Tag Archives: Music

Nivana 12-12-12 Reunion: “Cut Me Some Slack”

12-12-12 isn’t just a fancy date and obnoxious Twitter hashtag anymore.

Only a hurricane leveling half of New Jersey and flooding Manhattan could make Paul McCartney team up with the remaining members of Nirvana to bring the thunder like none other.

More spectacular yet, they didn’t just play an old 90s tune – they wrote a brand new, kickass song led by McCartney’s bluesy slide guitar and powered by Dave Grohl in his natural habitat behind the drums.

Hoping this gets at least an iTunes release soon.

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GREEN DAY MAKE MUSICAL STATEMENT ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR WITH “KILL THE DJ” VIDEO

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Uno!, the first of Green Day’s new trilogy of albums is coming out later this month and the video for its second single, “Kill The DJ” (not to be confused with Nicki Minaj’s “Kill da DJ”) was just released today.

With twangy guitar tones light on the overdrive, and falsetto-seasoned vocals, The song sounds more like a Foxboro Hot Tubs tune than a Green Day single. It’s a little bit rock n roll and a pinch of disco, but is wholly boring and thoroughly uninspired.

It’s hard to tell whether the pseudo-anthemic chorus line “Someone kill the DJ, shoot the fucking DJ” is supposed to funny and ironic, or an actual call for the end of EDM as we know it through the kind of violence the band condemned in their 2009 hit, “21 Guns”.

Whatever the intent is behind the lyrics (if any), it doesn’t change the fact that “Kill the DJ” is a pretty bland song with a bland video and that plenty of EDM groups with a fraction of Green Day’s resources are producing far more interesting music than this.

But maybe that’s the joke? Hell if I know.

The single isn’t a complete waste. It’s light, catchy, and is the kind of thing I could hear echoing through every mall across America if it weren’t for that naughty F-word that pops up four times per chorus (delivered by Armstrong with a complete absence of emotion). Lackluster though it may be, “Kill the DJ” at least hints at a (sort of) new musical direction for the band, and while the three albums worth of material they’ve prepared likely has plenty of filler and fluff, there’s bound to be a few gems in there somewhere. And hey, at least it’s not American Idiot Part III. 

Now I’ll anxiously await the even more ironic flood of remixes that this song is about to spawn.

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CONCERT REVIEW: Jane’s Addiction @ The Foxwoods MGM, Mashantucket, CT – Theatre of the Escapists Tour

Before August 18th, 2012 I couldn’t name you three Jane’s Addiction songs if my life depended on it. I know the band best from Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas soundtrack.

After August 18th, 2012, I’ve realized I can only name one Jane’s Addiction song, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy their one hell of a weird show at Foxwoods Resort and Casino.

The theater is swanky chic with modern-looking light fixtures and vested ushers at every staircase to make sure you don’t trip down all five steps after pounding four or five $6 Coors Lights. It all clashes against the centerpiece of Addiction’s stage dressing: two giant female statues, breasts bare and puffed out. To the right there’s a ladder leading up to some kind of platform on which a good amount of crazy will occur later in the evening.

The lights go down, the crowd comes alive and cheers, Pink Floyd’s “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” comes over the theater speakers…and nothing happens. About six minutes later you might get the feeling Jane’s Addiction precedes all their performances by playing Wish You Were Here in its entirety. Just when all seems lost and another $20 beer is in order, the band enters the stage a couple minutes into “Welcome to the Machine”. The song unceremoniously fades out and Addiction breaks into their first few songs without a word to the crowd. Two scantily-clad ladies are lowered from the ceiling on swings and move in rhythm to the songs. A man in an odd looking costume roams the stage, seemingly entrusted with the role of “being way creepy”. Jane’s Addiction has arrived.

After the  face-blasting introduction, things quiet down enough for Perry Ferrell to make quips about gambling, drinking, and other debauchery. He even plays the mad bartender, sharing the bottle of liquor he brought on stage with the front row, pouring drinks to anyone who will raise their glass.

The show goes on, never stopping for long and Jane’s Addiction pumps out their greatest hits and probably some new ones (I wouldn’t know the difference, admittedly) for the sparse amount of dedicated fans in the audience (for every person standing, three were sitting). Still, even guys like myself, who are only at the show presumably because they were offered free tickets, are into it, nodding their heads, pumping their rockfists, and pretending to know the lyrics. The theatrics continue with vintage erotica broadcasted on three giant screens, the scantily clad vixens return to dance on the raised platform, and Creepy Guy comes back in different costumes, at one point splashing himself with a liquid that hardens into a mask which he then peels off his face. All this behind Ferrell’s constant twirling and bending, practically bleeding charisma next to Dave Navarro’s mostly stoic shredding. Both are shirtless, Ferrel drinks from his bottle, Navarro smokes cigarettes that appear from nowhere, both hands busy burning up the fretboard – 90s rock n roll in full resurrection.

After about an hour’s worth of alternative bliss, the band plays one last song that I still can’t name and exit the stage. There is no encore.

I won’t say the night made a life-long fan out of me, but I will say it was one damn good show and that, delay aside, I have newfound respect for the band and do feel slightly ashamed for having a video game be responsible for most of my prior exposure to their music. The performance was tight, the spectacle was large, and the air thick with nostalgia. Jane’s Addiction may not have reinvented the rock n roll show at Foxwoods (surely a hard thing to do in a Connecticut casino), but they sure as hell proved that for anyone willing to forget about terrorism, recessions, and social networks, if even for just an hour, the 90s are still very much alive and that alt. rock will never, ever die.

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