Beyond Hell: GWAR's Blothar opens up about soldiering on after the death of Oderus Urungus (Playing Tuesday, Dec. 2, at Exit/In)
Witches Brew: On Lightning at the Door, All Them Witches offer up evil grooves for all the good boys and ghouls (Playing Sunday, Nov. 30, at 3rd and Lindsley)
Back in Black: Your guide to Record Store Day's Black Friday special-edition releases
Run the Jewels' tour landed them in St. Louis last night, the night St. Louis County Prosecutor Bob McCulloch announced the news that Darren Wilson will not be indicted for shooting and killing 18-year-old Mike Brown. Jewels' Killer Mike, who has been outspoken about the case over the last few months, started the show by giving a frank, emotional speech:
"We usually come on [stage] to Queen's 'Champion,' " he said. "I just gotta tell you today that, man, no matter how much we do it, no matter how much we get shit together, shit comes along that kicks you on your ass and you don't feel like a champion, so tonight I got kicked on my ass when I listened to that prosecutor. You motherfuckers got me today."
He starts choking up when he says, "You kicked me on my ass today because I've got a 20-year-old son and I have 12-year-old son and I'm so afraid for them."
If you haven’t seen godfather of punk and world-class performer Jonathan Richman play a show in the past decade or two, you might need a primer. For starters, don’t expect to hear much in the way of Modern Lovers tunes. The troubadour has been known to play perhaps one or two songs from his classic Massachusetts proto-punk outfit’s catalog — mainly just 1972’s “Old World.” But Richman’s set primarily features latter-day solo story songs like “O Moon, Queen of Night on Earth” and “No One Was Like Vermeer,” odes to concepts both grand and simple delivered while Richman wanders freely across the stage and throughout the crowd, strumming and plucking on his classical guitar between improvised bursts of banter. Backing Richman throughout it all is the seemingly telepathic Tommy Larkins, who glides along with the singer through the twists and turns, providing Latin grooves with impeccable feel. Larkins’ role is such a crucial part of the show, in fact, that Richman requests his drummer receive equal billing.
Jack White, "Parallel" (Dean Fertita cover)
"Would You Fight for My Love," the near-operatic latest single from the Third Man jefe and former White Stripe, has a swell b-side: an Americana-inflected cover of Dean Fertita's "Parallel." Multi-instrumentalist Fertita recorded the original, synth-tinged rock version of the song for Hello=Fire, the debut solo album he recorded in between gigs with The Raconteurs, The Dead Weather and Queens of the Stone Age. Fertita has taken over as keyboardist in White's touring band, a spot left vacant with Ikey Owens' passing in October.
Dear Advice King,
Like a lot of Southerners, I have a racist uncle. At every holiday gathering, without fail, he says something shitty about black people, or Native Americans, or Jewish people. You name it, he’s got something awful to say about them. So what should I do when he inevitably says something racist over Thanksgiving dinner? Should I politely ignore it and change the subject, like my family always does? Or should I shut him down? He tends to make a big scene whenever given the opportunity, and I don’t want to upset my grandmother.
—David P., Gallatin
Paramore singer Hayley Williams and Joy Williams, formerly one half of The Civil Wars, aren't related. But you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise, considering how they harmonize on "Hate to See Your Heart Break," their first collaboration in their almost-15-years-long friendship. The song originally appeared on Paramore's 2013 self-titled album. And this enhanced version will appear as a bonus track on an upcoming deluxe edition, which hits digital outlets tonight.
"I love that I got to sing this with someone who I have shared my pains and my stories with for quite some time," Hayley told NPR's Ann Powers. "I think of it as an ode to sisterhood. Close friendship between women who share their stories with each other and who lift each other up and understand one another."
Check out the video, filmed during sessions to record the new duet vocals at Santa Monica, Calif.'s Village Recorders, above, and read the rest of the interview here.
Ugh! Those Slipknot photos are terrifying. If you, too, are afraid of the scary men, here is a palate cleanser — Beyonce's new video for the song "7/11," where she jumps around in her underpants, rolls dice on a white girl's butt and proves she has more fun than anyone else.
