My Imaginary Visit to the Hard Rock Park

When I was a kid, my two cousins and I thought Myrtle Beach was actually called Murder Beach.

We were scared to go there, and the fact that our parents would try to diffuse our fear by saying things like, "At least it sounds nicer than Nag's Head or Kill Devil Hills," did very little to abate our apprehension.

Over the past 20 years, I figure I've played in Myrtle Beach with Widespread Panic more times than I care to remember. And I remember all of the gigs, from the earliest at The Afterdeck - basically an outdoor deck connected to the strip club known as Thee Doll House - to a massive gig at the local raceway. Most recently, our venue of choice has been the House of Blues in North Myrtle Beach.

During our last three-night stand down at the House of Blues, I was invited to check out the Hard Rock Park, an amusement park that had just opened a few miles away run by the same folks that own the Hard Rock Café and all the other mass-marketing mess associated with that particular brand.

I'll admit it: I was curious and a little bit frightened at the prospect. After all, nothing had put the fear into me more than wandering around the casino at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas a few years ago and seeing everything from Keith Moon's drumsticks to Joan Osborne's dress encased in glass like holy relics for all the tourists to drool over. Okay, maybe Keith's sticks merited it, but not Joan's dress or Vince Neil's collection of women's undergarments. The whole thing felt cheap and sickened me to the core. In my mind, some things are sacraments and others are just dirty and mundane. The corporatization of the music that made me who I am just felt wrong...kind of like most organized religion does to me. Despite my gut reaction, I looked up the Hard Rock Park on the web in anticipation of a possible visit. I was appalled, but not surprised, with what I saw:

• "Led Zeppelin: The Ride" is the big thrill-coaster where riders race at speeds up to 65 mph all to the tune of "Whole Lotta Love." I'll bet Page and Plant made a pretty penny on that deal, but wonder if Willie Dixon's estate ever got its due.

• "Nights in White Satin" is the haunted house at the Hard Rock theme park, which begs the question: was anything the Moody Blues ever did considered the least bit frightening, except possibly their brief appearance on MTV in the 80's?

• There's a bouncy house called the "Punk Pit" that advertises "slam dancing for the whole family." Now that's something unusual.

• There is even an attraction called the "Roadie Stunt Show" that allows onlookers to watch a hapless roadie on his first day of tour. Fascinating I'm sure to just about everybody, unless you're one of the lucky few who set up gear and deal with prima-donna rock stars for a living.

• Perhaps the most intriguing attraction is called "The Magic Mushroom Garden." Seriously. This is a place where children of all ages can climb and play on soft, colorful mushrooms. I guess it's no worse than the infamous spinning teacup ride at Disney World that I was so fond of as a child ...just without all the projectile vomiting.

After checking out the website, I went to bed conflicted over my pending visit to Hard Rock Park the next day. Everything I loved about rock music had been co-opted into utter silliness like some kind of heretical cartoon....and all for the profit of someone who at one time probably loved rock ‘n' roll as much as I did. And worst of all, it was neatly packaged and "fit for the whole family!"

Whether it was my own mixed emotions about visiting the park, or something freaky I ate, my dreams that night were plagued by nightmarish visions of other "attractions" I might encounter should I decide to go. Thus, in all good humor, here's what I remember from my imaginary visit to the Hard Rock Park in Myrtle Beach:

• After a few drinks at "Bonham's Vodka Bar" (23 shots, minimum), proceed immediately to "The Randy Rhodes Airplane Experience" and try to buzz the tour bus.

• For a little more down-to-Earth experience, give "Keith Moon's Destruction Derby Bumper Cars" a shot. Just make sure you aren't dressed as his limo driver!

• The park's creators are very concerned for the safety of their patrons so in front of every thrill ride is a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ronnie James Dio that says, "You must be at least this tall to shout at the devil on this ride!"

• Getting tired of those screaming brats? Drop them off at "Gary Glitter's Baby Sitting Service." Don't worry about a thing: the kids are in good hands!

• Be sure to visit "The Iggy & the Stooges Funhouse," consisting of a long, dark hallway filled with broken light bulbs and peanut butter. If you make it out unharmed, a lucrative publishing deal and commercial licensing opportunities await!

