One of the weirdest musical phenomena that I know of is the symbiotic relationship between really bad music, mostly classic rock schlock, played at maximum volume, and professional sporting events. I mean have you ever been to an NFL game where you didn’t hear Ozzy Osbourne’s "Crazy Train"? And let's not even discuss the NBA where the prospect of being exposed to more Kelly Clarkson or the All American Rejects keeps me from even thinking of attending.
Last night, in Manila–like heat, I trekked southward on Manhattan Island to meet with Jim Davis, owner of Music Direct and one of his right hand men, Colie Brice. One of the best online sources for audiophile wares, both soft and hard, (now, now, let's keep those high fidelity minds up out of the gutter!), Music Direct, as many of you know, also owns the revived Mobile Fidelity label. MoFi was and maybe again THE proudest audiophile label of them all. The extra dynamics they squeezed out of Nirvana's <I>Nevermind</I> will forever amaze me.
Last night in a torrential rain storm, I trucked northward along the Hudson to Tarrytown, NY. A half hour's ride across the Tappan Zee bridge and we were in Piermont, NY at a club called the Turning Point.
<I>Stereophile</I>'s answer to Poppin' Fresh talks with Dr. John backstage at June's HE 2006 show in Los Angeles.
So let get me this straight. Orrin Hatch, Republican senator from Utah, is one of the heavy hitters whose deluge of 11th hour phone calls not only springs music producer Dallas Austin out of a Dubai jail for coke possession, but it also helps to turn a four year jail sentence into a pardon?
In this digital life we’re all now living does it get any better than calling AOL and canceling an account? I hate to be <I>Flashdance</I> about this but—Oh, what a feeling!
Being a sixty year old rock star ain't easy, but there’s gotta be a better way for rock bands to grow old than the one Aerosmith has chosen. A symphony gig? What's next Disneyland on a co-bill with Up With People?
No matter how you feel about the whole New Orleans fiasco—my two cents: Ray "chocolate city" Nagin’s lack of chops are now going to be exposed posthaste—there are parts of that town that cannot be allowed to go away, first and foremost the musicians, many of whom still teeter on the brink or have fallen head first into the abyss of financial ruin.
<B><I>Dirty Little Secret</I></B>
The Seventies. That ancient lost era, that musical wasteland, the decade everyone (who doesn't know music) likes to rag on, continues to supply Madison Avenue with new and exciting fodder.