Blogs

By Niki D'Andrea

Normally, I’m not a big fan of Christmas albums. I get stacks of them every year, and less than half of them actually make it into my CD player (really, I don’t need to hear Josh Groban’s take on “Little Drummer Boy” or James Taylor doing the umpteenth-thousandth cover of “Jingle Bells”).

But this year, I received A Taste of Christmas Pudding, an annual holiday compilation that features Phoenix artists doing their renditions of Christmas classics. There are two things that make this album stand apart from the seasonal stacks of wax for me. One is the sheer diversity of musical styles on the compilation. We open with a heavy metal cover of the creepiest Christmas song ever, “Carol of the Bells” by Karnage, before gliding into the soulful acoustic sounds of Haven James doing “Please Come Home for Christmas.” Ultimately, the 12-track CD wraps up with a raucous rendition of “Feliz Navida” by Kraised, with some garage-country (“Blue Christmas” by Juicy Newt), some funk (“Funky Desert Land” by Isle of Essence), and some frat boy rap-rock (“The Night Before Christmas” by Zoom & the Sporty Forties) in-between.

The album has nary a skip-worthy track, which is impressive to me because I’ve yet to find a hot holiday album that didn’t have me reaching for the “forward” button at some point (even Bootsy Collins’ ultra-festive, ultra-funky 2006 album Christmas Is 4 Ever contains a couple duds). This compilation also stands out for me because it provides a good entrée to the Phoenix music scene, and proceeds from sales of the CD benefit The Rock, which will be a youth center/concert venue in Phoenix (visit www.srfrock.org for more info.).

Since this is the season for giving, we’ve been gifted with four tracks from A Taste of Christmas Pudding for you to check out. Click on the links below to stream the songs. A complete track listing and information on how to purchase the album follows.

Happy holidays!

Jody Gnant: "My Favorite Things":

Aimless: "Hello Bedford Falls":

Juicy Newt: "Blue Christmas":

Playing God: "We Three Kings":

A Taste of Christmas Pudding track listing:

1. “Carol of the Bells”: Karnage
2. “Please Come Home for Christmas”: Haven James
3. “Hello Bedford Falls”: Aimless
4. “Frosty the Hit-Man”: Split the Enemy
5. “Blue Christmas”: Juicy Newt
6. “We Three Kings”: Playing God
7. “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”: The Foxfire Experiment
8. “Funky Desert Island”: Isle of Essence
9. “The Night Before Christmas”: Zoom & the Sporty Forties
10. “Oh Holy Night”: Brody Jace
11. “My Favorite Things”: Jody Gnant
12. “Feliz Navida”: Kraised

A Taste of Christmas Pudding is available at all Zia Record Exchange locations, at Alice Cooper’stown, and online at www.alicecooperstown.com, in the store section.

By Ben Westhoff

Out of Sync, the new memoir from former ‘N Sync member, failed cosmonaut and gay American Lance Bass, came out on October 23. (It’s surprisingly good.) Over the phone from New York – where he’s living while starring in the Broadway musical Hairspray as Corny Collins -- and speaking in a slight Southern twang, he was very congenial. We talked about his critical words for Justin Timberlake in the book (he felt “completely betrayed” when JT broke up the band for a solo career), coming out, and dating the actress who played Topanga in Boy Meets World.

You’re said to be a very private person. Was it hard to spill for the book?
It started out being really hard. Last year was a real confusing year for me, just because when I did decided to make it public that I was gay, it was very scary, because I didn’t know what the reaction was going to be. But because the reaction was so positive and I got so much support – I’ve been the happiest person ever -- that’s when I decided to write this book. I wanted to show how proud I am that now, in 2007, people are just so much more accepting than they were years ago.

Are you worried that the media is focusing on your relatively brief critique of Justin Timberlake?
Well, of course. That was my biggest concern. I didn’t write the book to talk about the breakup of ‘N Sync, but the story had to be said. I couldn’t just skip over it, because people would be like, ‘Are you kidding me? We’ve been asking that question for how many years, and you’re just going to skip over it?’ So I had to tell the story like it was, and I had to share my emotions. So, when I talk about that time in Miami when Justin told us he didn’t want to do it anymore, I wanted people to feel what I felt at that time. And it did feel like betrayal. I felt heartbroken. All these emotions went through me. Today, I’m really happy, and Justin and I are really great friends. I don’t hate him at all. And I understand what he was going through, and it was as hard for him as it was for any of us.

Were you surprised that Justin became such a huge solo star?
Oh no, not at all. We all knew Justin was going to become a huge solo artist. He’s a super talented guy. I thought any of the guys doing a solo album at that point would be huge. I thought JC [Chasez]’s album was going to be just as big as Justin’s, but it wasn’t. That’s just how much I love the guys and want to support them.

Your faith is a big issue in the book. Do you still go to church a lot?
Not as much as I want to. Especially here in New York. I haven’t found a place, and I really can’t because we have Sunday shows. But back in L.A. I have a church, Bel Air Presbyterian, actually, and I’m not even Presbyterian. But it’s a great church and they have really great music; that’s kind of why I chose it. They have this awesome rock band that plays.

What religion were you raised with?
I was raised Southern Baptist. Which probably explains why it took me so long to come out. [Laughs.] There are great people in the south, and religion was a huge part of my life.

