The other week in the glossy edition of the Scene, Todd Snider said something about music, which is: "The thing I didn't go for about some of the early punk was the same thing I didn't like about some early No Depression music: If the only reason you're making this music is because you hate a different kind of music, then I don't know."
And while I like Todd Snider just fine, I have to say: Being against something for the sake of being against it is trite, but liking music because of what it's against is part of the fun! I liked Dead Kennedys because they were against Nazi punks, and I liked Dinosaur Jr. for being against being too cool for guitar solos, and I liked The Pixies for having one-note guitar solos as a big Fuck You to guitar solos, and I liked Young Marble Giants for being against macho rock, and I liked A Minor Forest for being against false metal, and so forth. In other words, I like a lot of music for what it's against. If you can't be against something, can you really ever be for anything?
According to a Facebook message I received (and verified via MySpace) from another Nashville musician, local singer-songwriter Tyler James has been tapped to join ever-growing indie-rock ensemble Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. James will assume duties as a touring keyboardist for a jaunt that will take him from festivals such as Bonnaroo and Coachella, to destinations as far reaching as Australia.
James does his regular Nashville thing on Mar. 5, when he returns to town to celebrate the release of his debut LP It Took the Fire, with a show at 12th & Porter.
So you know about this Plushenko guy? He's the Russian ice skater who won a silver medal in Vancouver and later claimed it to be a platinum. He also climbed on the gold-winner's podium spot and claimed he "forgot" he didn't win. Also, he drives a sports car for the rush; but it gives him not the rush he desires. Only skating. What an evil mastermind/baller. OK, I kind of need these Winter Olympics to end. It's a bad sign when my mom calls me to talk about triple lutzes and shit and I actually know what she's talking about.
Check after the jump to see what's going on this weekend. We've got Akron/Family, My So-Called Band, Eric Clapton, Spoken Nerd, a couple of fine-looking Haiti benefits, Telepath and plenty more. Read on!
I know that the Insane Clown Posse and their devout following of Juggalos are the lowest of low-hanging fruit, and that two posts on such psychopathetic nonsense is a bit much for one week, but come on -- the Insane Clown Posse made a movie, and ... it's a fucking Western. Check out the above trailer for Big Money Rustlas. It begs only one question: Will this contribution to the celluloid pantheon be Psychopathic Records' answer to Purple Rain, or simply the ICP's Hard Days Night? Discuss.
If Clapton is indeed God, then it's safe to say the righteous have relented in the battle of good vs. evil. Seriously. Have you seen the legendary guitarist's latest effort? A commercial for the Fender T-Mobile MyTouch 3G phone that features Slowhand chatting it up like a giddy teenager with blues legend Buddy Guy? As if the thought of these hall-of-famers whoring themselves out to corporate advertisers isn't cringe-worthy enough on paper, the reality is enough to make you junk your idiot box. While chastising Clapton for such trespasses in light of his past musical contributions may seem a bit pious, there is just something inherently icky about the blues imperialist -- whose estimated worth is already more than $170 mil, by the way -- going down to the crossroads to hawk cell phones. Not only is Clapton the voice of T-Mobile, he's the voice of a generation of Docker-clad dads who are sure to be spellbound when the 64-year-old comes to "rock" the Sommet Center with his trademark eyes-closed, mouth-wide-open, this-is-the-last-time-I-suck-dick-for-money guitar face. Fresh off the heels of a phantasmic Super Bowl half-time performance, Who vocalist Roger Daltrey will open the show with a set of his and other rock 'n' roll classics.
Coming at your face-plate at 159 miles per hour, it's Episode 14 of The Chris Crofton Show! As you can plainly see, they've got another logo. They have a few more in their pocket, so stay tuned for those. Crofton himself seems to think this is one of the best shows yet. I'm inclined to agree. Oh yeah, and "Swap and Shop" guy is back. Enjoy.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I should've known better than to have ever gotten my hopes up, thinking some twist of fate could stop those convalescent cockroaches of rock Aerosmith. If you're a regular Cream reader then you know I'd rather swan-dive into an active volcano than hear a new Aerosmith record or attend one of the artistic sacrifice rituals they call an Aerosmith concert. A few months back I expressed my disdain for the band and speculated about who they would cast to replace singer Steven Tyler in the wake of his sudden departure. Turns out Joe Perry and his sad posse of Social Security check-collectors have settled on Tyler's replacement: Steven fucking Tyler.
Sad news to report today, as we have learned that Chip Chilton, singer and guitarist for the '80s Nashville power-pop band Chip and the Chiltons, passed away last Friday, Feb. 19. Our thoughts go out to family and friends. The Chip and the Chiltons Facebook page has been converted to an online memorial, and there you can also find a link to download the band's cassette Where's My Cat. We are told there will probably be a memorial service of some sort, though we don't have any details at the moment.
Check out the slideshow for more photos.
Last time Jonathan Richman was in town, it turned out to be a bit of a head-cracking disaster for us -- so much so that when somebody knocked over a chair at the bar late last night we had a minor panic attack. Short of crash helmets and body armor, we were about as prepared as could be, though, having done a thorough overview of Mr. Richman's catalog, and actually showing up on time for once. We weren't nearly as prepared as we thought.
Mother Lode: Essra Mohawk, songwriter and former Zappa acolyte, gets the reissue treatment. (Playing Tuesday, 2nd at 3rd & Lindsley.)
Born to Be Wild: Akron/Family slim down to find a new look. (Playing Saturday, 27th at Exit/In.)
Coming to Snuff the Rooster: From angst to the bro-itone, the legacy of Alice in Chains lives on. (Playing Monday, 1st at Municipal Auditorium.)
Plus Critics' Picks like ya wouldn't believe on everything from Rae Herring to The Silver Seas, The Iveys to Jason Boesel.
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