive VIP benefit screening of filmmaker Terry Gilliam’s The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. The event served as a benefit for the Australians in Film Heath Ledger Scholarship in honor of the late actor.

As people gathered in frigid LA temperatures and huddled around complimentary boxes of Aussie fave Tim Tam cookies and warm espressos, the Australians In Film committee announced that it was donating the evening’s proceeds to the scholarship. A panel of judges will be determining who will be awarded the scholarship, including one of the film’s stars and Ledger’s friend, Jude Law. The movie hadn’t even begun and handkerchiefs were dabbing at swollen eyes.

Jude Law as Tony #2

I was excited to see a film by one of our most daring and dazzling filmmakers and from a man who has had every possible production nightmare beset him. Lets not forget, his opus film The Man Who Killed Don Quixote was plagued by so many problems – including a natural disaster- that the movie was shut down.  It eventually became the topic for the documentary Lost In LaMancha – a truly chilling film that keeps even the most adept filmmaker awake many sleepless nights. So for Gilliam to pull this film off in the face of such a tragedy is already a true tribute to Ledger and to grit, determination and the creative spirit.

The movie follows an immortal man, Dr. Parnassus, who travels in an old dilapidated circus wagon, trying to entertain the people of contemporary London with his vaudevillian stories. His hidden agenda is to also save a few souls along the way, in order to repay a bet he lost with the devil. Dr. Parnassus is saddled with his immortality – a storyteller and showman who has become obsolete, as no one wants to hear his stories anymore. His antiquated Punch And Judy styled stage cannot compete with London’s bright lights and dazzling technology. Dr. Gilliam err, I mean Parnassus, knows this and feels lost in a world where he will never grow old but will never be new.

Veteran stage actor, Christopher Plummer is great as the fallen monk, Parnassus, bending to all the mortal pressures of drink and wagers. Plummer is joined by his traveling gypsy companions: model Lily Cole, adequate as his fiery red head daughter and stunning in the gypsy meets fleet street costumes. Verne Troyer is cast as the Doctor’s voice of reason – never thought I’d type that sentence. Andrew Garfield almost steals scenes from the veteran matinee idols he is pitted agaisnt as the barker, Anton. Tom Waits chews up the scenery as the devil in Joel-Grey-Cabaret clothing, Mr. Nick. And there is quite a lot of scenery to chew in a Gilliam film.

Tom Waits as Mr. Nick

But the elephant in the room is the role of Tony. Heath Ledger’s last role in The Imaginarium Of Dr. Parnassus is infamously incomplete. That he had three of the world’s leading actors fill in to bring his role to fruition is a testament to what a great actor he was and what a great hole he has left behind.

In fact, though the film is chock full of fantasty, whimsy, scenery and ideas (oh you could trip over the grand ideas), the film seems lonely when Ledger isn’t on screen. Ledger’s first appearance in the film as Tony Liar, is hanging from his neck from a London bridge, an auspicious start to a movie that was almost never finished. It is a shocking fist glimpse of the actor and one that takes your breath away.

Heath Ledger as Tony

Ledger’s Tony Liar character, based partially on Tony Blair and all his duplicity, is a millionaire who raises money for a children’s charity and is ultimately exposed as a fraud. Interesting that Ledger chose this role, as he was always felt fraudulent in the Hollywood spotlight. Eschewing the superstar role, Heath preferred to disappear in a role and simply be an actor. Even if he was greater at it than he ever gave himself credit for.

The Imaginarium in question is a sideshow mirror, which when paying customers pass (or are pushed through it) are transported into a fantasy world which reveals their deepest desires. For a small child it is a giant set of a Candy Land video game. For a rich matron, it is a gondoliered trip down a Nile filled with giant Blahniks and Faberge eggs. Of course there is a battle for the person’s soul at the end of this journey. Dr. Parnassus and Mr. Nick both wrestle for the person to choose the right path. Tony often accompanies these souls and attempts to guide them correctly, sort of as a sexy river Styx escort. As it is each individual’s fantasy and imagination, Tony appears different to each of them. This is how Gilliam was able to solve his leading man crisis.

After Ledger’s death, three box office heart-throbs stepped up and stepped in for Ledger, filming the fantasy sequences in Gilliam’s re-imagined imaginarium scenes. For one woman, her Tony lothario was a lusty Johnny Depp. For another, it was Jude Law climbing the ladder of success, and for Lily Cole’s Valentina, her rascally Tony was Colin Farrell in rare bad boy form.

It is a testament to both Gilliam’s film making and Heath’s reputation to bring all of these people together to create one immense Tony Liar. Unfortunately neither Depp, Law, nor Farrell, while all three of them fun to watch and immensely charming, have the depth that Ledger had.