Could you elaborate a little bit more on your theory as concerns God and homosexuality? In the book, you say you believed the two jive, as God created you to be gay. Do you ever quote scripture on this issue?
No. I just kind of stay out of it. I don’t want to try to change people’s minds on their own religion, because all you do is piss people off when you talk about politics and religion. And I don’t know that much about politics or religion, so I just play dumb. I just believe what I believe. I consider myself Christian. I believe in God. I have my own personal relationship with my religion, and it really has nothing to do with any group of people. There’s a lot of things I believe from Christianity, there’s a lot of things I believe from Buddhism, from a lot of different religions. I’m lucky enough to be able to travel around the world and meet all different kinds of people of all different religions.

Like I said in the book, around five years old I knew [I was gay], when I first started having memories. And that tells me right there that I was made this way. Nothing in my life “made me gay.” I remember in as a five year old kindergarten, there was a boy in there I had a crush on. So, right then I knew I was different.

Do you stand by your description of yourself as a “straight-acting gay” – i.e. someone not obviously or stereotypically homosexual -- even though gay activist groups have criticized it?
No. Especially back then… I’m so new to terminology and all that kind of stuff, I’m going to say things that are probably dumb, that are probably going to be scrutinized. People need to understand – I don’t know all the answers. I haven’t been schooled in what to say. I’m a gay guy, I’ve always been gay, and now people are really interested in my story. I try not to talk about it -- that’s why I really didn’t do any interviews last year, except for one because I didn’t want to embarrass myself or the gay community. In that one interview, I talked about how my friends always call me a ‘sag’ (straight-acting gay) instead of a fag. That was just a personal thing I shared. What I was trying to say was that the only type of gay that used to be portrayed on film and television was just the stereotypical gay community. I was trying to say that there are so many types of gay people, just like there are so many types of straight people. And that just didn’t read well. I didn’t explain it well.

How come you don’t talk about Danielle Fishel [a.k.a Topanga from Boy Meets World] in the book?
I don’t know. It’s something that, in hindsight, I can’t believe I skipped over. This week, when I did Tyra, they surprised me by bringing Danielle out as a guest. And then it dawned on me that I didn’t even talk about this relationship [in the memoir]. It would have been so good to put in the book. Because so many people in the gay community go through having a girlfriend, and then realize, ‘I’m gay -- why am I with this girl?’ And they realize how mean it is to put that girl through that.

On Tyra, we brought all that up. We talked about every intimate detail of that relationship, and I think that’s going to help a lot of gay people in relationships like that. Like, ‘Oh my God, that’s exactly what I’m going through. I need to stop this.’

Did you guys sleep together?
No. We talked about that -- when we were going to. I talk about how she was a virgin at the time. I didn’t want to do anything, because I knew I’d come out of the closet eventually, and I was thinking ahead, and didn’t want her to say, ‘I lost my virginity to a gay guy.’ All that stuff goes through your head, and it’s so tormenting.

Have you ever had a sexual relationship with a woman?
Back in high school, the early days of ‘N Sync, before Danielle, I did. You try to play that part. You had to do that. I just never loved them, and it wasn’t ever someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Has anyone in ‘N Sync read your book yet?
I don’t know yet. They all have the book. I sent it to them like two weeks ago. They all said, ‘We’re reading it,’ but I don’t think they read. [Laughs.] But I know for a fact, Joey’s manager, and Justin’s mom, all of them have read it. So people around them have read it, which is good, so they know exactly what’s in there. I didn’t want anyone to look bad in the book.

So how much of the book was written by you, and how much by Mark Eliot, who wrote the forward?
Oh Mark, he helped a lot. I have great ideas and I can speak, but I can’t put a sentence together. I’m terrible at that. That’s just the way I work. Mark was just so great about that, where I would just dictate everything, and he would put it down into book form, where everyone could read it and it would make sense.

Have any desire to ever go back to Russia and try again for space?
I do, actually. I got so close. I went ahead and got certified. It’s definitely still a dream of mine. It’s coming back up. Everyone’s kind of talking about it, within my group. A lot of sponsors have come forward and wanted to do a documentary and different studies. It might happen in the next few years.

By Roy Kasten

Ike Turner: November 5, 1931 -- December 12, 2007

Every obit, blog post, and newscast will not fail to mention his despicable treatment of his ex-wife Tina Turner -- so consider it mentioned.

What those voices will not tell you is what you can only hear and feel in the urgency and ambition of his music. From his rock & roll-christening fuzzed guitar on "Rocket 88" to his psychedelic gospel funk; from his unvarnished tremolo on uncountable electric blues singles to the black-power groove of the instrumentals he recorded with another St. Louis master, Oliver Sain; from his transformation of rhythm & blues into rock into soul (and then back again), to his electrification of the wildest stage spectacles that pop music had ever seen, Ike Turner deserves the appellation visionary -- and can hold his own with touchstone figures such as Scott Joplin, Chuck Berry and Miles Davis.

St. Louis -- nay, the nation -- owes him a debt. And not just for his music, but for his contributions to our cultural life. During the '50s, he refused to play segregated venues in East St. Louis -- and as a result, those venues were desegregated. Ike helped Tina choreograph her moves -- and then got the hell out of the way so she could move on her own. (Mick Jagger, among countless others, would never be the same.)

Born in Clarksdale, Mississippi, he could have been a commanding blues figure (he had the guitar chops and the repertoire), but despite his reputation for ego-mania, his musical ideas were ultimately collective and collaborative, and couldn't be bound by pure blues. He was a force that could bring out greatness in others -- whether it was Otis Rush, Howlin' Wolf, Fontella Bass or Tina.

