Ah, the memories... I remember my first step into punk when I heard MXPX covering "Summer of '69." I thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Since then, I have ditched Christian pop-punk, and so has MXPX on their new LP, Before Everything and After. That may not be a good thing in their case.
Nicholas Payton gets more ass than Wilt Chamberlain -- on one of his better days. And it's not as though this classically trained trumpet player is keeping it a secret.
Robert Rodriguez knows what he is doing, whether it be as director, producer, editor, or one of the many other titles he takes on in his latest and final installment of the "El Mariachi" trilogy.
Dave Matthews, Some Devil, September 23 (RCA)
Choosing to leave the band out of his name and album, Dave Matthews embarks on the tricky path of creating a solo album.
David Spade sat down with Street at the Four Seasons last week to talk about his new movie --in which he actually acts--occasionally.
What was it like working with child actors on a film that's basically about how being a child actor screws you up?
It's funny because I wanted them to be in the movie and I was like "I play, like, a loser - do you wanna come play yourself as a loser?" But they had a good sense of humor about it.
David Spade gets the shaft. Maybe it's because he came of age with the last SNL cast to actually do something with their lives -- Chris Rock may never be Bill Cosby, but he'd beat Horatio Sans in any laugh-off know to man.
Every advertisement was billing it as the Dismemberment Plan's last show ever but when lead singer Travis Morrison walked on stage after Engine Down's serviceable opening set, he set the record straight on the "big fat lie." Turns out that the Plan had one more show, in their hometown of Washington, D.C.
For the music snob, the first concert occupies a sacred space. Whether awful or amazing, we remember that first show, be it grooving to New Kids on the Block or sitting with your parents, suffering through a James Taylor set.
Eh. You'd expect something different than what you get from a film about the Japanese porn industry titled Bastoni - The Stick Handlers.
Come on, The Stick Handlers? This should have been a Porky's-type film that, instead of a de facto softcore porn, was actually porn mixed with comedy.
Instead, we get a movie that is actually rather a sad story.
It's time to face facts: I'm hopelessly addicted to chick flicks. As emasculating and pathetic as that sounds, I really do think it has left me with some insight into the fairer sex.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Fuck Nirvana.
Credit where credit is due, the real impetus for the alt-rock revolution of the early 1990's wasn't Seattle and Nirvana.
I knew little to nothing about The Used before writing this review. I knew lead singer Bert McCracken dated Kelly Osborne and throws up on stage, or something like that.
In the age of spell check and Internet slang, it's shocking to find those remaining few who still avidly read, study, and worship that old friend, the dictionary.