This Gilliam film is a grand and bright acid trip in the truest sense – there are strands of Munchausen, Time Bandits, and my favorite Terry film, The Fisher King, but there are also nods to classics like Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, King Lear, and of course the great Faustian bargain. Each player in this pantomime has one. Money or love? Life or death? Good or evil? The very same things that plague us daily as we go through our lives, Gilliam plays out for us on this traveling stage that his characters cart around modern London.

It begs the question:

How many of us cart around these questions with us everyday, and how many wrestle with it until it kills us?

It’s hard not to become overly philosophical while watching Heath’s character wrestle for his life when the world knows that he lost that battle a year ago. I was strangely hit hard by the death of Heath Ledger – someone I didn’t know at all.

I don’t normally emote on the passing of a celebrity -  someone I’ve never met, but as the credits rolled on this film, I found myself moved to tears. Maybe, as a filmmaker, I was just so relieved that the film got finished. Perhaps as a performer they were tears of frustration and loss of/for Ledger.

I suppose I felt a connection to someone who was such a strong life force, who attacked his work with conviction and passion. I also can identify with wrestling with insomnia and the seeping black moods that accompany the creative process. The fact that Heath achieved great success in his career is something to admire. But the fact that he pushed himself beyond that and strove to be a better actor, a better artist than what was really required of him – that is where my heart goes out to him. It guts me that this process was part of what led to his demise.

That this film is about a man who has sold his soul for eternal life is eerily prescient. Heath Ledger’s star will live on forever. I, for one, would rather have him among us, living in obscurity.

If you’d like to donate to the Heath Ledger foundation, please visit: http://www.australiansinfilm.org

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus opens in major cities on December 25th.

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.

Demented And Sad, But Social – John Hughes/Breakfast Club Tribute By Flux In LA

Demented And Sad But Social – John Hughes Breakast Club Tribute By Flux in LA

By Ali MacLean

By all outward accounts, I lived a charmed high school existence. An A student with long honey colored hair, I played soccer and was captain of the cheerleading squad. We even competed at a national level, which got our picture on the front page of the Boston Globe sports section and on national television. So, I had it pretty sweet. Right? Yeah, right.

Anyone who has seen a John Hughes movie knows the halls of a high school are shark- infested waters that are difficult to navigate. The same was true for me. I lay awake at night worried about everything from what to where, what was going to be on the test, which bitch would be bothering me in the corridors, who to eat lunch with and other terrors of the high school caste system. At most times I felt like a cast member of Heathers, rather than John’s sweeter films, but having his movies gave me strength.

Sure, other teen film auteurs pointed out that the geeks have a hard time of it in school. But John was one of the first to point out that maybe the Claires of this world had just as miserable an experience as all the other kids. Thank Fucking God someone was reading my diary! You mean I’m not the only one who is moody?  It’s ok to be depressed even if you’re sort of smart or pretty or athletic? There are other kids out there feeling ennui of French existentialist proportions? It’s OK to want to blow up your high school with your mind?

Being a cheerleader didn’t really mean anything to me, inwardly. It never occurred to me that I was a popular kid, just like it never occurred to me that other kids were going through the same thing I was. That is, until I saw John’s scripts so eloquently spell it out. Hughes had a knack for getting inside a teen’s head and letting them speak and emote without it sounding like some WB drivel with Paula Cole in the background. Hughes characters, as archetypal as they were drawn to be, were funny, quirky and all too real. It was entirely possible and understandable that I could relate to both Claire AND Alison in the Breakfast Club. OK, I related to Bender, too a little bit. But my rebellion would come a bit later.

Part of Hughes’ talent is that each of his films created characters that everyone could relate to. I felt such a kinship to Samantha in Sixteen Candles, the perennial sophomore whose family doesn’t seem to recognize her misery and pining for Jake Ryan. Or, what seemed like an even bigger crime, they forget to recognize her own birthday, a horror that I’ve over compensated for in such an extreme, that I demand that my birthday be relegated to national holiday status by all friends and family. No, really. October 14th. Mark it down.

Another Molly I related to was crafty Andie. Growing up in posh Newton, it was pretty easy to feel if you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Basically if you didn’t get a new beemer for your sweet sixteen, you were poor. All the Esprit in the world couldn’t save me from my fate. So I started thrifting at an early age. My friend Rima and I would hang out in Harvard Square and pick up strange bohemian trinkets and later fashion them into jewelry. Soon enough I was sporting torn jeans and army fatigues and wearing combat boots with my cheerleading skirt. That didn’t go down well with the Heathers. But what they thought didn’t matter. I would think of Andie with her shears cutting away at pink tulle, dreaming of a boy named after an appliance and trying to gently let down the best friend. It is a triangle scenario that would reappear many times for me in the future: the seemingly unattainable guy who actually might like me vs. the platonic friend who makes me laugh, who might not be so platonic. Decisions are tough but what’s important is that it’s handled with grace…

