PS2 Guitar Hero Bundle

by REDOCTANE

There have been tons of rhythm games, but they are almost all uniformly dorky. Not that Guitar Hero is hip… you get a 3/4 scale Gibson SG as your controller that’s closer to ukelele sized than anything truly axe-worthy. But manoman is it fun. The guitar has five frets, a strumming switch and a whammy bar and you click the buttons to the corresponding on screen graphics. Pretty simple, dangerously addicitive.

The song selection is key, with a strong mix of classic rock, blues, metal and alternative. Yes, you expect Cream and Hendrix and Megadeth and Ozzy, but Guitar Hero tosses in some Donnas, Queens of the Stone Age and Boston too. There’s an Incubus song and a Sum41 song, both of which I cannot play for the life of me. Because of the limited control scheme, it’s actually harder to play a lot of songs in guitar hero than on an actual guitar. You tend to do a lot more fretboard stretching and no real pick work to speak of. Arpeggios end up playing like fast descending riffs, and hammerons and pulloffs have a weird timing to them that I can’t quite get a hold of. All these little hitches aside, you really just want to play more and more.

The bad part for me, is that I can’t really play for long. The ergonomics of the guitar are pretty crap compared to playing a full size one, and more importantly, the constant incoming scroll of notes causes some pretty bad eyestrain for me after prolonged gaming. This differs from person to person, but objects tended to vibrate in and out of focus after I stopped staring at the TV.

Yes, this game may cause seizures and repetitive stress disorder and you’ll keep playing anyway. At least, you will if you have any rock n roll in your heart.

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Trapped in the Closet Chapters 1-12 (Unrated Version)

by Jive

BWAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

*cough*

MIDGET MIDGET Midget midget …

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

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Photo by Timothy Norris / IceCreamMan.Com

Remember how a month ago I thought that the New Pornographers were so terrific that I thought they could carry on just as well without Neko Case? Boy howdy, I suck at judging these things.

As a band, I think the New Pornographers have proven just how much teamwork there is involved in weaving their magic. It’s not just Case but it’s also the songwriting of Carl Newman and Dan Bejar, the wildman drums of Kurt Dahle and the multi-instrumental flourishes from Blaine Thurier and John Collins. But having Neko Case come over the top sure helps.

Hitting the Henry Fonda Theater with the full, full lineup for the first time ever, the band crowded the stage with an unruly amount of musicians. On top of the standard six lineup, Newman’s niece Kathryn Calder has been added on keyboards and vox, and Destroyer Dan Bejar would stumble on stages occassionally to sing. Every time Bejar showed up, the whole thing looked like one of those all-star jams at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. Tons of people on stage, a couple holding no real instruments except for tambourines and beer bottles, everyone singing way too loud because it’s too much fun singing these songs.

Cutting through all the noise, of course, was Neko Case, who is so loud and so dominating that it’s impossible not to watch and listen to her. Even in between songs, she was going on wild tangents about animal husbandry and tugboats filled with kittens and commanding the spotlight. Oh, she sang too, busting out “Mass Romantic,” “All For Swinging You Around” and eventually “Letter to an Occupant” like you wouldn’t believe.

Besides the Neko Case led tracks, the glorious choral blowout of “Bleeding Heart Show” and sweet, sweet harmonies of “Streets of Fire” rang truest of the Twin Cinema material. The “oldies” off Mass Romantic and Electric Version riled up the crowd the most, especially the jaunty “Slow Descent Into Alcoholism.”

They played for 90 minutes and two encores, and yet I wanted to hear so much more, like “Three or Four” or their cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” that they’ve been floating live. The whole show was like that… it was so good that I wanted this lineup to be the norm and not just a special occasion, and I wanted more New Porn, all the goddamn time.

:: Tons of pics from this show available at Ice Cream Man ::

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Brief notes on the Black Keys in Santa Ana a few weeks ago:

1) Holy crap the place was crowded. It was literally standing room only, and I was shooed out of 5 to 6 spots by the ushers because where I stood was a fire hazard.

2) It was a much more eclectic mix than the usual crowd I see, with indie kids bumping up against fratboys and old fogeys alike. It made for a fun show, with lots of whooping and hollering from all factions.

3) There were people air guitaring like it was Van Halen show. Some of them had mullets. THIS WAS AWESOME.

4) The band’s pretty good.

