Girls On Film
No Greatest Hits DVD would be complete without topless female mud-wrestling -- at least that's how English synth-junkies Duran Duran see it.
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No Greatest Hits DVD would be complete without topless female mud-wrestling -- at least that's how English synth-junkies Duran Duran see it.
When I walk through campus, I don't see a lot of pretty faces; I see a lot of potential strippers. Big booty hoes and D-cupped boogie-babes amble through Penn's hallowed grounds without even realizing their potential -- to take off dem nasty clothes. With only a little nudging in the right direction, any number of these exhibitionist work-study students could have their legs wrapped 'round a pole. So don't be shy, baby. Rip off your Catholic school garb and get ready for an intriguing look under the 'wears of the many, the proud, the Strippers at Penn.
J-Lo's got nothing on the bodacious bevy of big beautiful butts that make sandwiches at Wawa. Those ladies are horrendously big boned. Cool. It's really impressive when you think about it. I just don't think you can cram much more ass on a body without having structural difficulties.
Aaron Lewis may be a moping and MTV-friendly Fred Durst suck-up, but his band isn't half bad live. On Saturday, Staind and Sevendust kicked off the first day of their tour with a sonic flurry of rock proportions.
Gia Pronto is Italian for "already ready" -- a fitting appellation considering that all their food is pre-prepared. If the food and the restaurant's name draw reminiscences to an authentic feast d'Italia, the layout leaves much to be desired. Walking into the restaurant, diners are greeted with the sanitized feel of stainless steel tables and art-deco track lighting. The ultramodern sensibility compares unfavorably with the dimly lit espresso bars they ought to emulate. Prepackaged salads line the walls, as does an array of mineral waters and vitamin shakes -- with the obligatory San Pelegrino claiming the most shelf space.
"You guys fucked up? I'm way ahead of you." Aaron Karo's words set the pace for an evening in which the bartenders served up the most interesting entertainment. Pennfest2003, a New York City event showcasing alumni up-and-comers in the entertainment industry took place on June 11 at the Knitting Factory in downtown NYC. The bill included an author/comedian, six live musical numbers, a magician, and 20+ film clips; enough to cull a sell-out crowd of 300 within the quaint accommodations. But, though the performers were many and varied, alumni and their guests mostly showed up to hang out with their old friends and have a few beers.
It was 3:00 p.m. on Monday and I was sitting in the Street office talking on the phone with Hunter, the elusive bassist from AFI. He doesn't have TV and he hasn't had a party in years, but his band's newest album Sing the Sorrow has hit billboard and AFI's fans are as devoted as ever. The album credits on Sing the Sorrow list you as Hunter. Do you have a last name? Do you have a last name? Yeah. Then I probably do to. What is your last name? Well, it's Hunter. I guess it's kind of a Cher thing, I like it. So, which band or artist has had the most influence on you? I don't know. I don't think there's anyone that's had the most. Like Flea maybe? Perhaps he's the inspiration for the one name? Yeah, I mean, I think he's a really great bass player. I don't think he's that much of my main influence at all though. I mean, the bass players that I take a lot of influence from are like James Jamerson or Jimmy Garrison or Eric Avery... Matt Freeman. Do you like MTV exposure? I don't have TV. I don't watch TV shows. It's something I really don't understand, I'm not exactly sure what really effects it has. Do you like that they put your video "Girls not Grey" on MTV... that you get increased financial success? Well, I don't think that it is more money necessarily. I think it definitely validates the video. I mean, I know that Dreamworks, and I guess us, spent a lot of time and money on creating the video so I would hope that it would be played on different mediums such as MTV, MTV2 and so forth, that's all good. So, there haven't been any marked changes in terms of your wardrobe or your car? I have the same car that I've had for four years, and I'm still wearing the same t-shirt that I've worn all week. [Laughs] Is the week in the same clothes a function of laziness or poverty? No, I mean -- There's one suitcase that contains my clothing, there's a set amount of items in there and that's what I've got to wear till I get a chance to go shopping. You're kind of minimalist in that sense. Do you throw crazy parties? Two years ago, I think my mom would tell me she threw birthday parties for me at my parents house and we invited like 10, 12 friends and we came over there and we had some pie, there were two ice cream options -- either real or fake ice cream. And then we played some games after that. That was the only party that I've had in maybe the past 15 years. Do any of the other band members engage in partying? Not as far as I know. I don't think there's ever been a... [Speaking away from the phone] Has any of us ever thrown a party as far as you know? We're just, you know, that's not of any interest to us. I mean, we had a record release party show that we played at if you wanna count that. This is probably why your fans are very devoted to you. You care more about the music than the exposure and success and stuff like that. The live shows must be the best part of it, right? Definitely, that's where it all comes together. That's where the songs that we've spent a lot of time writing and recording, all the sections of the show that we've spent time and money planning, you know, with the lights and here we put it in front of the audience and that's the biggest test. But its like, you know, if everything goes well it's the greatest reward. It's so fun. They usually go off really well without a hitch, and this tour we've had all the shows sell out which was really cool. Your bass hooks have been described as meaty, what's your favorite type of meat? Well, being vegan my favorite type of meat is end meat. Yeah, maybe nut meat... that's gross... I don't eat meat.