Possibly my first Hughes obsession during my childhood was Ferris Bueller. I must have seen that movie ten times in the theater and countless times on cable. Partially the mystique was Broderick’s winsome ability to get away with murder and a bit of it was probably the movie’s ability to annoy my parents who were school administrators and professors. Of course, years later, my father admits Jeffrey Jones was probably the best teen comedy foil ever put on film. I have to agree. While I rooted fro Ferris every bounce, wink and mile clocked on the alpha, I do admit I connected deeply to the oft irritated sister Jeannie. Who hasn’t felt a sibling rivalry ratcheted up to a frenzied pitch? OK perhaps the zany parade hijacking and jailhouse scenes may have been omitted from your own family tales but I felt for Jeannie, the least liked Bueller family member. Ferris was just so fun, so popular, so friendly. And Jeannie…wasn’t. Playing by the rules got her nowhere and whining about it got her nowhere fast. Even her cat and mouse game of getting even didn’t pan out. I feel for you Jeannie. Even when I wasn’t the one in the wrong, I was the one sent to my room.

However, the film that everyone comes back to…the one that was recently aped by a documentary film’s ad campaign (American Teen) is The Breakfast Club. The idea of detention is a bummer. But detention on a Saturday? With a bunch of kids not in your clique? I mean, omigawd! Part of what makes the pathos so strong is that though the characters are stereotypes, they are fully drawn out. How else could I be each of these people? I certainly was seen by some to be the bitchy popular girl, Claire. But I identified with the Zeppelin flannel wearing burn-outs like Bender. They probably were the first to listen to grunge! Who hasn’t felt isolated and alone like Allison at some point in their life? I’m most definitely competitive and as a cheerleader competing at a national level, I could relate to Andy’s pressure to win. I even felt the enormous pressure the geek, Brian felt. Not to make a science project or lamp work. But taking Latin classes before school to boost my SAT scores didn’t really do anything for my street cred.

Tomorrow night in Hollywood, the FLUX film series at the Montalban will allow us all to once again become the Jock, the Princess, the Brain, the Criminal and the Basket Case.

In a tribute to John Hughes, guests are being asked to email in photos of themselves from high school and are encouraged to dress in their most fabulous 80s outfit for the screening. Some of use will pull our cloths out of mothballs and others will go over to Urban Outfitters and buy new versions of 80′s disasters that never should have been re-created. Or created in the first place.

A slide show of the emailed high school pictures will be projected through out the night.

This special evening is part of Cinema Tuesdays, a monthly series curated by Flux celebrating innovative film at The Montalbán, Nike Sportswears unique retail and special events theatre in Hollywood.

Tuesday August 25th, 2009

7PM Reunion
8PM Screening + After-party with Lady Sinclair and cocktails by Belvedere Macerated.

Nike Sportswear at The Montalbán
1615 Vine Street
Hollywood, CA

The Voice Project debuts in Hollywood – Pass It On!

Tuesday night was the first official The Voice Project fundraiser event.

The Voice Project Foundation is a not-for-profit public benefit corporation. The foundation’s mission is to raise awareness and financial support for those using art to enact meaningful social change by using art for said change.

Hunter Heaney and I conceived this organization back in January, and it’s been the little group that could, thanks to a group of amazingly talented, well connected, hard working and passionate people who have joined the cause.

The event took place at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel’s Tropicana pool bar during David and David’s Nightswim event.

Also celebrating that night was Alex Ebert (Ima Robot) and his new band Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. A listening party of their new album took place earlier in the evening.

DJs Chris Holmes, Ana Calderon and special guest DJ Devendra Banhart treated the guests to tunes and hospitality.

Liz Miller, Alycia Astudillo and I manned the Voice Project suite inside.

People came in to watch our VP video, read leaflets and purchase Voice Project t-shirts, designed by the talented Ramsey.

Some special guests showed up to help further the cause, including 30 Rock’s Jack McBrayer, Lonely Island’s Akiva (I’m On A Boat) Schaffer,

Tom Green

DJ Poet from the Black Eyed Peas

and even Lindsay Lohan, who jumped onto the decks and played some Nancy Sinatra.

It was a fantastic night where a lot of money and awareness was raised and good times were had.

Proceeds will go to our inaugural project, which is to support the women of Northern Uganda in their efforts using music to lead the Peace and Reconciliation efforts in the region of Northern Uganda, Eastern DR Congo and Southern Sudan.

Women of Northern Uganda; widows, rape survivors and former abductees have been banding together in groups to support each other and those oprhaned byt the war and the diseases so prevalent in the IDP camps. They are singing songs. The lyrics let the former ‘soldiers’, i.e. children abducted by the LRA and forced to fight agaisnt their own families, know that they are forgiven and they should come home. The songs are passed by word of mouth out into the bush. It is working. For the first time in 22 years, the region has a reach chance at peace.

The Voice Project is an attempt to support these incredible women.The strength, the message and the art of these women can benefit the world and in return, we can help carry their message, provide basic necessities and the tools to further develop their own communities and businesses.