Tom Ray, DJ and co-owner of Vintage Vinyl, described Turner's appearance at the 50th Anniversary show for the Oliver Sain Soul Revue at the Pageant: "He stole the show the moment he sat down at the piano. Oliver had this big band -- ten, twelve pieces. We were watching Ike direct the band with his shoulder blades, his nose, his eyebrows, his fingers, his mouth. He was cueing every section, and they were following him."

The myth of Stagger Lee dies hard, but Turner was no myth. He was the baddest of the baddest black men, and no one should (or will) ignore the brutality of his record. But that brutality should not (and cannot) drown out the wild, soulful, electrifying sounds and style of a true American original.

By Steve Jansen
Photos by Luke Holwerda

Better than: Everything

Shows to see before I die:

Björk
Led Zeppelin
Radiohead
Stevie Wonder (check)

When I was a fourth grader at Tempe’s Curry Elementary, a couple of kids cornered me on the playground. Their agenda? They wanted to let me know how they truly felt about me.

Back then, in 1986, there were a number of standard verbal assaults. “Queer bait” was a classic blast. If you drank from the last spout of the four faucet drinking fountain, you were consuming “pee.” And, if your name was Mike, your self-esteem would be much better off in a home school environment, because anyone with this namesake was subject to incessant taunts of “Mikey likes it” from the Life Cereal commercials:

Save for the Mikey thing, I was subject to anything and everything a snot-nosed punk could dish out. But on this particular teasing session, I heard a brand-new insult.

“Look! It’s Stevie Wonder!”

Damn. That hurt.

I’ve always gone by Steve. Not Stephen (my birth name), Stevie, Steve-a-rino, Steve-o, or any other lame derivative. So, in those moments, I wondered where they had picked up such a filthy thing to say.

I don’t really remember if I cried like a pussy, countered with a verbal blitzkrieg of my own, or looked sheepishly into the ground. All I recall is that I felt super upset that somebody had compared me to some head-swaying blind dude. Looking back, they probably clowned me because my well-meaning mother would dress me in alligator polo shirts, Ocean Pacific nut huggers, and neon yellow Chuck Taylor’s, and not because of my name.

If only I could give my nine year-old self a talking to, especially after seeing Mister Wonderland in concert last night at Glendale’s Jobing.com Arena. My younger self would realize what a dumbass he was back then.

The 57 year-old soul conquistador wrapped up what he said was “his first ever tour” with a totally righteous two-and-a-half hour performance (no intermission) on a stage bathed in a sea of guitars, percussion instruments, keyboards, and backup singers (in all, 12 members).

Stevie Wonder and his (literally) big band. Watch Luke Holwerda's slideshow from the Stevie Wonder concert.

This was my first arena show since age 16, when I willingly paid money to see Boyz II Men at what is now known as the U.S. Airways Center (don’t make fun, a’ight? It was good shit). I spend a majority of my concert-watching time with patchouli-scented kids sitting Indian-style on the floor of experimental performance venues. Because of this, I experienced genuine culture shock walking into the faux-glitzy Westgate Center.

But once I got over the lame concession stand photos of cold cuts and the woman in section 111, row C, seat 12 -- who felt it necessary to yammer during the quieter songs -- I was able to tune out the stimuli and bathe in Stevie’s signature soul style.

Wonder’s daughter and background vocalist, Aisha Morris, escorted her legendary father to the stage, where he told a story about the death of his mother. (Lula Mae Hardaway passed away on May 31, 2006, which Wonder said was “the worst day of his life.”) Following a long grieving process, he decided at the last minute (and to the chagrin of his promoter) to embark on this “A Wonder Autumn Night” tour.

Wonder and his daughter/backup singer, Aisha Morris.

The set list:

Love’s In Need Of Love Today
Too High
Visions
Living for the City
Master Blaster (Jammin’)
Higher Ground
Golden Lady
Ribbon in the Sky
Overjoyed
You and I (We Can Conquer the World)
Send One Your Love
How Will I Know (from 2005’s A Time to Love)
If You Really Love Me
Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing
Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours
Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours (country version)
My Cherie Amor
Sir Duke
I Wish
You Are the Sunshine of My Life
Superstition
Fever
I Just Called to Say I Love You
As

The always outspoken Wonder used the stage for his inspirational information during “Visions.” The diatribe -- updated with social, political, and religious issues shrouding planet Earth 2007 -- sounded more like a rallying cry than a bitch session.

In between “Master Blaster (Jammin’)” and “Higher Ground,” Wonder used a vocal alternating device that made him sound like a robot. He did quick breakdowns of soul classics such as “By the Time I Get to Phoenix,” The Stylistics’ “Betcha By Golly Wow,” and “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge.

During the conclusion of “Ribbon in the Sky,” Wonder performed an improvised ditty, where he sounded (and looked) like a panting dog in heat. From there, a totally amazing ode to John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” followed the love song “You and I.” Then, during “If You Really Love Me,” he did another tight2def soul medley, with amazing interpretations of James Brown’s “Say It Loud (I’m Black and I’m Proud)” and “It’s Alright” by Curtis Mayfield.

Stevie Wonder: Aptly named.

The latter half of the gig was most definitely the time for crowd-pleasing. The joint erupted during “Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours” and a subsequent down-home country interpretation of the tune, as well as “My Cherie Amor,” “Sir Duke,” and, of course, “Superstition.”

To end the show, Wonder spoke candidly during “As.” What came out of the peace ambassador’s mouth was truly a shock: “If you really feel the need to hate, if you really, really feel the need, then you can die and go to hell.”

Dang!