• If you really want a scary experience, try "Jerry Garcia's Deadhead Tour Express Train," a forty-five minute ride though a bad acid trip all set to the tune of 12 different poorly recorded bootleg versions of "Dark Star" playing AT THE SAME TIME. Free Ben & Jerry's ice cream during the drum solo!

• Towels are provided free of charge, but no sun block is needed if you want to take a permanent dip in the "Brian Jones Memorial Swimming Pool."

• Be sure to bring a handkerchief as you stroll through the memories in "Mark David Chapman's Gallery of Shooting Stars." Pow!
Besides the more obvious rock ‘n' roll rides, there are also a few intellectually stimulating attractions for the indie-rock shoe gazers in every crowd:

• Check out Wayne Coyne's one-man performance of Hal Holbrook doing Mark Twain's monologues. The quirky and cerebral white-suited leader of The Flaming Lips adds his own spin to Holbrook's revered reading of America's foremost humorist by performing inside of a huge, clear plastic gerbil ball.

• Try your skill at the "Axl Rose Midway of Difficult Performers." Games like "Find Jeff Mangum," "What Kind of Band is Built To Spill Anyway," and "Will Ryan Adams Actually Show Up?" test your mental prowess and teach kids valuable lessons. You could even win your very own Wynona Ryder kewpie doll!
And realizing that all kinds of emotional stress can occur during a visit to the amusement park, management proudly offers certified therapeutic counseling in the Psych Ward:

• Arguing with your spouse? Just ask Sid or Nancy for some sage advice for couples!

• Feeling depressed? Kurt or Elliott will talk you out of falling on that butter knife!

• For those with really deep-seeded problems, we recommend several sessions in the sandbox sanitarium with Brian. For best results, be sure to wear a colorful Hawaiian surf shirt!

Lost in the park? Be sure to see one of our many tour guides dressed as Sufjan Stevens, who will compose a topographical song on the spot to help you get to where you're going!

Need a bite to eat? Scattered throughout the park are several "Elvis Presley's Blue Suede Diner," where visitors can ingest the South's most artery-clogging fare with free Metamucil chasers for the olds and Ex-Lax for the young. If only the King had known about the wonders of regularity, he might still be with us today!
And don't miss the park's thrilling main attraction: John Entwistle's Roller Coaster Tour of Las Vegas. Start off with your very own heart condition, high-priced escort, and eight ball of cocaine in your penthouse suite and end up in the county morgue! Don't worry, your longtime bandmates will go ahead and start their tour without you!

It's kinda ironic that this last attraction was the final stop in my imaginary visit to the Hard Rock Park. After all, it was at the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas where John Entwistle spent his final hours. Perhaps he had a premonition of the future of his legacy and that vision was the Hard Rock Park in Myrtle Beach. Or maybe he decided to check out early the only way he knew how: like a real rock star.

God bless you, John!

DAS

Dave Schools blames his strange affection for submarine movies on the 20-plus years he's spent in a tour bus with Widespread Panic. When not blogging for BLURT or playing bass in front of thousands of screaming fans, Dave likes to dance...tap dance.

Photo by Josh Miller

I'm Not Giving Obama A Free Pass, Neither Should You

Dear Friends and Bloggers Alike,

Long time, no post!  "What gives?" you ask.  Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have been working on a new Anti-Flag record, or maybe it's because all those "Saved By Zero" car commercials finally drove me to violently jab my ear drums with an ice pick, or maybe it has to do with the fact that I recently adopted a new kitten from the Animal Rescue League...  Chances are it has to do with all of the above and then some - minus the ice pick, I used a pencil...

Regardless, it's nice to be back at my laptop writing to you.  My last post produced a flurry of interesting and provocative responses from you covering subjects as diverse as: a "One World Government/Illuminati" is running the world; "gargantuan evil" is in control of not one but both major US political parties; people should not vote for Obama and instead vote for a third party; and my personal favorite, which came in the form of this question: "Why did the Pittsburgh Steelers play Ben Roethlisberger against Indianapolis instead of Byron Leftwich when it was obvious that Big Ben was banged up, exhausted and in need of some rest?"  I couldn't agree more.

Regardless of your point of view, I appreciate your input immensely as it reminds me how lucky I am to be a part of such an amazing community of people, specifically those I have connected with as a result of posting on BLURT and by performing in Anti-Flag. So thanks to all of you who have posted a comment.

