Critic's Notebook

Page the Village Idiot

Tempe one-man band Page the Village Idiot has been hosting Monday nights at Hollywood Alley forever, so I'm trusting you're quasi-familiar with his brand of onstage lunacy and some of the subtler intricacies of the 'lectric ukulele. But maybe you need to take him home to see what makes his...
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Tempe one-man band Page the Village Idiot has been hosting Monday nights at Hollywood Alley forever, so I’m trusting you’re quasi-familiar with his brand of onstage lunacy and some of the subtler intricacies of the ‘lectric ukulele. But maybe you need to take him home to see what makes his stupid songs tick people off. His second CD, . . . it’s no fun being one dimensional, is flat-out fun, even when he goes after easy targets like the music business and dead rock stars. On the latter, a rocker cause-of-death roll call, he reminds us, “Elvis took drugs because his friends were leeches,” and “G.G. Allin ate too much shit/Leave Freddie Mercury out of it.” My favorite is “My Car’s on E,” where Page is literally rolling on Ecstasy with his auto, loving the world and mistaking the turn signal sound for the new Moby record. (www.pagethevillageidiot.com and myspace.com/ptvi)

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