We've been to Philly in the history of Everclear 17 times, but there ain't no fuckin' place like the Electric Factory," lead singer Art Alexakis declared to a snow white horde of cheering adolescents. On April 17th, the West Coast trio took the Philadelphia stage in support of their newest release, Slow Motion Daydream. Blasting onto the set with "You Make Me Feel like a Whore" and following with "Heroin Girl," Everclear found instant approval among the punk ensemble. As the band continued through hits like "Wonderful" and "AM Radio," the artists visibly evolved from standard competent musicians into a rock spectacle. The bassist's dynamic antics almost required leashing as Craig Montoya could be found vigorously bouncing atop the speakers, wrestling with an uncooperative mike stand, and pumping out full body solos. Splicing occasional soft near-balladic moments among the power chords, Everclear confronted each moment of stage time with keen craft. Without allowing time to bask in the second-hand cigarette smoke, Alexakis pulled the spectators out of the daydreamy wonderment of "Pale Green Star" to proclaim, "This one goes out to all those who've been with us for years," before slamming into an edgier version of "I Will Buy You A New Life." Then, Everclear slipped gracefully into another hit from So Much for the Afterglow, "Father of Mine." Mid-song, the sick Ekland mustered up one of the sweetest drum solos to the mob's Alexakis-incited chant of "Puke... puke!" Pandering to the crowd while also playing god, Alexakis solicited the devotees for a guitar player and one lucky fan surely fit the bill. An androgynous Pat, clad in white t-shirt and jeans, was pulled up on stage to perform a professional rendition of "Santa Monica." Once Alexakis regained possession of his instrument, Everclear began hoisting up youngsters to dance to "Everything to Everyone." By the end, nearly 30 sweaty fans boogied to a cover of Cheap Trick's "Surrender" with the bassist standing confidently in the audience's arms. The finale's tomfoolery summed up the entirety of the show: Everclear can certainly produce a number of hit radio songs, but they have also realized the importance of engineering a vivacious live act.
The Berkeley, California-based quartet AFI crashes back onto the hardcore/punk scene with their Dreamworks debut Sing the Sorrow. AFI, which stands for A Fire Inside, imbued a goth-influenced murkiness into their trademark maelstrom and put a new spin on their melodic version of hardcore. The disc operates in the vein of 1999's Black Sails in Sunset while innovatively blending in the slower aspects of 2000's The Art of Drowning. Producers Butch Vig (Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins) and Jerry Finn (Green Day, Rancid) aptly facilitate AFI's more mature musicality.
Truly excruciating from beginning to end, Crooked Fingers's third full-length album falls embarrassingly short of endurable. Red Devil Dawn's fiercest inadequacy lies in the forlorn and sappy vocals orchestrated by former Archers of Loaf frontman, Eric Bachmann. His Bryan Adams-esque throaty grit inexpertly mixed over an unnaturally slow buzz sees the Indie group pump-faking sincerity yet delivering soporific drear. A throng of instrumentation occasionally outlasts the lead singer's alt-country croons, but most tracks leave the listener looking for something to dull the pain. "Angelina" carries an irritating and unceasing repetitive drum intonation that proves both distracting and uncomfortable. The unnecessary torpor on "Don't Say a Word" allows one to fully appreciate the preaching and morality of a formal alcoholic. Yet, as tiring as the melancholy bit becomes, Bachmann's best attempts at cheer feel out of place. "You Threw a Spark" and "Sweet Marie" feature horns rolled into an up-tempo merriment-inciting package. It just doesn't work. Red Devil Dawn's lone redeeming moment occurs when the disc ends. Bachmann's life story might serve as a viable platform for an aspiring artist; unfortunately he is too inept to capture his own experience in a vaguely interesting way. On the bright side, I never have to listen to this CD again. Sadly, my ears are still ringing.
In 1996, High/Low spawned the New York trio's lone hit, "Popular." Quite removed from their comparably glitzy mainstream debut, Nada Surf's minimalist indie-rock sensibilities set the tone for their third album Let Go. Switching record labels, the band relinquished the pretense of snaring mainstream acceptability, instead crafting thoughtful, personal delves into melancholic bliss. The sweet hum of the bass fused with the twinkling guitars nearly lulls the listener into a serene sublime state. Nada Surf's soft, poppy musicality and introspective lyrics breeds credibility. Unfortunately, the lack of range displayed by Caws' feathery crackling vocals dissolves the impact. His pubescent high-note scratch on the brooding yearn "Inside of Love" ruins an otherwise polished tune. Let Go draws unfavorable analogy to other artists in both name and style. Nada Surf's "Blonde on Blonde" looks farcical compared to Dylan's seminal work, which spins on Caws' portable stereo. "Hi-Speed Soul," kicks off with a hollowed-out guitar intro -- a device proved far more effective on The Hives' "Hate To Say I Told You So." And, the acoustic "Blizzard of '77" simulates Simon and Garfunkel's melodic form while displaying uncharacteristic insincerity. A few tracks shine through the pitch, almost in spite of the lead singer. The standout track, "The Way You Wear Your Head," carries a catchy repetitive structure and a familiar chorus over a serviceable rock montage. Likewise, the driving beat and guitar throng of "Treading Water" even suits Caws' meager talents. Nada Surf's competent musicianship displays a genuine disposition maintained throughout; sadly, their vocalist brings down the entire effort. On "Popular," Caw proved to possess an admirable speaking voice, but even over the chorus' guitar bedlam, his shortcomings were patently obvious. The purist may find love for this album, but should seek out a more professional package in the Flaming Lips or Wilco.
I remember it very clearly: I was a freshman, I had butterflies in the stomach and sweaty palms, and I was constantly clearing my throat while waiting for the big moment. No, it was not my first date. Actually, there was nothing overtly sexual about the experience. It was my first of two guest appearances on a WQHS radio show called Delicious Pimpin', which was later renamed Babble On.
As the most recent outlet of Papa Roach's collective frustration and rage, Lovehatetragedy explodes with unbridled power. Doing away with the forced rap delivery and the alias Coby Dick, Jacoby Shaddix and Papa Roach unleash their eagerly anticipated follow-up to the multi-platinum Infest.
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