Within the next two weeks I plan to respond directly to some of your comments from my last post and this post, so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime I want to take a moment to send a special thanks to JuliaIsabella for her post... Thanks JuliaIsabella, your words inspire me to keep doing what I do. It was a pleasure meeting you.

Now onward to today's main event...

Election night, the taste of victory was sweet.

Actually, it tasted more like Guinness as I downed a pint in celebration while leading a chorus of "We Are The Champions" at an election night party, one arm around my older sister and the other around her daughter, who coincidentally is the little girl who appears on the cover of Anti-Flag's Terror State CD. That photo was taken only a few years into the Bush White House and that little girl is now nearly eighteen!  Seeing her grown up is a firsthand illustration to me of the years that have passed and the endless opportunities to take this world in a progressive direction that have been missed by the Bush White House during that time. With those thoughts in mind it was hard - almost impossible actually - for me not to feel great about the ouster of the Republicans from the White House, and to witness history as a black man was elected to live in a house built by slaves and given a name that at this point in time strikes me as one part racist and one part absurd: "The White House..."  Really? (I wonder what they're going to do with the "Whites Only" sign now that the Obamas are going to be living there?)

Yes, once again truth is stranger than fiction and even those who would most likely be categorized as Obama skeptics couldn't contain their feelings of exhilaration at the election results.  Amy Goodman of Democracy Now certainly couldn't hide the smile on her face as she reported the news of Obama's victory, and even commentators on Fox News came across as genuinely excited and even one or two percent less Stepford Wife-ish than usual as it was confirmed that Obama had enough votes to win. Was that quite possibly a glimmer of hope I noticed twinkling from Karl Rove's eye when commenting on Obama‘s victory? Actually, no it was not...  Now I'm just being ridiculous!

Having suffered through eight years of Bush and Republican rule which brought us two  wars, a historic gap between rich and poor, ever deepening environmental devastation, a backward energy policy, and the worst economic disaster since the Great Depression, the very election of Barack Obama is a victory in itself. The fact that he is an African American and the most progressive person elected to the presidency in decades shines a light on how far America has come since the days of Jim Crow and segregation, and even since the invasion of Iraq.

Yes, the Obama victory is exhilarating, exciting, and ground breaking in so many ways, but what now?  As we enter into the next historic phase of this presidential journey the question remains: Will Obama be his own man, or will he be a tool of The Man?

Hints at both possibilities lurk below the surface, simultaneously sparking within me hope and concern.

This past Sunday on 60 Minutes, Obama stated that he was committed to closing down Guantanamo Bay and ending torturing as "an effort to regain America's moral stature in the world."  That sounds pretty good, right?  On the other hand, Democracy Now reported that John Brennan and Jami Miscik, both former intelligence officials who served under George Tenet, are leading Obama's review of intelligence agencies and making recommendations to Obama's administration. Brennan has supported warrantless wiretapping and extraordinary rendition; Miscik was involved in politicized intelligence used in the build up to the Iraq war; which alleged that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction. Ok, now I don't feel so good about Obama.

Such examples, pro and con, swirl around President-elect Obama and it is impossible to know for sure which direction he will take on every issue. However, there are measures we can take to influence President-elect Obama, and the first step in that process is for each and everyone of us to write and/or call him when we feel he is on target and when we feel he is not. I am personally committed to this action, starting today, and I urge you to do the same on the issues that matter most to you; be it the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, health care, education, the environment, energy, gay rights, the Supreme Court, Wall Street giveaways, military recruiters in schools, Federal Communications Commission reform (the Fairness Doctrine) - any and every issue you hold near and dear.

The kind of change America and this world needs will not come over night and it will not come easy.  Many people feel too cynical to believe it is possible for the government to be reclaimed by or to work for the people of this country rather than the corporate raiders who currently have their claws dug into it.

Believe me, I understand your hopelessness, but as recently as November 4th many people did not believe that it was possible for an African American to be elected President of the United States. Make no mistake about it, in Barack Obama we have a leader who, despite his faults, gives us reason to believe that he is genuinely concerned about people and working for progressive change for the nation and the world.  You can give up without a fight, you can give into your cynicism and apathy and be a part of the problem, or you can take a chance and make an effort; even one as minor as periodically writing to or calling your state and federal representatives (including President

Obama) and letting them know what you believe in and which direction you want to see this country and this world take.