Music and voices that carry, they can end wars. These incredible women have shown us that. Pass it on.

If you’d like to get involved with The Voice Project please visit www.voiceproject.org

Back To The Future With The Juan MacLean & The Ali MacLean

When I heard that The Juan MacLean was in town, I knew I had to talk to him, not only to chat about his new album The Future Will Come, being part of the uber cool electro mafia: DFA Records,  but also to finally figure out how the hell we are related. Two MacLeans from Boston in the music scene? There’s just no way this man doesn’t share a branch from my tree. I headed over to the Avalon during Juan’s sound check to get a glimpse bef0re the big performance at Control later that night, and have some pre-show tea.

ALI ON THE AIR: Hey, we need to figure out our family tree. You’re from Boston…originally Gloucester right? My Dad’s from Gloucester. What if we had the same dad, like on Springer or something where the man has two families.

JUAN: I know. Well,  my Uncle lived in Gloucester. I actually live in Dover, NH, about an hour from Boston. But I tell people I’m from New York. When you’re doing an interview in Berlin you just don’t get into explaining New Hampshire. I say New York.

AOTA: But you don’t say Boston, I notice. Hmmm.

JUAN: I’ve always felt unrelated to the music scene in Boston. I lived in Providence for a while and I liked the music scene there much better. I like the Middle East in Boston. I mean, with all the colleges, you’d figure it’d be huge but it’s not that great. But I find that I’m mostly commuting back and forth to New York. I have a couch in the DFA offices.

AOTA: Do you prefer the road or working on the studio?

JUAN: For some reason every time I go home it’s so demoralizing. There’s not this thing every night where you are the center of attention. I have a lot of work at home in general with remixes and stuff so I’m really busy. The thing that is a hassle about it is that I’m always alone when I’m DJing. It gets old after a while. I went to Europe in the winter for three weeks and for two and a half wasn’t anywhere where people knew English. It wears on you after a while.

AOTA: You have a lot of stories on your site about airport security and how they love to stop you and check out your…package. You seem to get searched a lot more than the average guy. Was Miami for real?

JUAN:  The Miami one was a 100% true story.  I thought they were joking. But the guy said that it’s such a cocaine trafficking place that people will tape drugs in their groin. The way they went about it and what they said was so insane. The woman kept pointing at my crotch and saying “There’s too much”.

AOTA: At least she thought there was too much. It could be worse, for instance if she thought the opposite.

JUAN: Yeah. But it’s like, ‘Thanks, I think’. They got the guy who is lowest on the totem pole to check me, and he kept saying on our walk to the room ‘Why didn’t they get the gay dude to do this!’ Hey, we’re not going on a date! Man! The problem is, I’m going through security with all of my records…

AOTA: With a sticker on them that says ‘Death From Above’.

JUAN: We quickly switched the stickers after 9/11…but they always check my record bag without fail and they swab my case for cocaine and it always comes up positive. I don’t even do coke. For someone who doesn’t do it, it’s all over my stuff. I pick it up on turntables and stuff in the clubs.

AOTA: Do you use vinyl or Serato mostly?

JUAN: I only use vinyl. I hate Serato. I just like vinyl in general – the tactile nature of it. I don’t understand looking at a list of MP3s and picking out a song that way. But leafing through records…there’s an emotional response in seeing them. People can mix flawlessly with Serato in a way that you just can’t do with vinyl. I feel like it’s made this artificial standard of mixing. I carry it around in my laptop in case my records go missing, but I don’t use it.

AOTA: There seems to be a glut of DJs out there these days. You’ve been doing it for a long, long time…

JUAN:  I get paid to DJ more than I get for the band playing live music which is really frustrating. There is this trend of people going on blogs and downloading a bunch of crappy mp3s and instantly you’re a DJ? What once was DJ etiquette or DJ culture or the craft of DJing has been lost. Showing up and being a headlining DJ and the person before you playing a hundred times harder than you’ll ever play and even playing your own records – people playing MY records right before I go on to DJ? You just totally blew me out of the water, man. Instead of kids buying guitars nowadays, they get the stuff you need to ‘be a DJ’. You can buy it pretty easily and it doesn’t really require any skill anymore.

AOTA: And now there’s DJ Hero coming out.

JUAN: Oh great. It’s a double edged sword because DJ culture is so much bigger than it was ten years ago, so it means that I DJ constantly.

AOTA: Do you prefer playing as opposed to DJing?

JUAN: Right now I’m so into playing with the band. Its all I want to do. But I do get the same gratification from DJing. If it’s done properly…A lot of people have a play list and they’re gonna play the same set mo matter what’s happening. But it should be like playing off the crowd. When that’s happening, and it’s going well, I like it as much as playing  with the band.

AOTA: You’ve said that people with a rock background make more interesting music than people whose only come from is electronic music.

JUAN: People who just come from electronic background tend to be genre specific and I think make uninteresting records. People who have made my favorite music tend to come from a live music background. Like Bookashade.