Overall, the concert felt way too short. I definitely could’ve sat there for another couple of hours. It’s also amazing that Wonder still possesses a fresh set of vocal chords akin to a young American Idol contestant.

I’ll definitely be seeing him again if he comes back to town. By the way, no jokes about how he won’t be able to see me, please.

Personal bias: Not since D’Angelo’s Voodoo Tour show at Chicago’s Arie Crown Theater did I feel like two-and-a-half hours of music wasn’t enough.

Random detail: Celebs in attendance included Iron Mike Tyson and ex-Phoenix Suns star Cedric Ceballos. They both joined Wonder onstage during the gig’s final tune.

By Niki D’Andrea
Photos by Luke Holwerda

Better than: Living in a city where nobody will book hip-hop shows.

I love a good rock show, but one of my complaints about modern rock “concerts” is that there aren’t enough spontaneous jams. If a “surprise guest” comes out at a rock concert, it’s usually only a surprise to the audience, and the singer’s not gonna just hand the microphone to whomever jumps onstage while the band maintains some extemporaneous groove behind it all. Everything is so planned out, so meticulously calculated, that the rush of a “surprise” is almost impossible for rock.

Not so for hip-hop. What I witnessed at the KRS-One show tonight brought music back to its source – the people. The former front man of Boogie Down Productions performed for almost two hours, and capped off his set with a freestyle jam that included Phoenix’s own Grime and Cut Throat Logic, as well as a surprise (for everybody) appearance by Luckyiam of the Living Legends. Quite frankly, it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen at a local hip-hop show. Or any hip-hop show, period.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The evening started with a packed house that included several hundred hip-hop fans of every color, age, and style, from the backpacker set to the urban bangers. The crowd was relatively calm and collected – until the first act, Grime, hit the stage.

Grime
I regret that it took me so long to see Grime perform. I recently made a sort of “best of” list of Arizona hip-hop acts, and several readers pointed out that Grime should have been included in that list. After his performance, I’d have to say I’d agree; Grime is one of the best hip-hop MCs in the Valley. The half-Pakistani MC spits some serious lyrics with a hard political slant, referencing everybody from Obama to Osama to Saddam. He’s a revolutionary in more than one sense of the word, and his raps are filled with a fire that makes people move to his message (DJ Konradio’s militant beats help, too). When Grime raps, “You can’t fight no revolution without guns/You can’t win no revolution without love,” the entire audience becomes a sea of waving arms and raised fists. Throughout his set, Grime throws free CDs and T-shirts into the audience; by the time he’s done, he’s probably given away several dozen of each. (Read Brendan Joel Kelley’s feature story on Grime here).

Grime tore up the Brickhouse, opening for KRS-One
Watch Luke Lolwerda's slideshow from the KRS-One concert.

Grime's DJ, Konradio.

Cut Throat Logic
CTL has been kicking it live in the Valley for more than ten years, and though the crew has changed (the only remaining MCs are co-founder Justus and Deonte), the vibe hasn’t: CTL is still pure, innovative energy, incorporating everything from violin samples and rock guitars to soul singing and beatbox into its sound. The group’s lyrics have always referenced Phoenix people, places, and events, and they’re representing Arizona more than ever before. Justus says that years ago, he invented a hand symbol – the “A,” basically formed by crossing two peace signs into the shape of the letter A – to represent the Arizona hip-hop scene, and tonight, he’s got the whole audience throwing up their “A’z” when he performs “Get Your A’z Up.” Justus’ partner in rhyme, Deonte, glides through smooth rhymes that provide a perfect contrast for Justus’ scorching spits (and he’s a mean beatboxer, too). Rok from local rap collective Society of Invisibles opened the set with a spoken word number, and did some more fast-paced philosophizing later in the set, before CTL closed out for KRS-One to take the stage. But everybody who’d already been onstage would be back, and then some.

Cut Throat Logic MC Justus.

And his partner in rhyme, Deonte.

To show pride in Arizona hip-hop, CTL gets the crowd to throw their "A'z" up.

KRS-One
There’s not a lot to say about Kris Parker, a.k.a. KRS-One, that doesn’t involve accolades. The New York-born MC is considered a legend by his peers and a god by his students, which is one of the reasons he’s nicknamed “The Teacha.” Lyrically, KRS-One has always provided socially conscious, forward-thinking philosophies, with some great turns of phrase and wordsmithing. He harks back to the “old school” world of hip-hop, when MCs would freestyle all night and the music was stripped down to some hot beats and a turntable. With a discography that stretches back to 1987 (when Boogie Down Productions released Criminal Minded), KRS-One had a lot of material from which to pull for the show. And while he performed many fan favorites – including “Sound of Da Police,” “MCs Act Like They Don’t Know,” and “Black Cop” – the highlights of the night were the freestyle jams. First, he brought Valley dancers the Furious Styles Crew onstage, who busted out some serious battle breakdance moves behind KRS-One during “Step into a World (Rapper’s Delight).” Next, he asked the MCs who’d opened the show to join him onstage. So Justice, Deonte, and Grime all got onstage and took turns passing around the mic. KRS-One’s flows were flawless, and AZ’s MCs more than held their own. When Grime finished spitting a slick 16 bars, KRS-One took the mic and rapped about how Grime was the man and tore it up. Justus was jumping up and down and pumping his fist while Deonte freestyled a homage to The Teacha. Then, KRS-One saw Luckyiam from L.A.’s Living Legends crew by the side of the stage and laughed with surprise. Luckyiam watched some more of the freestyle, then walked onstage and joined. The wall-to-wall audience was going insane. Furious Styles Crew was still up there, as well, adding to the army that rocked the house. KRS-One told the audience more than once that he was a freestyle rapper and could stay there until 5 a.m. He got offstage around 1 a.m., but the throng of hip-hop fans would’ve gladly stayed up all night with him.

