La Vie En Robe

Taco Tuesday: Halloween

Tegan & Sara, Wolfmother and a special guest appearance by the Grim Reaper himself. Stick this in your candy basket, baby!

Thinking Bob Dylan, Sounding Iron Maiden

I don't care what anyone says — I fuckin' LOVE Wolfmother. Yes, I was initially put off by the hype on the last album, but I've long since come around. And frankly, if that record or their new Cosmic Egg had actually been released as the newly-discovered work of some 'lude-gobbling early '70s glueheads instead of new material from 21st century hipsters, record geeks everywhere would have positively shit themselves with joy over their meaty riffs, thundering drums and ridiculous lyrics. 

Yes, context is important for us rock-crit types, but sometimes you gotta just ask yourself: Is this record kicking my ass? And yes, Cosmic Egg totally kicks my ass, regardless of whether or not they're ripping off Zeppelin or Leaf Hound or anyone else in between. Here's an amusing interview I recently did with head 'Mother Andrew Stockdale for ShockHound, in which he talks about the rather odd place his band occupies in the contemporary hard rock firmament.

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Taco Tuesday: Harvest Time

With the help of some inexpensive child labor, Jay and I bring in a bumper crop of new releases, including fresh wax from White Denim and Converge. Check it!

 

Jesus Died For Somebody's Sins... But Not Exene's

Very cool interview I conducted for ShockHound with the extremely cool Exene Cervenka. What more can I say, other than I played my vinyl LP of Under The Big Black Sun over and over again until you could practically see through it — and that she turned out to be even funnier and warmer in person than I could have hoped. If you were ever a fan of X (or of American punk rock in general), you'll definitely enjoy this one...

 

Nel Blu Di Pinto Di Blow

Gotta admit I felt a wistful twinge last night when I first heard about the passing of Al Martino at the age of 82. Not that I was a major fan; "Spanish Eyes" and "Love Theme from The Godfather" aside, his recorded work paled pretty drastically in comparison to the holy red-sauce trinity of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Tony Bennett. But he played the "Sinatra as pathetic little bitch" role in The Godfather to perfection (a performance which supposedly rendered him a permanent persona non grata in the Chairman's boardroom), and his album covers — where he always seemed to be wearing the same "I got the world by the cannolis" grin — gave me a lot of much-needed smiles back in my record store days.

And I gotta give him massive props for his amazing 1976 Italo-disco version of Volare, which my pal Rachel turned me on to yesterday. I'm pretty sure none of the other three crooners mentioned above ever cut anything as coke-erriffic as this recording, nor ever wore groovy goggles like Al sports in the song's video. RIP, Al; you weren't the best, but you were better than most.

Putting the "Roll" in Rock & Roll

Today's Taco Tuesday finds our heroes discussing the new Baroness (awesome!) and Flaming Lips (hmmm...) records in front of the world's largest roll of toilet paper. Don't squeeze the Charmin, baby!

Ain't No Cure: R.I.P., Dickie Peterson of Blue Cheer

(Photo by Herb Greene)

I will never forget the first time I saw Blue Cheer pounding their way through "Summertime Blues" on an old Beat Club video, or the subsequent joy of turning one college pal after another on to the semi-retarded genius of their Vincebus Eruptum album. I would love to say more about what this truly heavy and groundbreaking band meant to me, but since I am once again faced with a crazy day and a mountain of deadlines, this obit I wrote today for ShockHound will have to suffice...

Boy, 2009 sure has been one hell of a bad year for massively influential axe-slingers, hasn't it? First Ron Asheton of the Stooges dies, then the legendary Les Paul; and now comes the sad news that Dickie Peterson, the leader of Blue Cheer, has passed away from liver cancer at the age of 61.

    While Peterson (pictured above, far left) and his band never received the same sort of critical plaudits as the Stooges, nor achieved the commercial success of Paul, Blue Cheer's influence upon hard rock has been profound, indeed. Often cited as the world's "first heavy metal band," Blue Cheer was formed in San Francisco in 1966; though the power trio were named after a strain of Owsley LSD, their music had little to do with either the trippy psychedelia or the "peace and love" aesthetic so prevalent in the Bay Area at the time. From the get-go, the band — guitarist Leigh Stephens, drummer Paul Whaley and Peterson on bass and vocals — played heavy, blues-influenced, biker-friendly rock with their amps set on "stun;" one reviewer famously wrote that their live performances were so punishingly loud, they turned the air into cottage cheese.

    Blue Cheer's acid-caveman rendition of Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues" — taken from their mind-melting 1968 debut Vincebus Eruptum — actually made it all the way to #14 on the Billboard singles chart, but the band achieved little in the way of commercial success after that; and after several lineup changes (with Peterson the only constant), the band called it quits in 1972.

    But even though most rock critics of the day considered Blue Cheer little more than a bad joke, the band had the last laugh when Vincebus Eruptum and its follow-up Outsideinside turned out to be major touchstones for the grunge, doom-metal and stoner rock movements, with bands like Soundgarden, St. Vitus and Fu Manchu loudly (of course) singing the Cheer's praises.

    Peterson reformed the band numerous times over the last three decades to tour and make records. Their last album was 2007's surprisingly vital What Doesn't Kill You...; ShockHound caught Blue Cheer at the 2008 SXSW festival, and we were pleased to find that they were still skin-searingly loud, and that Peterson's distinctive howl was still as strong and endearingly feral as ever.

    Rest in peace, Dickie, and thanks for all the amazing music. We'll be turning our amps up to 10 tonight in your honor.

— Dan Epstein

Rave On, Raveonettes!

I first got hip to the Raveonettes back in 2003, when Chain Gang of Love came out. A lot of people wrote 'em off at the time as Jesus and Mary Chain wannabes, but there was something about that record that just kept pulling me back in; hey, I'm always a sucker for a good three-chord tune, especially when there are heaping helpings of '60s girl group pop, New York-style juvenile delinquent noir and out-of-control fuzz pedals involved. It didn't even matter to me that the entire album was in the key of B major; if anything, that kind of commitment to simplicity just made me love them more.

As the years have passed, Sune and Sharin have continually gone back to the same well, but have always emerged with something slightly different yet equally enchanting — and their new album In And Out Of Grace is no exception. So I was pretty damn stoked when they stopped by ShockHound for an interview and a four-song acoustic session — the latter of which once again reaffirmed my belief in the power of a well-written three-chord song. And they turned out to be pretty nice folks, too.

Check out my interview with them, and their acoustic Shock Session, below...

Taco Tuesday: Columbus Day

Jay and I "discover" new records by Lucero and Air, while a bunch of Ohio State boosters parade behind us in the background...

Coming in June to a Book Store Near You...

Just got a look at the cover of Big Hair and Plastic Grass, my forthcoming book on baseball and pop culture in the 1970s, and I'm stoked I just had to share it. Major kudos to the St. Martin's Art Department, who completely jacked this baby outta the park...