You can start now by writing to President Elect Obama

at: http://change.gov/page/s/yourstory

As those of you who have been reading my posts know, Obama was not my first choice for president and I continue to believe that he is wrong on many issues, but I stand by my belief that he was the only viable choice for president in 2008. That said, the change we voted for will not come at all if we don't do our part to hold President Elect Obama accountable for the actions he takes as the 44th President of the United States.  Take fifteen minutes to write to the guy!

The future of your nation and world is at least as important as writing a five minute email to a friend about what happened this week on The Office, or who was eliminated on The Pick Up Artist - Season 2.

First, best e-mail I got last week (a haiku-ish reply). From my friend Philip Price of Winterpills, who've been on this list before:

sorry. election time got crazy. i had volunteered. what a time.

i drank too much.

then my hard drive crashed and i temporarily lost everything. but i found it. [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

By Martin Bisi

The explosion of energy I saw on Brooklyn's streets after the Obama win, recedes into the background. And I feel I'm looking at an economic and social playing field that is now undeniably different. The financial crisis has brought a shift in the dynamics of how the neighborhoods will change in the coming years. And I do believe neighborhoods like everything else, occupy the 4th dimension of time, so their identity exists in the context of history and change. The result of the election also has brought about a massive shift, in the mental realm - how 2.5 million residents see their connection with the rest of the continent. That these two forces would occur simultaneously, almost gives a sense of cosmic synchronicity - paradigm shifts occur at break points.

Compared to the near spiritual feelings about Obama's election, the downsizing of the economy in Brooklyn is the yang, to Obama's yin. I live across the street from an empty lot that has been the anticipated location of a mega Whole Foods market, with rooftop parking - for years. That plan is now dead in the water. If the company does open its first Brooklyn branch, the official plan is now to do it on a much smaller scale. Atlantic Yards, the gargantuan development project for Downtown Brooklyn, is also being scaled back by an indefinite amount. Common sense suggests it will be scaled way back. That project was so iconic of the over-development of Brooklyn, that it inspired the slogan "Don't supersize Brooklyn". Well I wish I'd gotten the T shirt with those words when I had the chance. Those words are not exactly relevant anymore, and that's what happens in a paradigm shift - concepts and words need to be re-defined, discarded, replaced.

I'll throw in another word - gentrification. That word was the lightening rod for all the cultural, economic and political ire of the last 15 years in Brooklyn. At issue was the opening of many businesses that catered to economically upscale customers, and the consequences of that. I can say for myself, that the termination of the Whole Foods project across the street, is making my living status feel more secure. The closing of a Starbucks a couple miles from me - in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn - must have a similar effect on some of the residents there.

So with the heat turned down from 10, to maybe 7, the whole phenomenon of gentrification can be looked at more objectively. Some of the obvious contradictions - like the mutual reliance of valuable culture and the influx of educated, moneyed residents - make the classic 'gentrification' analysis inadequate for the tensions sure to come. We are also now stuck with the harsh downside, that economic downsizing means less employment, and a different kind of challenge.

It seems things can only be perfect for a blink of an eye - sigh. So I'm glad I hit the streets of Brooklyn on election night - definitely, a unique moment of collective elation.  

Martin Bisi is an American producer and songwriter. Visit him at www.myspace.com/theendcredits.

Perhaps I'm in denial. Yesterday while hearing "Stormy Weather" on Marketplace (yet again), I actually stuck my fingers in my ears and sang, "La La La La La Laahhhhhhhh! There's plenty of money and plenty of people who want to give it to ME!" Yep. I really did. Oh, I'm not completely delusional. I've got a 401(k is for KILLJOY). But just think. NO ONE ever hits a home run thinking "I suck" [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Chuck Eddy dusts off his old vinyl and scratches his head. We all win.

Greetings, BLURT readers. This column's theme is fairly simple: Basically, I sort alphabetic ally through my shelves for dusty old 7-inch vinyl indie singles from acts that aren't household names, and try to figure out why I wound up keeping them in the first place. This is the 8^th installment (first two appeared at Idolator.)