AOTA: A lot of artists are afraid to admit to influences/ They’d have you believe they just hatched from nothing and became an entity. You’re willing to say on this album you listened to Human League or Grace Jones.

JUAN: It’s almost become a game. People like to go through and pick out where we “stole” things from and somehow it’s become a source of derision on message boards. There’s a type of guy – and it’s always a guy – who speaks endlessly about how ‘oh he stole the piano part from this song’. Well, that’s what people have been doing since the beginning of pop music. Not only that, but we’re talking about electronic, sample based music here. So it seems odd to me that people would get so bent out of shape about it. I don’t think anyone cares except a few of these guys that spend way too much time on the internet.

AOTA: There’s always some blogger with something nasty to say. You’ve actually had the balls to respond to some of them.  Your blog is actually quite entertaining.

JUAN: At one point I thought it was overtaking the music. We’d be on tour and people would come up and say ‘Oh I love the album…but the BLOG. It’s HILARIOUS!’ When I’d post on Myspace I couldn’t believe how many people would subscribe. It’s insane. I was approached by a couple publishing people about doing a book. I was a writing teacher for a while so that’s something I’ve wanted to do.

AOTA: So, if there was no more electricity, that could be your creative outlet?

JUAN: That would definitely be my next choice. It might be what I segue into next. Or when I get too old to do this.

AOTA: Oh, come on. You wont be like Alan McGee or BP Fallon? DJing into your twilight years?

JUAN: That’s the thing I like about dance music in general. Unlike when I played in an angry rock band…when I turned thirty, I was like “I don’t want to do this anymore.” With dance music you can keep going. There’s a tradition of people that are older who are revered.

AOTA: Right, like Suicide or Silver Apples. Now, do you think you need to be angry or depressed or in pain to be creative?

JUAN: Oh god. I’ve thought about that. I’ve actually read a book about it by this guy Peter Kramer who’s from Providence. It’s called Against Depression. I’ve been prone to depression my entire life and its common with…

AOTA: MacLeans?

JUAN:Ha, my family, yeah, and with creative people. People often say if you could get rid of depression then what about artists like Van Gogh? What would happen to their art? Well, maybe they would have done better things and have been even more productive. And that’s how I see it. People who have truly been depressed don’t glorify it. For me, when I’m in that mode, I can’t do anything, so it’s not useful or productive. Things that sound depressing in my music are probably more from choices I made where things haven’t gone very well.

AOTA: This album is less angry or depressive. You and Nancy are doing duets. There’s a relationship going on. It’s less about a robot and more human. Maybe more…Wall-E?

JUAN: It’s a definite narrative that we tried to end on a happy note like with Happy House. We tried to end each side of the record with something uplifting.

AOTA: Is it influenced by more uplifting times? Or a promise of some? Yes We Can?

JUAN: For Nancy and I, when writing about our personal lives, we don’t write on the macro level. Obama isn’t explaining stuff to the girlfriend that things are going to get better after the tour. Nancy played in LCD Soundsystem so a lot of this is what being in a touring band can do to a relationship.

AOTA: So then after you get off the road, you remix a lot so you can stay in one place for a while?

JUAN: No one really buys an album now. There’s a lot of income that you lose out of from not selling cds and stuff that gets generated from that so you have to tour. People download music for free, but they will pay to come to shows. So I can play much bigger shows.

AOTA: You have a stage persona which is sort of like your blog persona.

JUAN: Being involved in the 90′s indie rock scene, which was the grunge scene – the rock star as a regular guy. Kinda like Kurt Cobain who was like ‘This is just the way I am. There’s no pretense to it at all.’ I’ve always been more into people who were like “No, I’m an entertainer/Rock Star!” who had a persona. All of the blog writing, well at least fifty percent of it is truth and a lot of it is embellishing. I’m more concerned with entertaining than I am with using my music as my diary.

AOTA: Have you gone as far as the Marc Bolan route where you’ve worn your own face on a t shirt?

JUAN: Well, there are Juan MacLean shirts with my face on them that’s I’ve worn around. Embarrassing. I do it more to be a douche bag than anything else.

AOTA: Before I leave you to change into your own face t shirt…have there been any patchouli pranks or shenanigans this tour?

JUAN: There’s this terrible cologne called Drakkar Noir. We’d all joke about it and then I actually bought some. I kept spraying it on DJ’s keyboards and he was like ‘Man! Someone’s wearing some strong cologne! The monitor guy or someone. Whew!’ It kept happening and finally one night he figured it out. Drakkar Noir. It’s like a fancier step up from Old Spice.