Phoenix's Furious Styles crew joined KRS-One onstage.

The legendary KRS-One

Another freestyle?

Personal bias: I was actually onstage for part of the show, too. But not rapping. Just standing beside the DJ, bobbing my head and looking awestruck.

Random detail: Before Cut Throat Logic began performing, Justus gave away a brand new, three-foot tall, neon green bong from It’s All Goodz to one lucky (and soon to be smooty) audience member, saying, “I quit smoking, but weed is still my sponsor. You smell me?”

By Steve Jansen
Photos by Luke Holwerda

Better than: A wet dream

I don’t know what it is, but I have a sick obsession with Japanese noise/punk music. Like, a for-real manic obsession bordering on a permanent stay in a padded cell at the loony bin.

I think the fixation started when I discovered John Zorn’s Naked City in the ’90s. Mind you, the sick-o group was made up by a bunch of maniacal white dudes (Zorn, Joey Baron, Bill Frisell, Wayne Horvitz, Fred Firth), but it’s Yamatsuka Eye’s Tasmanian Devil timbre on select LPs that speak to my inner weird-o. Plus, I love that Eye’s inaudible, wordless vocals are backed by an anything-goes, straitjacket-esque ensemble.

As a result, I nearly cream myself in anticipation whenever bands like Japanese action comic book group Peelander-Z or noise-rock band Melt-Banana, who performed Hollywood Alley for the second time this year, come to town. (Yes, they are that good. Come pun intended, BTW.)

Watch Luke Holwerda's slideshow from the Melt-Banana show.

For the Melt-Banana (MxBx) virgin, the Tokyo-based group has been around since ’92, and has released eight full-length albums and 23 EPs. The gender-equal foursome (two women, two men) forever tour the States and the U.K., mostly because they don’t get much love in their home country. Instead, they attract a dedicated following here, myself included.

Monday’s set began with lead vocalist Yasuko Onuki carrying a gigantic fake tarantula on stage while bassist Rika mm’, electric guitarist Ichirou Agata, and stickman Oshima took their places. The first tune featured sampled sounds of barking dogs before MxBx detonated into “1.21 gigawatts” of energy. (Remember Christopher Lloyd in Back to the Future?) Onuki’s vocal pyrotechnics were a perfect complement to the blistering “rhythm section,” and Agata’s pedal-modified guitar shreds, which reminded me of the sound FX on that old Atari game Asteroids, hopped up on speed.

Melt-Banana singer Yasuko Onuki and her giant tarantula.

Throughout the eve’s performance, the music vacillated between noise and punk with elements of rock and free jazz (my other, more frenzied sonic obsession). Freakazoid compositions, comped by hyperactive vocals and tenacious drum accompaniment, were the norm. When Agata decided to get noisy with his concussion-inducing pedal effects, it never felt over-the-top or like I was watching some lame-o, droning noise band.

Guitarist Ichirou Agata has some sick pedal effects.

Standard to MxBx’s performances is a series of rapid fire songs. Tonight, the first tune’s duration lasted maybe a minute and a half. The final five cuts ranged from 4-15 seconds in length, with Onuki announcing each in her girlish speaking voice. (I couldn’t catch any of the song titles.)

The insane level of intensity would last for 50 continuous minutes. I’ve seen MxBx before and watching them again reminded me that part of the pleasure is this powerful force. There’s no gimmicky stage antics or arbitrary visual effects, though it’s a trip to see Rika mm’ -- who stands at maybe 4 ft. 8” with legs spread eagle -- play the shit out of her bass.

There’s no way that the clinical, sterile environs of a recording studio can capture these highly-recommended live sets. I own a couple of their vinyls, include Cell-Scape, and honestly, they’re almost unlistenable -- not for the production quality or anything like that, but because it’s like hearing a MxBx imposter.

Melt-Banana: Nothing like 'em live.

Overall, there aren’t any publicity stunts with these cats. Yeah, the human-sized hairy arachnid was a nice eccentric touch and the band name is quite infectious, but there’s nothing else about the group that screams “sideshow.” (For example, how many of you can honestly say that you’ve seen Gwar for the music and not the circus?)

Pure and simple, Melt-Banana knows how to assault their instruments without raping the listener’s eardrums.

Random fact: One of my friend’s who went with me (a New Times freelancer) made the following comment during MxBx’s encore: “My butt loves Melt Banana.” It was a positive sentiment. I think?

Personal bias: I love listening to screaming women, Onuki included.

By Michael Alan Goldberg

Not long ago, a three-CD, 50-track collection of America-themed songs that’s titled, appropriately enough, Song of America, arrived in stores. What’s so special about that? Well, aside from the fact that it features freak folker Devendra Banhart (“Little Boxes”) and Springsteen acolytes Marah (“John Brown’s Body”) alongside the likes of soul diva Bettye LaVette (“Streets of Philadelphia”) and Chevy rocker John Mellencamp (“This Land is Your Land”), the set was executive produced, oddly enough, by Clinton-era Attorney General Janet Reno (no, “Burning Down the House” isn’t on there, but thanks for playing). Apparently, she and her niece’s husband, a record producer, conceived the idea a few years ago, and even made a trip to the 2005 Grammys to get artists to sign on to the project. “I just hope that people will have the opportunity to hear [Song of America] and to see what songs can do to inspire and to motivate and to give people a sense of themselves," Reno recently told NPR.