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Sons and Daughters, Petra Haden and the Sellouts and then the Decemberists. That’s a pretty good lineup, no? One right after the other at the Henry Fonda Theater, two nights in a row.

I really love “Repulsion Box,” but the live Sons and Daughters set was a bit of a mixed bag. I liked the manic energy, the way the singer stomped around on stage and danced like a live wire and the way the bassist seemed to drink a beer every song. It was a bit ragged though, and the vocals were a bit over the top at times, mixed too loud into the screechy range.

I’ve seen Petra Haden and the Sellouts before, and I thought they were better at the John Anson Ford Amphitheater a few months ago. The singing was spot on as usual, but the choir of voices seemed to overpower the PA at times. The crowd seemed a bit confused by the presentation, many of them not knowing about Petra Haden’s side project, some not even knowing she was a full member of the Decemberists.

The Decemberists seemed to start off slow for this show, playing both “Shanty for Arethusa” and “Bagman’s Gambit” in the first half. “Kingdom of Spain” featured some wonderful slidework by Chris Funk, while “Eli the Barrow Boy” had Funk on banjo along with some nice violin work by Petra Haden. The setlist seemed very ballad heavy until the end, but the band seemed to be saving its heaviest hitters until the end. They brought out James Fearnley from the Pogues on accordion, and blasted through “Sickbed of Chuchulain,” “Chimbley Sweep,” “Mariner’s Revenge Song” and then a one song encore of “The Tain,” one epic song after another. I haven’t seen people dancing this happily like this since Jack and Rose went below deck on the Titanic.

The last time I wrote about the Decemberists, I remarked that they were well onto their way to becoming a full on Rocky Horror Picture Show. They took another step with this show, keeping some bits and refining others. The audience is still throwing undies during “Los Angeles, I’m Yours,” paper bits during “16 Military Wives.” Colin Meloy still throws a tambourine at the end of the break in “Sporting Life,” but it’s at other band members instead of the audience. For the huge musical interlude for “Chimbley Sweep,” Jenny Conlee butted heads with Fearnley in an accordion duel for the ages, including bits of “Inagaddadavida” and “Smoke on the Water.” Before the interlude finished, Meloy convinced the entire audience, and I mean the ENTIRE audience, to kneel down before him as the music subsided. The throngs then pogoed up in unison as the music swelled up again. In the other big participation moment, the band once again asked the audience to scream as if being eaten by a whale during “Mariner’s Revenge Song.” Chris Funk has upgraded his whale call though, complete with foam core jaws that he runs around chomping on audience and Decemberists alike.

The theatricality is getting a bit out of hand, but the band has done a good job of keeping it with certain songs that might get tedious otherwise. “Revenge Song” is an 8-minute stomp with rare choruses, so the audience scream makes for a great release. The “Chimbley Sweep” antics put another layer to the show while the long solos drone on and on. I love the foam core whale because it looks like Max Fischer producing a KISS show. I can’t wait for the stage explosions on “Soldiering Life” for the next tour. As long as they’re not distracting from more moving numbers like “Red Right Ankle” or “Angels and Angles,” I think the band will be alright.

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Photo by David Thornton

After the continued success of Coachella and Bonnaroo, it seems like everyone’s putting together a festival this year. You know it’s getting a bit out of control when a publication like Arthur puts together its own weekend of music, Arthurfest. Arthurfest is the brainchild of Arthur impresario Jay Babcock, and seems to focus on various facets of freak folk, blues, psychedelia and noise. That’s not really my scene, personally, but there were a handful of acts that piqued my interest.

The festival was held at the Barnsdall Art Park, which is a beautiful site on the top of a hill. The locale was gorgeous, but I’m not sure it was really the best place to hold a festival. There were three stages shoehorned into the location, with one small indoor theater hosting the contemplative acts like Cat Power and Merzbow, a large lawn stage where Sleater-Kinney, Sonic Youth and Spoon established residence, and a smaller stage squished inbetween for inbetween acts like Dos and T-Model Ford. The indoor theater always had a huge line queueing on the outside, so that was not the place to go if you wanted to stage hop. The smaller outdoor stage had some sound bleed issues, at one point forcing Josephine Foster to cut out early because Sleater-Kinney was aurally invading her set. The big stage had its own issues too, with all sound provided by two gigantic stacks, which made for a messy sound mix at times. If you were standing near the stacks you were blown out and if you were out in the field it was a bit muddy.