***

INDIAN JEWELRY "In Love With Loving"/"Lost My Sight" (On/On Switch, 2005)

The modestly plain-brown-paper-colored cardboard picture sleeve depicts two apparent humans with ichthyosaurus skulls where their heads should be, but joined Siamese-twin-like at the heart. Notes typed on a 6 1/2" x 5 1/2" piece of paper inside follow screwed-up 16^th Century French theories about conjoined twins ("too tight a womb, tight clothes, and the manner in which a woman sat while pregnant") with by more up-to-date screwed-up Italian theories about demonic possession. There are Latin words as well. The music, from three mysterious Houston, Texans also known to call themselves NTX + Electric and Swarm of Angels among other weird names, has vocals coiling through what sounds like a long vacuum-cleaner hose filled with psychedelic guitar noise wobbling as if from Mesopotamia (the A-side) and a barely audible woman's voice approximating Grace Slick/Kim Gordon/Exene mode way-in-hell-back behind a repetitive guitar figure given a disconcertingly nervousness (the B-side). Dub blackouts figure heavily, if not necessarily intentionally, in both songs, and the band knows how to get beauty out of an ill-defined blur as it gets louder and louder. Think Chrome, or maybe the Butthole Surfers of the mid ‘80s. "These songs," the liner note insert warns, "were recorded as quickly as possible."

(www.myspace.com/indianjewelry)

I-SOUND "Sweating In The Ages"/"Dog Years" (Broklyn Beats, 2002)

In "Sweating In The Ages," a broken computer keyboard dances a skittery soft shoe, turns into a cash register spewing pennies all over the room, which turns into a Martian typewriter, which gets mellow and forlorn and then turns into a tick-tocking metronome. In "Dog Years," an unhurried, fuzzy clank suffused with crud somehow forms itself into an identifiable albeit highly distorted groove. Nice pockets of space -- albeit conveying less personality, somehow, than Indian Jewelry's. Though based in Brooklyn, I-Sound once split an CD with Berlin's To Rococo Rot, whose name is spelled the same forwards and backwards. (http://broklynbeats.net/artist.html )

ROSS JOHNSON "It Never Happened"/"Nudist Camp"  (Sugar Ditch, 1993)

Shaggy dog stories, almost as hilarious as this Memphis roots-punk utility player clearly thinks they are judging by how he keeps laughing uncontrollably at himself - first, over a beat stolen from Dylan's "Rainy Day Women # 12 & 35", a yarn about naughty stuff Ross did in his youth. One time, for instance, he saw a woman in culottes and a halter top, and ("this is in a non-sexist context," he swears), he "felt funny" (see also: Beavis and Butthead), which is to say "objectifying glare took over." He's having a conversation with himself, reaching for the craziness of Hasil Adkins or Harmonica Frank; he stops to pray, hopes it's all just a bad dream, assures himself it'll all be over soon. Flipside starts with more chuckling, but the music gives deep chugga-chugga horn-funk a Latin bugalu bent then puts Hendrix guitars on top, à la the Jimmy Castor Bunch. Again, Ross is reminiscing. "When I was younger I had ambitions" -- many of which were inspired by looking at "nudie magazines" and involved living at a nudist camp. But one day a kid from down the block tried to pimp his strip-poker-playing twin sisters, bad girl Donna and good girl Dora. Which scheme went badly. There's also a hidden, untitled third track - a rinky-dink instrumental not distantly related to the theme from "The Dating Game." On the Sun Records homage of a record label, both sides are classified as "Delta Music Hot Vocal."  (www.myspace.com/thebaronoflove)

JOHN WILKES BOOZE "Whiskey And Pills"/"Marc Bolan Makes Me Want To Fuck" (Family Vineyard, 2002)