AOTA: I think one of my grandfathers wore Old Spice. Keeping it in the family…

Space Oddities – Looking For Rock In All The Weird Places

Space Oddities – Looking For Rock In All The Weird Places

by Ali MacLean

In this town, it’s easy to get jaded. Every club or party these days seems to need to top some pinnacle of bacchanale… a regular night with drinks and music just wont do. A warehouse rave is just ordinary. It has to be louder, harder, faster: rollerskating parties, dodgeball parties, plastic surgery parties, parties where you’re in a video game, parties where you come as your spirit animal, parties in a subway car, parties in the basement of the Ramada, Edward Scissorshands parties, staring contest parties…the weirder the better.

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And now rock shows are going by way of parties. It’s not enough to just stage something in any old raw space or polo field. First Fridays sets up songs next to stuffed Woolly Mammoths and dinosaur bones. Tom Morello raged against deus ex machinas in a Venice Church. DJ Squeak E Clean has dropped it like it’s hot at a Hollywood car wash while fashionista DJs The Misshapes have spun for the well heeled in an airplane hangar, complete with planes standing by.

It’s time to step it up to the realm of absolutely bizarre. Rock show in a cemetery? Check.

Glasvegas are known in Hollywood more for their cataclysmic buzz and for disappointing a sweaty Coachella crowd by their last minute cancellation. Tough it’d be odd to see these Scots in a searingly hot desert rather than in pissing rain. Perhaps that’s why their playing at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery just fit. But a show at a cemetery? It has to be some sort of sacrilege or at the very least a nuisance to those who haven’t quite crossed over. And seeing how out of control Angelinos can get when their basketball team wins. Do we really want to start a riot on a hell mouth just so some indie kids can rock out in a new, exciting way?

Traipsing over graves to get to the gig, I was already feeling guilty for looking for fun in a place of death. Maybe I’m not so goth or emo after all. I’ve been interested in seeing Glasvegas since NME editor Conor McNicholas recommended them to me last year, but with all the huge hype surrounding them, I was expecting to be disappointed.

The staid, upwardly mobile hipster crowd, waited patiently as the Glasvegas wake was delayed by nearly an hour. Finally, fresh off a stunt/gig at another strange venue (Las Vegas wedding chapel), James and Rab Allen took the stage in the Masonic Lodge, by walking down the crowded Hall and waiting for a crew dude to pull back a curtain hung on a wire. This crude set up revealed a gothic, yet etheral stage complete with an old wurli, a grand piano, white roses and a giant angel ice sculpture with a red broken heart. A perfect marriage for the Glasgow boys’ moody and soaring songs. Though some people in the crowd wondered aloud whether or not the rest of the band would join them, James and Rab kept it acoustic-ish and intimate, only pausing to bring up pianist Paul Cantelon for a rendition of “Stabbed”.

Glasvegas In the Masonic Lodge

James, channeling both Strummer and Costello in dark Ray Ban sunglasses, repeatedly asked for the lights onstage to be brightened as he tried to make out the keys of his Wurlitzer in only the glow of a film strip showing old movie stars and a rain of glitter. I suppose the shades didn’t help this, but when faced with entertaining food for worms, I guess I might do the same. Tunes like “Geraldine” and “Daddy’s Gone” sounded better than the rocking originals – the whole show had a Leonard Cohen vibe to it. A man across the aisle from me complained that it wasn’t a full band, I wanted to yell at him “It’s called NUANCE! Adjust, motherfucker!”. Where I was expecting to be disappointed, I was actually swayed and haunted. It was fitting to hear these Scottish dirges on a gray, misty graveyard evening. Though the moisture did give one pause – my friend next to me remarked that she was nervous that the giant ice sculpture was melting onto the instruments and amps and might cause the Allans to be electrocuted. They could be killed. “Well, they’re in the right place, if it does happen.” I replied. Sometimes location can be the x factor of the evening.

ice sculpture of death

When I was invited to see a special acoustic performance with Bat For Lashes, I jumped at the chance. The Glasvegans had whet my appetite for some UK atmosphere and I couldn’t wait to see Miss Natasha in a dark and smoky club or out of doors under an old street lamp where the mist and fog could swirl around her layered synth songs.

Wait, she’s playing where? At a jeans store. On the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. In the middle of the day. For a Neighborhood Social. Really?

Lucky Brand Neighborhood Social

As the kick off for the first Lucky Brand Neighborhood Social, Lucky lined up live silk screening by Giant Artists, denim painting by William Lemon III and provided fair food snacks for the people who stopped in. The inner sanctum of the store was reserved for a wrist banded crowd, to be treated to DJ sets by KCRW’s Jason Bentley, plus a Bat For Lashes set before their big show at the El Rey.

KCRW's Jason Bentley

Natasha Khan and her supremely talented keyboardist, Ben Christophers, took the makeshift stage which was wedged in the back of the store. People lined up and sat on jeans bins waiting for the elfin Khan to utter a sound. Khan, dressed in a gauzey pink blouse and sequined headband was instantly copied as girls in the crowd slid strings and scarves across their bangs. Ben, looking very Gold Rush/The Sting era in a long john shirt, vest and braces seemed perfect to play turn of the century xylophones, harpsichords and zithers that he whirled around like a mad scientist in a music shop. (note: see interview below for more on Natasha’s gear!)

