The Buzzcocks at the Paradise, Boston

It was at some point during "Autonomy" that I realized the last time I saw The Buzzcocks was about 15 years ago at a venue in New York, where I saw the last of the shoegazers - Adorable - opening up for the punk legends.

That same night, I somehow ended up scoring an invite to an after party held in a very New York loft where one could mingle with both of the bands in question. I was with my friend Gretchen, who was hip, arty, and never lost her cool, but that was the night I saw her facade crack for the first and only time. Come to find out The Buzzcocks had played an important part in her young life and she was a gigantic fan. Merely sharing the same room with Pete Shelley was inducing a near nauseous state in her. Watching him from across the room we trembled as we carefully planned something "smart" to say to the seminal vocalist. 15 minutes later, we skittered over to him. "I love your pants" Gretchen said, indicating a smart looking pair of red plaid bondage numbers he was sporting. "Oh thank you!" he cheerfully replied. "My Mum bought them for me!" Knowing the conversation was not going to yield a better nugget than that, we nodded, giggled, and nervously and ran away, spending the rest of the summer recounting our 10 seconds with the legend.

Tonight there were no bondage pants, and Shelley is looking significantly older, more like your portly, balding, Uncle Alan whose main interests are comfy chairs, tea, and biscuits. The sound in the club is mostly terrible, but this can't repress the glee that arises from watching drummer Danny Farrant in action. A tumble of scrawny limbs pounding furiously he is the showpiece of the set. As promised the band's first two albums are played in order, but it's far more exciting when they get to the "all hits" encore.







Drummer Porn:

Despite their claim, I see no evidence of rocking

This friend "Ken" is obviously trying to get regularly mentioned here, evidenced by his forward of this unwatchable video promoting Sioux City set to Starship's "We Built This City on Rock and Roll."



Don't feel bad if you can't watch the entire video, really, who could? It is well established that the members of Starship are doomed to spend the afterlife in a special corner of hell just for having written this song, why torture yourself? But my biggest beef with this video? There is no proof whatsoever that Sioux City does rock. In fact, it seems just the opposite. Full of TV newscasters who think they are "wacky", cheerleaders, bicyclists, hockey players, and firefighters. These people don't rock! Or if they do, they sure ain't showing us here. As for Bret Michaels endorsement... dear god, how would that be a positive?

At least the good folks in Cleveland know how to make a promotional video.

Banned Bands, but not the kind you’re thinking of

So today I was emailing with a friend who is really, really into marching bands. Yes, these people do exist.

Originally, I felt compelled to send him this hot news article from the Miami New Times stating that Frederica Wilson is Proud of Banning "Simulated Sexual Intercourse" in Marching Bands.

Now, color me naïve, I was unaware that simulated intercourse was prevalent in marching bands. But my friend - we’ll call him “Ken” because that’s his name - was quick to let me know yes, it's happening all the time! Just check out the video below around the :20 mark.



Gee, and they’re afraid of kids listening to too much Ozzy!

As I spent some time that day delving into the world of marching bands on the edge, I was surprised to see this list detailing just what marching bands are up to. It appears that, when not simulating sexual intercourse on a football field, they simulate napalming a Cambodian village, or murdering Elvis. USA! USA! USA!

I guess this just helps cement the truth that when it comes to a life in rock and roll, being in your high school band is the gateway drug. No wonder so many rockers get their start there. Mothers, you may want to reconsider nurturing your child’s interest in that glockenspiel. Just sayin'...