I count about 13 words in the lyrics of the first song; maybe five words in the lyrics of the second (yeah, fewer than in its title). "Whiskey and Pills" is a call-and-response between a preposterous Jon Spencer-style huckster and somebody (or maybe the same guy) with a higher voice - basically, pigfuck punks ineptly pretending to be a ‘60s garage band who were in turn pretending to be the Isley Brothers. Plenty of energy; not enough music. The "Marc Bolan" song, mainly just some geek swishily repeating the line "children, sweet children of the revolution," is slower and has some remnant of Southern-not-glam rock in its opening guitar cascade. Marc Bolan was one of "five pillars of soul" these guys later dedicated CD-R EPs too; the others were Melvin Van Peebles, Patty Hearst, Yoko Ono, and Albert Ayler. Which is to say they defined "soul" their own way. On the single, a sticker stuck to the outside says "debut 45 from Southern Indiana's premier R&B band." Guess they forgot about John Cougar's group. Also says "recorded live to 2" tape" -- but I bet Indian Jewelry still recorded theirs faster. (www.myspace.com/johnwilkesbooze)

KILL ME TOMORROW "I Require Chocolate"/"Rats For Sale" (Gold Standard Laboratories, 2002) 

Like Indian Jewelry, these San Diegans are a co-ed trio who insist on having their rock and dubbing it too - at least during the introduction of "I Require Chocolate," all zooms and zips and secret passageways. When unconventionally tuned guitars enter, it sounds a lot like real early Sonic Youth, back when their drums did a tribal goth rumble under foreboding Wagnerian feedback mini-symphonies. But the nasally voiced sarcasm upfront comes closer to mid ‘80s British indie post-punks like the Membranes or Nightingales. The words aren't remotely comprehensible, but it's clear their consonants and diphthongs don't match the insert card (see also: Indian Jewelry again) that substitutes for a lyric sheet. Turns out, when you read closer, that the words on paper are plot summaries: "A famous but over the hill superhero is found guilty in a case concerning a series of bizarre sex crimes..." And then, for the B-side, "Since the beginning of civilization a strange vendor has walked the Earth selling his variety of plagues to mankind..."  "Rats For Sale" - recited in a flat Thurston Moore deadpan - is both more deliberate and more decipherable, at least to the extent that its untrustworthy narrator hopes to convince you that rodent ownership would be "beautiful." Maybe not as beautiful as the water-blue vinyl the songs are pressed on, though, or the color scheme of the 45 cover they're packaged in - obviously designed (like Kill Me Tomorrow's CDs) by a painter with a fondness for filling in all available space with fluorescent hues. Which is sort of what the music does, too: For indie-rock artfucks, they've got a real full sound.

(www.myspace.com/killmetomorrow)   

Chuck Eddy is the former music editor of the Village Voice and the author of several books, including the greatest book on heavy metal ever written, Stairway To Hell. He won't admit it, but he knows more about rock ‘n' roll than the entire accumulated BLURT brain trust.

Episode Drei

KING KHAN and KING LOUIE let decadence reign!

Berlin bad boy, MTV darling and consummate crowd-pleaser King Khan recently ripped through the US on the maiden American voyage of his explosive soul revue, King Khan & The Shrines. After 10 years completely destroying the European continent, The Shrines are now being dutifully delivered to an American audience via Vice Records. The 10-piece band played clubs from east to west coast, the Pitchfork Festival in Chicago, and McCarren Pool, Southstreet Seaport and Andrew WK’s new nightclub in New York—early high caliber exposure due to the muscle behind the Vice machine. Like a hypnotist conjuring the sexual electricity slumbering deep within, King Khan can bring a crowd collectively to its knees. Think Stax and Specialty records, Volt and Veejay, Wilson Pickett, Sam Cooke, James Brown, and even Jon Spencer—King Khan has got the predatory magnetism to bend an audience to his will and will soon be seen globally hosting his own show on MTV World. A fine gentleman indeed, the King of Berlin opened his arms to the King of New Orleans—living Louisiana legend Louie Bankston, who was touring and tearing it up on this side of the pond with the dirty swamp stompers, The Royal Pendletons. 

But first, here’s a little Q&A with King Khan...


JY: There’s King Curtis, King Coleman, King Louie, The King of Rock and Soul—Solomon Burke—and then, of course, there’s the King himself—Elvis. And you call yourself King Khan. I’ve seen you live several times and will heartily admit you rip it down. But what gives you the right to carry that crown? 

KK: Well ask my wife...she's been smiling blissfully since 1999!

JY: Over a decade playing in the garage rock realm, you have full-length records out on Voodoo Rhythm, Hazelwood, Sympathy, Goner, Crypt, Norton, In The Red, and Vice, and dozens of singles on smaller labels. It goes without saying that you’re one of the most in-demand artists of your generation. Do you feel that signing now with Vice is going to open up The Shrines and your other popular favorite band, The King Khan & BBQ Show, to a wider audience, bigger tours, more money, better riders? 