Janet Reno: Patriotic matriarch of song?

But then, we thought, wow, Janet Reno gets to decide which songs define the American experience? Certainly, the current administration must have its own musical vision of our great nation they’d like to impose upon -- I mean, share with us. So we imagined that we rang up the White House and got Dubya on the horn, and we pretended he was a great sport, and that he quickly rattled off a hypothetical handful of tunes he’d include in a similarly themed collection, and even explained his choices:

The Circle Jerks: “Killing for Jesus”
“Y’know, Jesus helped me to quit drinkin’, and as a way of sayin’ thanks to Jesus, I started bombin’ the holy hell outta all those non-believers over there in the Middle East. It’s the American way, my friend -- we like to give thanks. Perhaps you’ve heard of a little holiday called Thanksgiving? Heh, heh. That’s what we do.”

Lee Greenwood: “God Bless the U.S.A”
“I’m hoping that before I leave office, Congress will ratify a new amendment to the Constitution that makes this song our new national anthem. I mean, come on, what the heck’s a ‘rampart,’ anyway? I can’t remember half the damn ‘Star-Dangled Banner,’ but I sure as heck know these incredibly eloquent, poetic words: ‘I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free.’”

Men Without Hats: “The Safety Dance”
“My job as president is to keep America safe at all costs. See, there’s an old saying by one of America’s founding fathers, Benjamin Franklin, maybe you know it: ‘Those who are at liberty to essentially…,’ …uhh…‘Those who would purchase some safety don’t deserve it unless…,’ …umm…look, we gotta be safe. What? Men Without Hats are Canadian? Ehh, scratch that one.”

“Hail to the Chief”
“Let me give you a little bit of history -- this song has been played to announce the arrival of the President of the United States ever since one of our best presidents, James J. Pork -- I believe he was our nation’s 59th commander of the chiefs in the 17th century -- began the tradition in 18…umm, 18-something. Wait, no, is the century number higher than the year thingy or lower? I can’t ever remember that one, heh heh. But I believe this is one of our most important songs, because the President of the United States is the smartest, the greatest, the most importantest, and the most powerful person on Earth, who can put you in jail forever for no reason, and so he should be hailed by everyone all the time. I’m hailing myself right now, heh heh…heh heh.”

The Team America soundtrack: “America, Fuck Yeah!”
“Every time I get a little bit down about the war in Iraq, Vice President Cheney slips this one into the boombox on my desk and it cheers me right up. Now, don’t get me wrong, unlike Dick, I believe that the use of swear words coarsens this great nation of ours, and I could do without the licking of the butt and the sucking of the balls, but since I am the decider and that can be a tough job sometimes, I’m decidering to pick this one. You just can’t argue with any song that goes, ‘Terrorist your game is through ‘cause now you have to answer to America!’” Fuck yeah!! I mean, heck yeah!!”

George W. Bush: Doesn't he just look like such a rock 'n' roller?

Photos and Review by Benjamin Leatherman

Better Than: Trying to skank at a No Doubt show.

A lot of people out there despise the Aquabats with a passion. Jaded music critics, surly rock fans, and even the security thugs at Aquabats shows love to drink the hater-ade on the Orange County ska-pop group. They usually crack on their simplistic and silly lyrics, obnoxious stage antics, and ostentatious superhero costumes. One particularly nasty diss came from the pierced mouth of some bitter record clerk at Zia, who labeled them “KISS for 12-year-olds.”

And while the slur seems a little vicious, its fairly apropos, since, like the painted-up demons from Detroit Rock City, the Aquabats have an overly-enthusiastic fan base who will dedicatedly buy up each of the band’s albums and turn out en mass at their shows, with or without costumes.

Aquabats fans loves them some costumed antics. Watch Benjamin Leatherman's slideshow from the Aquabats show.

It’s not just the ‘Bats inanely screwy songs which bring them out time and time again (at least not completely), it’s also the oddly gleeful and upbeat sense of togetherness they get through the band’s music and at their gigs, which are like an “Island of Misfit Toys” for teens, early twentysomething-aged music scenesters. Most of the fans could care less that the heyday of ska was a decade ago, and that the music world has moved on to “Hey There Delilah” -- they just prefer rock out in their own way, like Napoleon Dynamite dancing to Jamiroquai in his moon boots in front of the whole school.

Even the banana boy showed up at the gig.

Although some of the Aquabats faithful (myself included) dislike that the band has abandoned its more-traditional ska-like roots over the past few years for a more hornless and mainstream pop sound, they’ll still turn out in droves for their shows, like they did the other night at the Marquee Theatre in Tempe.

While it was chilly and raining outside, it was practically sweltering inside the cavernous venue, as at least 2,000 Aquacadets jammed into the joint and braved an über-shitty parking situation as most of the available spots near the theater were gobbled up by patrons from the Tempe Festival of the Arts and the Arizona State versus U of A game at Sun Devil Stadium. “I can hardly breathe,” one concertgoer remarked as he worked his way out of the sweaty mass of people surrounding the stage and headed to the bathrooms.

The crowd was packed, jacked, and ready to attack.

It was definitely a ska punk-friendly crowd to be sure, as the folks who weren’t dressed in the standard band costume (usually consisting of a silver foam latex helmet, Zorro mask, a pseudo Aquabats championship belt, and a band tee shirt) sported shirts for groups like Big D and the Kids Table, Reel Big Fish, and Operation Ivy. Aquabats fans are an already fairly raucous and energetic bunch, but they were extra keyed up tonight, and the trio of high-energy opening acts of The Stitch Up (alt-rockers from L.A.), Suburban Legends (ska-poppers from Orange County), and Streetlight Manifesto (skapunkers from New Jersey) fed the crowds’ fervor to the Nth degree.