In terms of other festival logistics, there wasn’t a whole lot of signage or security. When I got into the park there were three lines and no directions on what was what. Turns out one was will-call, one was wristbands and one was 21+ wristbands, but I had to go to the beginning of each line to find out. Of course, by the time I got to the top of the hill there wasn’t even anyone checking for bands, so really I could have walked in without a ticket. Go figure. There were tons of outhouses, but not enough variety in the food stands. I’m not usually one to complain about concessions, but it’s a major factor at all day festivals, and three slow moving vendors meant that there were pretty long lines at peak hours. Prices were a touch high, but within reason. They may want to consider separating out the water sales from the food stands, as the long waits made me hit the Insound booth where they were graciously providing lemonade for a quarter. Considering the homespun nature of the show, I thought all these problems weren’t really dealbreakers, since the low festival population (an estimated 1500-2000 folks) meant no Woodstock level issues.

Photo by Jeremiah Garcia

As for the actual music, the few actual sets I stayed around for were fantastic. Wolfmother were hugely loud, seemingly playing one Black Sabbath song for 40 minutes (that’s just their sound), but were funny and entertaining nonetheless. The Black Keys were blistering, drawing a huge ovation from a crowd that was only clapping politely at the beginning. At one point, Dan Auerbach even said “hey, this is easy.” Yeah, maybe for him. Sleater-Kinney was Sleater-Kinney, despite a sore throat for Corin Tucker that forced her to rein in her sonic scream, bring a huge ruckus that included a monstrous trip from “Let’s Call it Love” to “Entertain” that spanned twenty minutes and 2,000 bleeding eardrums.

For a first fest, I’d say it was a success, despite niggling complaints. For me, I think my return would be based mostly on the lineup. I can see Arthurfest II going even more underground, and honestly bands like Pole and Sunn-O and Sunburned Hand of the Man aren’t my bag. The lineup this year was so hugely varied that there was a little bit of something for everyone, and it seemed organized enough that nobody was forced to listen to a lot of stuff they wouldn’t like.

All photos (and even more available) from Ice Cream Man

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OK I lied. There was one more August concert that I went to. Coinciding with the release of Twin Cinema, the New Pornographers were in town for a few promotional instores and a live performance on KCRW’s “Morning Becomes Eclectic.” Already in town, the Pornographers squeezed in a real show at the Galaxy Theater in suburban Santa Ana.

The New Pornographers were in good form all night. Kurt Dahle stood out on drums, a clown prince behind the kit with a littany of stick tricks and playing many fills one handed so that he could glug a beer with the other. Carl Newman was regularly off key, but everything else sounded good, if a tad ragged. The newest material popped a little more in the live setting, with “Sing Me Spanish Techno” and “Bleeding Heart Show” having immediate singalong potential.

This was the softcore New Porn lineup, without alt-country chanteuse Neko Case. Touring without Case was a controversial decision amongst fans, but Carl Newman has a nice touch for picking female vocalists, grabbing Coco Culbertson for a Neko-lite role in his solo project and now using his own niece Kathryn Calder for parts on Twin Cinema. Taking Calder on tour was a gamble, and most waited with bated breath to see if that would pay off. On backup vocals she was fine, but she excelled when given the spotlight, knocking “All For Swinging You Around,” “Mass-Romantic” and “Letter to an Occupant” out of the park.

The eventual full tour will be a three ring circus of New Pornography, with the current lineup augmented by both Neko Case and Dan Bejar, bringing the count to a hard eight. Calder will remain on keyboards and backup vox, and “Three or Four” with Calder and Case dueting should be phenomenal. Opening for the band will be Dan Bejar as Destroyer, and Calder’s other band Immaculate Machine, rounding out a lineup that is as incestuous as it is pornographic.

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August was a pretty dry month for me, as I spent most of it trying not to die of the California heat. The one and only show I went to was the absolute 2nd to last Hot Snakes show EVER, at the Troubadour.

It wasn’t remarkably different from the other time I’ve seen them. It was the same hammering rhythm section and the throbbing sludge from Froberg and Reis on guitars. Like last time, the band was very tight and extremely loud. I wasn’t situated in front of Reis stack this time, so I had better mix and I could actually hear Froberg’s screaming.