KK: It isn’t really the label that decides whether or not we should be considered the new rock ‘n roll royalty. Vice is nice with its promotion, but we bled for 10 years on our own without any videos or “tour support.” We earned our gold through lots of blood, sweat, tears and cum. If anything, what got us better tours, riders, and such is the evolution and sophistication of our God-given musical talent and the simple fact that you can't stop rock ‘n roll!

JY: Yeah! Having personally witnessed onstage fellatio and anal audience firebreathing at one of your shows, I assume massive partying was in full effect on this Shrines’ tour. Can you give us any highlights? Are the audiences in the states taking to the soul spectacle like their European brethren?

KK: Someone from the Shrines—and I am not naming names—fucked a girl next to a dumpster and almost got tons of garbage emptied on them. I got to sing duets with Kid Congo, Ian Svenonius, Jello Biafra, the Gris Gris, Jay Reatard, Cole Alexander, Mark Sultan, Bradford Cox, Jon Spencer and the Mighty Hannibal. This was the first of many Shrine US Invasions. God Bless America and the American soul music that we play. We are finally getting a chance to bring it all home to Jerome!!!!! About time something like this took place. Move over Amy Winehouse...the freak brothers are rollin’ in and THEY HAVE VISAS!!!!!!!!!!!!

JY: What’s next for The Shrines?

KK: $$$$$$$ Bling! $$$$$$$ Maybe backing up Beyonce, Trina... I wanna venture into hip hop, do a country album, and move to New York right away!

Guest post this week from Irish singer-songwriter and one of the nicest musicians I know, Colin Devlin of the Devlins. Look for his solo project A Democracy of One out 2009 (yay!).

Dear Kate,

i'm really not sure what to write in this guest blog, there seems to be too many people writing so much crap on the internet i'm not sure if anything i have to say is going to improve this situation! the election, the war in Iraq, the economy [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Sonic Reducer: The Fertile Crescent of the 90s.

Sonic Reducer returns to the fertile crescent of the late 80s - early 00s, probing for sonic caviar. Again, the disclaimer: I had a small thing to do w/the Whirlees record and did some work about 100 years ago with with The Oblivion Seekers. What can I say? Good is good.

Morning 40 Federation, Trick Nasty (2002, self-released): if there's a better drunk-funk band anywhere in the world, I want to know about it. These New Orleans gutter snipes drag R&B, funk, blues and Crescent City music hall booze-alongs into the garage, dose them with near-fatal amounts of liquor, and let them stumble back into the streets. A 365 day a year drunk-punk rent party, the 40s really do put most other garage bands out to pasture with the utter purity of their trash. Their almost militant indifference to the norms of society (work, food, clothes, other people) pretty much puts them on their own little island in the Mississippi River: the island of revels, where everyone is smashed before noon, of willful irresponsibility; a humid Saturnalia, forever showered with cheap whiskey and beer.

Sugar Plant, After After Hours (1997, World Domination): a perfectly titled release. Dreamy nocturnal ambient pop from a Japanese duo to while away the hours before dawn to. They occasionally break through the placid surface with waves of humming electric guitars and effects, and finish strong with a rumbling, feedback heavy "Brazil." This World Domination was Dave Allen's (from Gang of Four, Shriekback, etc.) label in the late 90s and early 00s-I don't believe they are affiliated with the current World Domination Records. 

The Whirlees, self-titled (1993, Schizophonic): I'm paraphrasing here, but a reviewer once described the only full release by the Salem, OR combo thusly: "If The Whirlees were a car, they would be a '73 'Cuda with a Hemi dropped under the hood and humongous side-pipes." This is true-in a paraphrased sense, of course. Thick, rumbling gobs of mid-tempo hard rock cruise through the CD like Dazed & Confused teenage traffic driving in circles on a Friday night. That's hard rock; not metal, not glam, not punk. Remove the blues from the first three ZZ Top records and fill the gap with stacks of Marshall Amps, wah-wah pedals and fuzz boxes; place under the hood of an El Camino, drop a Quaalude and add Rainier Ale; presto! The Whirlees. They buzz and lumber, they growl and howl, they occasionally pick up speed to approach take-off, they toss in a bit of "Train Kept a Rolling." They make Salem proud.