Ben Christophers

You could hear a pin drop in between Natasha’s lilting songs, which the singer commented on, nervously. “You can talk in between songs. Be rude. It’s ok.” But the small crowd was silent and with rapt attention as if beholding the glory of a living unicorn.

Natasha Khan - Bat For Lashes

And that she is, or more closely resembling Kira from the Dark Crystal playing the keys. Her voice lilted daintily and then crecendoed into a powerful yelp, taking after her predecessor, Bjork. Natasha ended the quick half hour set with a lo-fi version of Daniel and then floated away backstage, er I mean, into the stock room.

Natasha Khan and Ali MacLean

A stock room seems hardly the place to hide away such a talent. But then again spaces and places are the name of the game today. Perhaps the thrill of the nu show is to find an oddity to jack up interest in the artist. frankly neither of these acts needed that extra push. They could’ve played in a brick walled condo in Barstow and still held as much interest.Oh dammit. I’ve just given promoters a new bad idea. Please, guys. No Barstow condo shows…

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One Small Step For Ticket Brokers – One Baby Step For Our Wallets.

A whole day of discounted fees…go crazy, America…

Live Nation Launches “No Service Fee Wednesdays”

June 1, 2009 Live Nation is cutting some ticket fees and surcharges on Wednesdays throughout the summer in order to bolster ticket sales in a tough economy. The “No Service Fee Wednesdays” 24-hour sale will kick off June 3 at 12:01 a.m., offering tickets with no service fees on any Live Nation-ticketed amphitheater show, only at LiveNation.com. The deal will be ongoing on Wednesdays throughout the summer, but for now it’s good only on the lawn seats. Fans can expect to save around $9 to $12 per ticket. The promotion will cover hundreds of concerts at 43 venues around the country, and about 5 million tickets will be available in the sale. “Summer concerts are a great escape in these tough times,” said Live Nation President and CEO Michael Rapino. “Starting this Wednesday, Live Nation and the world’s top artists are making it less expensive for fans to see their favorite bands by waiving service fees on over five million tickets at www.LiveNation.com. We wanted to do something that had never been done before and ‘No Service Fee Wednesdays’ provide incredible value to millions of music fans to attend the hottest concerts this summer.” Artists playing at the 43 venues covered by the promotion include Aerosmith, Coldplay, Phish, Nickelback, No Doubt, Creed and Kid Rock. Despite the recession, Live Nation said in May that ticket sales for summer concerts are actually ahead of last year’s pace. However, there’s plenty of room for improvement: Live Nation says that about 40 percent of all concert seats go unsold.

Smooth Sailin’ – Yacht Rock Putting The Hard On In Chardonnay

When I was little, I used to pour over my Dad’s records, which were mostly divided into two camps: Beatles and Rolling Stones. I loved the colorful Beatles record jackets, especially Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Peppers. The Stones records intrigued me; I knew the zipper on Sticky Fingers records was something I wasn’t supposed to touch, but I wasn’t sure why. Between Bowie, Queen, some K Tel classics and my Star Wars records, these were in heavy rotation.

Curiously there was a third pile, which I didn’t quite get. The Doobie Brothers, Loggins and Messina and their ilk, with their long hair, Hawaiian shirts, and high-pitched harmonies, annoyed my post-toddler glam rock sensibilities and thus, those records remained on the shelf.  I guess between Chewbacca and Ch-Ch-Changes, I didn’t have time for the pastel suited dudes who looked like guest stars on a fey version of Miami Vice. But with my up bringing, you’d think I would have…

I grew up summering on Cape Cod, where the adults wore coral necklaces and collars up at clambakes and spoke about the Vineyard (Martha’s) and Vicodin. I was basically bred as the preppy spawn of Yacht Rock, yet it repelled me. Like hair metal, I looked down on it until later on in life, when I could appreciate both the kitsch value and sonic delight. I can now fully appreciate those deliciously smooth sounds.

Cut to the new millennium and mid-naughts. A resurgence in sampling, especially the ever-popular Michael Jackson, has led to a lot of smooth music being used in contemporary tracks. The YouTube comedy series “Yacht Rock” becomes a massive cult hit. Popular electro dance band, Chromeo, appear, un-ironically, on Daryl Hall’s internet program ‘Live From Daryl’s House‘.  Yacht Rock’s captain, Michael McDonald, recurs as a running punch line over several seasons of 30 Rock and then makes an appearance singing on their finale episode. Andy Samberg raps about the pleasures of being on the great big watery road with a nautical themed pashmina afghan.  As the Marina music clans begin putting together reunion tours and retrospectives, yacht rock parties start popping up around Hollywood. It’s a ‘Wassup Yacht Rockers!’ world. Everyone seems to want to rock out on the open sea.