The setlist was a good assortment, opening with string bending “I Hate the Kids” and pounding away all the way to “Let It Come.” Inbetween were sense shattering versions of “Automatic Midnight and No Hands.” The encore was non-stop brilliance though, with “This Mystic Decade” and “LAX” exploding through every speaker before Rob Crow from Pinback hopped on stage for the Drive By Jehu classic “Luau.”

It was an intense show, but it was really fun too, with pretty much every song I wanted to hear and a tip of the cap to the band’s legendary roots. I have a hard time believing this was really the last Los Angeles Hot Snakes show ever, but if it was, it was a 21 gun blowout of a sendoff.

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When I first heard Petra Haden’s acapella eight track recording of “The Who Sells Out,” I thought it was the greatest bedroom recording of all time. The prospect of a live rendering never really crossed my mind, since there was only one Petra Haden and the album was only achieved with the miracles of 1960’s technology. Fast forward a few months and numerous accolades later, Haden assembled an all-ladies choir to properly perform the record at the John Anson Ford Theater.

Haden nervously introduced the choir as “The Sellouts” and began with “Armenia City in the Sky.” There would be no setlist shenanigans, it was strictly performed in album order except for a few pauses for conversation. While Haden seemed out of sorts inbetween songs, speaking shakily and constantly fidgeting with the music sheets, she was confident and assured during the actual singing, frequently going into a bit of air guitar or drums while soloing.

Haden’s new arrangement reshapes the Who’s songs into something completely different. They lack punch without the benefit of Moon and Entwhistle, but the transformation accents Townshend’s original harmonic intents. Stripped down and reinterpreted into purely vocal form, the duo of “Our Love Was” and “I Can See For Miles” are completely transcendent. There’s also an added tinge of whimsy to the affairs, particularly on the ads where each of the ladies get to make funny noises and voices.

The combination of beautiful performance and an equally gorgeous summer night made for a pretty perfect evening. This was a rare opportunity, but there are a few more chances for people to catch the act. Petra Haden and the Sellouts will be opening for the Decemberists this fall at the San Francisco and Los Angeles dates.

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This one’s only a few weeks late, so pretend it’s actually around June 23rd or so. Meditate or time travel, if you have to.

Spoon’s return to Los Angeles was a sellout show at the Avalon, if not exactly a triumphant success. Spoon just seems like one of those bands that stand there and play the songs, so if you like the songs you’re set. If you don’t, there probably wouldn’t be a lot to convince you otherwise.

Luckily, I think the songs are great. The setlist leaned heavily on “Gimme Fiction” but yanked the best material from the previous three records as well. In the end, they played pretty much every song I wanted to hear, which was really satisfying and pretty rare for me.

Whether Spoon is doing new-wave, funk or Mats’ style pop-punk, they’re able to retain a unique Spoon sound that ties everything together. As an arranger, Britt Daniel’s got a remarkable talent for using minimalist leads on guitar and keyboard to create tension in the empty spaces between notes.

For the most part, everything worked. Slinky material like “Everything Hits at Once” and “The Way We Get By” showed off the rhythm section and “I Summon You” and “Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine” unveiled a slightly fuller version of that trademark Spoon vibe. “Sister Jack” was probably as close to a crowd rocker as Spoon got, and was the highlight of the night. Oddly, one of the few songs that really didn’t come across was the current single, “I Turn My Camera On.” Daniels’ guitar seemed too loud in the mix, which ruined the groove heavy funk of the tune.

Despite being a sellout crowd, it felt dead at the Avalon. There wasn’t a lot of dancing or cheering or even mellow head bobbing, just polite clapping and an occassional scream for an old hit. This may stem from the aforementioned Spoon stands up there and plays the records type thing. The downer energy level, from the band and the crowd, kept this from being a really great show, rather than just a good one.

Setlist - yoinked from Sharony’s Spoonfuls (go bruins!)

The Beast and Dragon, Adored
Me and the Bean
Someone Something
Lines in the Suit
Fitted Shirt
Car Radio
Chicago at Night
I Turn My Camera On
Sister Jack
They Never Got You
Paper Tiger
Jonathon Fisk
Everything Hits at Once
The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine
I Summon You
Anything You Want
The Way We Get By
Back to the Life
My Mathematical Mind

Metal Detektor
The Delicate Place
Small Stakes
Lowdown (Wire cover)

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