Madonna may be the modern mistress of self-reinvention, but Diana Ross did it first. The Detroit-born singer started with a bouffant in the early ’60s as one-third of The Supremes, harmonizing on girl group hits like “You Can’t Hurry Love.” In the ’70s, despite resembling an even more waifish Michael…
This first edition of Weird Al’s greatest hits came out in 1988, but the parodies are such familiar songs of their times that people of any age can appreciate them. Of course, his best-known parodies (“Fat” and “Eat It”) are here, but there’s also Al’s mutation of Madonna’s “Like a…
“The pig! The pig! Let’s go see the ‘World’s Largest Pig’!” It’s a rather windy Tuesday night in mid-October, and I have just spotted yet another attraction at the Arizona State Fair that I can’t drag my buddy B-Boy to just yet. Tonight, B-Boy’s all about Weird Al Yankovic, who’s…
Better than: That one time, at band camp.
Five things that truly blow my mind (in descending order):
5. Plexiglass.
4. Why the plural of “fax” isn’t “fux.”
3. Nostrils.
2. The idea that our whole universe could be the product of a “cosmic defect.”
1. March Fourth Marching Band, “Portland, Oregon’s premier surrealist big-band groove machine.”
Every week, we’re going to be reviewing a music DVD. We kick off with Twisted Sister’s The Video Years…Twisted Sister used to scare the shit out of me. When I was 8 years-old, I would lay on my bunk bed in the dark, blasting the Under the Blade album, imagining that huge, leather-skinned monsters with oozing eyeballs were going to come creeping out of the shadows to eat me.
Once you get past all the faux arachnids plastered on the outside walls and wade through the infinite spider webs that have snared several inflatable sex dolls, you’re ready to check out the salacious and sinister works at the “Monsters Menagerie” show. Check out fantastical works in a variety of…
The main difference between all the “Earth-friendly” artists that jumped on the Live Earth bandwagon (or flew to the concerts on fuel-guzzling private jets, in the case of the Beastie Boys and Red Hot Chili Peppers) and French death-metal band Gojira is that Gojira gives a crap whether it’s fashionable…
This compilation easily could serve as a “Greatest Hits” of the Phoenix indie-rock scene. The CD opens with “Various Kitchen Utensils” by Skybox, a band that relocated to Chicago a couple years ago but whom we still claim as our own because their brand of quirky ragtime rock is catchier…
All 16 of the stripper anthems here are old school, from the obvious (Rick James’ “Superfreak,” the Commodores’ “Brick House”) to the almost hilarious, like Samantha Fox’s “Touch Me (I Want Your Body),” and Clarence Carter’s “Strokin’.” Aside from the fact that there’s not a single Billy Squier song here…
Every time I’ve been around Eddie Kelly, the singer for Blessedbethyname, some beautiful woman has shoved her breasts in my face. Kelly works as a DJ at Centerfolds Cabaret on Peoria Avenue, and even though I’ve been trying to interview him in a “quiet place with few distractions” for the…
Live and Collective Soul: Placentas on the floor and a groove core as deep as the Grand Canyon.
Spandex tights? Check. Can of Aqua Net? Got it. Copy of Ratt’s Invasion of Your Privacy on vinyl? You betcha. Sounds like you’re locked and loaded for this week’s edition of Future Shock, which focuses on the often-outrageous genre of heavy metal. From dank and dirty death rock to glass-shattering superstars who’re known for their screaming talents, we’ve put together a list of some of the “just announced” concerts from a multitude of metal acts that will be visiting the Valley in the upcoming months. So strap on your leather pants, knock back a few cans of Schlitz, and get ready to rock out with your cock out.
This CD sounds like sitting in the back of a 1976 Dodge van, surrounded by blacklight posters, clouds of incense smoke, and stacks of 8-tracks. Musically, it’s like some time-warped orgy of Cream, Black Sabbath, and Electric Light Orchestra; lyrically, it’s all dragons, wizards, and cryptic cheesiness oozing over macabre…
There was a time, in the early ’90s, when there was no mosh pit I wouldn’t brave. I loved the sweat-drenched chaos, the primordial release of pent-up aggression, the feeling of being one with a motley mass of metalheads. I even took pride in my post-pit injuries. At one show,…
Rather than espouse the many virtues of Weird Al Yankovic’s live show, I’ve elected to let my inner child write a brief “review” of the spectacle and follow it up with an off-the-wall, exclusive interview I had with Weird Al a couple weeks before his Phoenix show.
Via Vengeance’s songs sound gritty, dense, and calculated. The rhythms are snappy and solid, with seamless, simple timing changes that often lead into even simpler guitar interludes, but show attention to composition nonetheless. Not that Via Vengeance is machinistic prog rock by any stretch of the imagination. This is raw,…
Shane Ocell has the biggest, hardest . . . callus I’ve ever seen. It’s the size of a small marble, sitting on the knuckle of his right middle finger. He cultivated the knot through his unconventional drumming style — holding the stick between his fingers while using the rest of…
Heavy Metal: A Box Set Review in Three Acts: Act One:
[Jo Momma’s living room. Some empty bean bag chairs are stacked against the back wall. A tapestry for Mötley Crüe’s Theatre of Pain album hangs above them. As the curtain rises, Pontius Arse comes running into the room, carrying a really cool box that’s made to resemble an amplifier, with a knob that goes to 11. He is followed by “Diamond” Blackie Rocket]
Since the rest of the blogosphere is racing right now to review Rainbows, I figure I’d be a sheep and do the same thing. Let’s do a time-lapse chronicle of the proceedings. First listens, of course. While addled by fatigue. And I haven’t checked YouTube or bootleg sites for which of these songs have been released before, so excuse me if some of this is old news. (I saw Radiohead in a high school auditorium in 1997, so I have cred.)
We’d like to take a moment to let y’all know that Future Shock is brought to you by “The King of Beers,” Budweiser; American Apparel; and Halo 3 for the Xbox 360. (Excuse us for a moment, we have our tongues stuck in our cheeks).
And just why have we whored out our blog to corporate interests, you ask? Well, we’ve been doing the underpaid music journalism thang for way too long now, and have finally decided to barter our street cred for a big fat paycheck, just like some of the musicians and bands that announced upcoming concerts here in they Valley over the next few months. In other words, this week’s edition of Future Shock is all about the sellouts, baby. This isn’t a critique of their musical talents, per se (as we’re fans of each and every one of these dudes), but instead is an outlining of those who’ve sold their souls to the company store.
Well, it finally happened. I got to see six Norwegians in sailor caps and chaps playing songs about erections and destruction.
I am talking, of course, about metal/punk/inverted glam/whatever band Turbonegro, a group that has an unbelievably loyal fan base. The devout are called Turbojugends, and they number in the tens of thousands worldwide. They dress like the band members, donning denim jackets with patches sewn on them and white sailor caps or army helmets. Sounds sorta like the Village People, I know, but let me tell ya: even the most flaming gay of the Village People would probably tighten their sphincters and run screaming from Turbonegro — or run laughing, because unlike the Village People, Turbonegro is funny on purpose. Also unlike the Village People, Turbonegro flat-out rawks.
We’ve kinda had something of a contentious history with the folks at AZPunk (www.azpunk.com) over the past few years. The misfits and miscreants who populate the local Web site’s notorious message board have been known to rip us a new one for any number of reasons (such as slamming us for covering local musicians or scenesters that they feel don’t deserve any ink). But just like parents of naughty little children, we love ’em all just the same, which is why we wanna plug tonight’s AZPunk Fundraiser at the Wok Star, the rock club inside Scottsdale eatery Chop & Wok (7136 East Shea Boulevard).