Enter the Knights Of Monte Carlo. They play hard-core soft rock and ‘put the ass back in class and the hard on in chardonnay’.  The Knights of Monte Carlo are distinctly rich, gorgeously handsome, flawlessly refined sextet dedicated to resurrecting the best music ever to have hit the airwaves– 70’s soft rock. Because of their incredible talent and unparalleled style they frequently attract chic and pulchritudinous admirers from around the world, making Knights of Monte Carlo the most popular and internationally sought after soft rock tribute ensemble of all time…this is all self-professed.

I regale a friend about this group and convince her to dress in tropical splendor and accompany me for this three-hour tour. We decide that we need a yacht club persona. My friend chooses the soccer mom sensitive Cheryl Connerson, while I choose Debbie Finkelstein. Half way to the show, I decide to change the name to St Germaine, knowing a Finkelstein can sometimes have issues with the advisory board at a yacht club.

At the Key Club, a nautical flag sign denoted a VIP Entrance (actually the elevator), which whisked us aboard a room decorated with a Tequila Sunrise backdrop, and life preservers. Men in white linen suits and mirrored sunglasses beckoned us to come aboard for some pina colada and wine spritzer specials. For those not into health food, but into champagne, Knights Of Monte Carlo bass player, Brad Bayliner, held court at his International Cheese and Cracker Tasting – complete with gouda, Carrs, grapes and a Wall Street Journal. Yuppies Ahoy!

With tongue firmly planted in cheeks, the sextet took the stage and posed, postured, and karate kicked and flexed their way through a set including Doobies, Ambrosia, Loggins, Cross, Air Supply, America and Chicago. Can you Dig it? Yes, I can.  But wait, there’s more in this K Tel show. Toto? Yes, Toto too. Was the set missing some McDonald? That’s what a fool believes – he was aptly represented. A show sans Hall and Oates? No can do. The Knights can’t go for that, and neither should you.

The Knights were totally smooth, save for a few Rolexes and rope bracelet in danger of getting in the way of their fret work. Hey, that’s what a little Riuniti on ice will do to a guy. While Doc Spyders crooned the Escape song and shook his ass, Montague, dressed like a judo master, gave a shiatsu massage to the congos, elbows and all. During the drum break, Doc did yoga poses as Brad lit up a tobacco pipe.

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Next the Knights sequed into some Fleetwood Mac, a rousing rendition of Go Your Own Way which would have made Lindsay and Stevie at the Staples center across town, very proud. There were hits for the ladies too. Somebody’s Baby, Summer Breeze, Easy Like Sunday Morning, Ride Like The Wind and Africa, made the ladies sway like they were finding their sea legs at high tide. Knights drummer, Bobby Colada, even dedicated a song to Debbie St. Germaine (nee Finkelstein) noting how hard it can be to get into the yacht club with their (ahem) restrictions. Then the band launched into Rosanna. Meet you all the way, indeed.

Rounding out the night with some Robbie Dupree and Gerry Rafferty, KOMC’s Rico Morgan, was a master on the Korg keys and saxophone. Nelson Borealis wandered out onto the deck amongst the passengers for some smooth electric guitar. Brad gave a cheese update. Doc pulled up his white socks from his deck shoes and leapt over the mic stand; a finale of their white man choreography. I haven’t danced, or laughed, that hard in a while.

The normally staid preppy crowd whistled and yelled for more as if we were watching Bon Jovi in ’88. But the Knights had such a long way to go to make it to the border of Mexico. So they bid us all a bon voyage and asked us to come get smooth next Thursday for the continuation of their residency. It’d take a lot to drag me away from them.

Key Club – Thursday nights. Ya mo be there.

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Ali On The Air interviews Mike Doughty on Antiquiet

Mike Doughty led the one-of-a-kind Soul Coughing in the 90s, one of the original “alternative” rock bands, and one that really tested the limits of the genre, with improv jazz, odd samples and glitch-punk experimentation.

Soul Coughing broke up in 2000; Doughty was battling a heroin addiction when he wasn’t battling band mates over credits and publishing money. Doughty however, didn’t break pace, continuing on as a solo artist, selling handmade CDs from the stage at gigs before running into Dave Matthews at Bonnaroo in 2004. Matthews professed to being a fan of both Soul Coughing as well as Doughty’s solo records, and Doughty was eventually signed to Matthews’ ATO label.

ATO released Doughty’s Haughty Melodic to critical acclaim, and its single Looking At The World From The Bottom Of A Well brought more success than is usually expected of a kicked-the-heroin-and-gone-solo front man of a sort-of successful defunct 90s alt rock band. And Doughty has been going strong ever since. – Skwerl

Below is an interview with Doughty – party two, really of a dialogue that began at the Vlaze Studios a year ago. Mike is on tour with his bassist/guitarist/cellist Scrap for the Question Jar Tour. Definitely check it out if it comes to your town.

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