Keyboard and saxophone guru Jimmy the Robot gets some blow time during “Super Rad.”

So when the five members of the Aquabats took the stage (after an amusing video where they rode horses through the desert), the place exploded harder than Hiroshima. Frenetic frontman MC Bat Commander and his crew wasted no time kicking the gig into gear with their two biggest songs, “Fashion Zombies” and “Super Rad,” and the audience went batshit (pun very much intended). During these anthems, the commander bounced around the stage like a spring, performing leaps and jumps to the music, in addition to strutting and posing his ass off.

The MC Bat Commander does his best ballerina pose.

Despite the fact that spectators were acting raucous – including skanking, pogoing, flashing the Aquabats’ hand signal and crowd-surfing up a storm -- there was hardly any slam dancing to be seen, which, in a sense, reinforces the Aquabats philosophy of positiveness and just having a goofy good time, without all the usual music scene posturing and dramatics.

The true fans know the Aquabats hand signal by heart.

Speaking of goofiness, during most Aquabats concerts, the band offers a multimedia video show projected on a screen above the stage, featuring nutty bits of stock footage, cuts from obscure flicks, and newsreel highlights befitting each song (much like their kindred spirit “Weird Al” Yankovic). For instance, during “Pizza Day,” the screen was lit up with clips of cafeteria food and excerpts from ‘80s films. The concert was also quite interactive, as songs like “Pool Party” had the ‘Bats throwing out inflatable beach balls from the stage and “Throw Away The Trash!” saw MC Bat Commander holding a large plastic garbage can for audience members to toss trash into. (Maybe that’s where Peachcake got the whole silly string-spewing and stuffed animals-slinging shtick from). The commander also interacted with his minions during “Hi-Five City!,” when he encouraged those in attendance to live out the song’s message then and there.

Guitarist Eagle Falconhawk points his axe at the crowd.

“I know there’s a lot of you standing around saying, ‘I’m not gonna give the guy next to me a high five,” he said. “But that’s what the terrorists want, so start dropping some high fives. If there was a giant claw that could drop us all into some terrorist area, we could high five our way to victory!”

The MC Bat Commander beckons to his minions.

Other amusing bits of between-song antics included a moment of silence for the recently-deceased Evel Knievel (which was actually news to some audience members), and the commander jokingly professing his affection for this state and its Aquacadets, even if it seemed like a “I heard Phoenix likes to party!” kind of shout-out.

“Tonight’s show is about love, the love we share together,” he said. “We’ve been coming to Arizona for a while…like over two years…and we may not be the best band in the world, but there’s no better fans than the Arizonians!”

Bassist Crash McLarson does his thing.

After performing “Hello, Good Night” from The Aquabats Vs. The Floating Eye Of Death!, the band did their usual leaving-the-stage-only-to-come-back-for-an-encore shtick, where an amusing video plays of them exiting the venue and hopping into a waiting jet, only to return when they hear the chants of the fans begging for more. In this instance, however, it was updated to feature the Aquabats riding away on horseback and firing off sixshooters (which fit with the opening video).

Once that comical formality was out of the way, they exploded into “Look at Me (I'm a Winner)!,” followed by a lengthy “bedtime song” where the commander serenaded the Arizona fans about how much they rule, and a rendition of “Captain Hampton and the Midget Pirates” before calling it a night.

As the lights went up in the Marquee, the fans were gleefully high-fiving each other as they filed out into the cold in good spirits. Sure, it might seem a little lame, but it sure beat getting into drunken brawls in the parking lot.

The (Mostly Complete) Set List:
1. “Fashion Zombies”
2. “Super Rad”
3. “Circle of Love”
4. “Pizza Day”
5. “Hi-Five City!”
6. “Martian Girl”
7. “Throw Away The Trash!”
8. “Pool Party”
9. “Red Sweater”
10. “Hello, Good Night”
11. “Look at Me (I'm a Winner)!”
12. Storytime song/Praise for Arizona
13. “Captain Hampton and the Midget Pirates”

Personal Bias: I bought Fury of the Aquabats the week it came out.

Random Fact: The MC Bat Commander (real name: Christian Richard Jacobs) is a lifelong member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

By Benjamin Leatherman
Photos by Luke Holwerda

Better than: Getting assimilated by the Borg…or the Republican Party.

I have a confession to make: Robots used to scare the shit outta me. I mean, really scare the shit outta me.

I don’t know what it was about automatons and androids, but during my pre-pubescent years, these mechanical menaces used to give me Texas Chainsaw Massacre-sized levels of terror, particularly the junky, lo-fi kind of machines that looked like they were cobbled together by some mad scientist. (Cartoon robots like The Transformers and Voltron were a-okay, though). Remember all those freaky mechanoids that filled that weird-ass, early '80s video for “Rock It” by Herbie Hancock that aired in heavy rotation during MTV’s embryonic years? That shit used to give me nightmares, as did the vid for Lou Reed’s “No Money Down” (where a robotic doppelganger of the rock icon tears its face to shreds).