The Oblivion Seekers, self-titled (1992, T/K-Tim/Kerr): The Oblivion Seekers are Mark Sten and whoever he says is an Oblivion Seeker. This debut CD is the first in a long line of thoroughly fine records, a criminally underrated body of work that is (as far as I know) still on-going. Most Oblivion Seekers CDs morph back and forth between twin poles of  snarly, electrified rockabilly and super-charged rock & roll and more pensive, even tender material - ballads, mid-tempo numbers and the like. The first record offers that but also something different: a collection of attitude-heavy, gospel influenced material, split into collections of "Saved" and "Damned." Covers of the Carter Family, Mack Self and others sit next to Sten originals. The sound is trebly and jacked-up, with odd separations in the mix, and a hot/cold feel; it sounds both dry and drenched at the same time. Duality at work: "Roadhouse" is vintage rockabilly, while "Fine, Fine, Fine" sounds like it was mixed by David Lynch. 1993's Spirit of America is every bit as good or better, a 20 song-cycle opus that goes gold from A to Z.

Steve Fisk, 448 Deathless Days (1987, SST): for the sake of being conveniently reductive, Steve Fisk has at least three musical personas; band member (Pell Mell, Pigeonhed, etc.), the crafty producer of bands like Mudhoney, Nirvana, Beat Happening, Geraldine Fibbers and many more, and the sonically schizo auteur of solo records like 448 Deathless Days. Loaded with samples and tape manipulations, shifting syncopations and backwards beats and a dark, somewhat foreboding vibe, 448 Deathless Days is the sound of someone cutting up in the studio, indulging his darkly surreal whims. Unfettered indulgence can, of course, be a colossal wank; thankfully, Fisk has a well balanced sense of the weird, knows his way around the musty back-rooms of his gear and can make a racket and be tuneful simultaneously. Members of Screaming Trees and other pals from Seattle and Ellensburg keep it coming.

Steven Jesse Bernstein, Prison (1992, Sub Pop): Steve Fisk also had the unprecedented task of finishing the music and production on Prison by Seattle's poet-provocateur Steven Jesse Bernstein after he took his own life in 1991. With only one track completed, Fisk was left to intuit his way thru Bernstein's thorny mob of words, a white-knuckle life story poured out with breath-taking venom, cryptic word collage, sweet humor and bared-soul vulnerability. Summing up all the multiple shards of  Bernstein's complex persona and fucked-up life and death is pointless and impossible. He was street-wise and wise-wise and crazy and damaged/sweet and had an astounding ability to tell stories and create complex knots of images and ideas that never felt anything less than 110% genuine - there wasn't an ounce of guile in the man. The fantastic flights of fancy in "This Clouded Heart" and "Party Balloon" never wear thin, while the brutal honesty of "Face" can be hard to take; apparently it got to be to much for him, as well. 

Life Garden, Pry Open My Mouth With The Red Knife Of Heaven (1992, We Never Sleep): One of several infinitely deep, mind-altering Life Garden CDs (including Seed, Caught Between The Tapestry Of Silence & Beauty and The Hungry Void),Pry Open My Mouth... is ritual, start to finish. David Oliphant, Su Ling-Oliphant, Peter Ragan and Bil Yanok were Life Garden. Their metier was acoustic instruments, largely percussion, stringed or blown into/through, manipulated electronically, but with no synths or (on this release) samples. Bells, bowls, flutes, gongs, PVC pipe and multi-tracked voices all get the digital effects treatment to create ghostly, hypnotic soundscapes that range from unsettling to profoundly peaceful. Life Garden's mission was transformative, not entertaining; the exact opposite of emotionally neutered new age muzak, they shared a little piece of common ground with Art Ensemble of Chicago, Current 93, the tribal-industrial underground and a few top-shelf dark ambient acts. They had more in common with pre-historic cave painting and pagan, pantheistic ritual than popular music; their music seems to emanate from the very earth itself. This is the real stuff: sound as emotion, the fusing of past and present, the melting point of mind and matter in the infinite flux of the cosmos. I am, absolutely, serious.

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A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.