I have watched this video about a dozen times since it came out Friday evening. I have tried to talk into my foot like it's a phone (I'm not flexible enough), I have tried to do that jump move where I balance on one leg and then hop through my other leg (I'm not coordinated enough) and I have scoured the Internet for that "All I'm Really Asking for Is You" Beyonce Christmas sweatshirt (it exists only for Beyonce).
All I want for Christmas is Beyonce's Christmas sweatshirt. Please say it'll be for sale, Bey. Make it so.
The nu-metal generation is well into adulthood, or at least 18 years deeper into stunted adolescence. Like all things '90s, there seems to be a groundswell of nostalgic revivalism for the sounds of Slipknot and Korn, who brought a little taste of Ozzfest, maybe even Woodstock '99 to Bridgestone Arena Friday night. Impressive a feat as that may be, nu-metal is still the embarrassing cousin of the metal family tree, and one that we got drunk and tried to relate to for a solid, ear-splitting three hours. It's a genre that's long prided itself on drawing from a broad spectrum of influences, yet arriving at a whole far, far less than the sum of its parts.
But you really can't blame the artists. Musical movements are products of their times, and nu-metal is no different. The best aggressive, hard music always thrives under oppressive, conservative climates and poor socioeconomic conditions for working people. Ronald Reagan's America gave us Dischord Records and Bay Area thrash. Margaret Thatcher's England spawned UK82 punk and the first three Killing Joke albums. It's perhaps no coincidence that Killing Joke's "Requiem" spun on Slipknot's between-bands playlist. And it's no coincidence that American hardcore finally got great again right after the 2000 election and 9/11. By contrast, Korn's genesis was just after Bill Clinton's inauguration. Over the next eight years of economic growth we saw a decline in the quality of heavy music. We started with disenchanted white guys in plaid flannel screaming about recession, alienation and corporate corruption. We ended the decade with hedonistic white guys rapping about doing it “all for the nookie" and breaking "stuff."
The songs sometimes sounded loose and fragmentary, like bags of broken glass, but the intense performances were anything but: The show just got hotter as the night went on, with the leader frequently standing to the side with an electric guitar slung across her hips, clearly delighting in the winding grooves. If anything, this three-night stand should show the band even tighter, while giving ample room to one of the best songwriters to call Nashville home in the past quarter-century.
Williams kicks off her City Winery residency tonight at 8 p.m. At press time, all three shows are sold out, but you can add your name to a wait list at the City Winery ticketing site. Now, bide your waiting time by watching the video for the Spirit cut "West Memphis" after the jump.
Five Knives, the official soundtrack of the vibrator section at Spencer Gifts, got caught doing their best (worst) Paris Hilton impression at a club appearance in Tampa last week. The local band, best known for wearing novelty contacts and bandanas, was performing a "DJ set" at #POUNDFridays, the weekly shindig where event names go to die, when Facebooker Khalid Battikh recorded the crew doing something that was maybe sort of almost generally DJing, but not. I guess there's some dancing, but it's mostly just awkward twitching to a prerecorded track. If this dancing were a food product it would be the congealed-lump at the bottom of a separated tub of Parkay, which is better than the DJing.
In the video, there's no mixing or back cueing or headphones or auto-synch or, you know, even pretending to do a thing that isn't that tough. Take it from me, a guy that's been grifting his way through DJ gigs for almost twenty years: A little bit of effort in the booth goes a long way. Nobody is expecting DJ Craze when they show up for Five Knives, but you could at least pretend you can dance better than a drunk aunt at a particularly sweaty wedding reception. You had one job, as the kids say.
The video (posted after the jump) eventually made its way to superstar DJ Deadmau5, who Tweeted his disdain directly at the band and thus set the EDM Twittersphere ablaze with Five Knives hate.
^^ The JNCOs of Cream comments ^^
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I have a legitimate question for Ms. Sneling. When you write an article like this,…