Pre-pubescent nightmare fuel

Although I’ve overcome such robo-phobia (for the most part, anyway), automatons still fascinate and kinda frighten me, which might explain why I’m such a fan of the bizarre ‘borgs that make up Captured! By Robots. If you don’t know the back story behind the group, it goes something like this: fed up with usual drama of performing with humans, musician Jay Vance (formerly of Skankin’ Pickle and the Blue Meanies) created a band of instrument-toting robots (such as GTRBOT666, DRMBOT0110, and so forth), which became self-aware, and then enslaved and disemboweled their former master, dubbed him JBOT, clad him in chains and a mask, and forced him to perform as their lead singer.

The robots themselves are quite grotesque, possessing disembodied body parts and looking kinda like junkyard versions of the Terminator, as they blast out hardcore metal and talk in mechanized robotic vocals that are preprogrammed by Vance. Between songs, they stage amusing vignettes where they usually torture and insult JBOT. In addition to this sadistic psychodrama, C!BR has also done several “theme” shows (dedicated to Star Trek or other topics), where both the robots and JBOT are clad in costume and perform songs based on the subject.

For the band’s most recent tour, JBOT and his crew decided to take things in a bit more satirical and political direction by lampooning President George W. Bush and his entire presidency. To wit, each of the various robots were dressed like members of the Bush administration or other superstars of the national political scene, such as GTRBOT666 becoming Dick Cheney, DRMBOT0110 serving as a demonic Condi Rice, and AUTOMATOM playing deceased Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein.

GTRBOT666 as the Veep Watch a slideshow from the concert.

DRMBOT0110 plays the role of Condi Rice

Saddam lives on in AUTOMATOM

Rounding out the cast were the tambourine-playing “Ape Which Hath No Name” as Wolf Blitzer, the “Son of Ape Which Hath No Name” as speaker of the house Nancy Pelosi, the HEADLESS HORNSMEN as the “Presidential Hopefuls Horn Section” (consisting of Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton, and Fred Thompson), and JBOT himself assaying the role of Dubya, clad in a comical mask in the vein of Genesis’ “Land of Illusion.”

JBOT donned the Dubya mask to become “JBUSH”

Kicking off this weeknight of weirdness was Tucson’s Flagrante Delicto, an eclectic bass-keyboard-drum trio of shabby-chic hippie musicians who specialize in “pirate-gypsy-swing-circus-punk” that’s got a worldly-yet-otherworldly vibe to it. It’s kinda like a mix of Oingo Boingo and Mr. Bungle with a chaser of Weird Al, or better yet, Gogol Bordello without the Eastern European influences.

Tucson trio Flagrante Delicto jam out

After the beatnik boys of Flagrante Delicto finished their seven-song set, JBOT began setting up the robots while a soundtrack of pro-U.S.A. pop and rock -- including Neil Diamond’s “Coming to America,” James Brown’s “Living in America,” and the hilarious “America Fuck Yeah!” from Team America: World Police -- blared over the Rhythm Room’s loudspeakers. The throng of 50 or so fans who packed the joint dug the latter song, singing along and doing the whole hook ‘em horns and headbanging routine.

JBUSH entertains the crowd.

Eventually, JBOT donned his freakish Dubya mask and asked the crowd, “How many of you out there are ready to R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.?” before launching into the speed metal version of “Hail to the Chief.” The entire evening was a raucous retrospective of the past seven years since Bush took office, with “I am Bush” and “Hanging Chads” detailing his arrival on the political landscape and the electoral kerfuffle of 2000, “9/11” and “Let’s Start a War” covering the tragedy of September 11 and the resulting conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, and “I Got His Gun, Daddy,” ridiculing how Dubya got Saddam’s pistol as a souvenir and “accomplished” what his father, George Bush Sr., couldn’t. The topics of Camp X-Ray (“Enemy Combatants”) and Bush’s 2004 return to the White House (“Re-Election,” natch) were also tackled.

The vocals of “JBUSH” were mostly a lot of hollering and Cookie Monster growling, but the frontman hammed it up during the gig, sticking his tongue out and wandering around the venue singing when he wasn’t on stage working his guitar. Between numbers, he brought the funny, dropping tons of jokes on the crowd in Dubya’s accent, encouraging them to chant “USA,” and introduced the members of the band (“I got two words to describe Nancy Pelosi: pussy communist”). Whenever the audience didn’t give him the reaction he wanted, JBUSH responded with, “What am I playing to, a bunch of terrorists?” or “Am I speaking to a god-damn fucking Mosul convention?” The robots themselves spewed some pre-programmed gags, with Cheney/GTRBOT666 screaming about how he wanted to “fucking shoot you in the face” or Saddam/AUTOMATOM calling JBUSH a “douchebag.”

JBUSH gets a taste of rock n’ roll.

The band also popped off with some apropos parody covers befitting the Bush presidency, such as a send-up of The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again” (satirizing Dubya’s infamous verbal boner about “Fool me, can’t get fooled again”), and reworking of the Christmas carol “Do You Hear What I Hear?” (used to spoof the rise in domestic surveillance since 9/11).

The raucous and ribald gig finished off in furious fashion with a Sublime-like reggae jam called “Dubya Dub” and a cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.,” but not before JBUSH made out with Condi Rice/ DRMBOT0110 (“My jungle fever just got cured”), and quipping to the crowd about Ron Paul supporters (“Are you the fuckers who’re putting all those signs on the overpasses?”) and his presidential predecessor (“You ever hear Bill Clinton play the saxophone? He sucks a dick”).

Finally, the fantasy is fulfilled

Random fact: JBOT had some whiskey and barbecue from the Rhythm Room’s Rack Shack before the show (“It’s a deadly combination”).

Personal bias: I have a CD full of Captured! By Robots MP3s at home.