The “Supergroup” of Dave Grohl(Foo Fighters, Nirvana), Josh Homme(Queens Of The Stone Age, Kyuss), and John Paul Jones(Led “Fuckin’ Zeppelin) will finally release their self titled debut, “Them Crooked Vultures” on November 17th.  I had previously raved about their performance at the House Of Blues in an earlier blog and am nerding out about this upcoming release.  You can hear the first single, “New Fang” below.  While the members themselves are reluctant to embrace the term “Supergroup”, to me they are just that.  All are current and former members of bands I love.  When I heard they were working together I peed a little.  All three innovators in their fields working together to, not regurgitate the past, but to create something new and challenging.  At the same time, I wouldn’t mind hearing this combo do a version of “The Rover” from Physical Graffiti.

Here’s some fan shot footage of Nine Inch Nails at Webster Hall in New York. As part of their Wave Goodbye Tour they played “The Downward Spiral” in it’s entirety at select shows. Trent Reznor allowed fans to video the show. This is some pretty cool footage. I am going to miss these guys.

This is the greatest thing since Tucker invented Anti-Matter Injectors.

Here is a excerpt from my conversation with Art Alexakis from Everclear, who are playing at Showcase Live at Patriot Place in Foxborough(10/21/09).  Everclear had some huge hits in the 90’s and despite line-up changes continue to tour and release albums.  Their latest, “In A Different Light” is a compilation of some old favorites done with the new band in a different style.  The feel is more acoustic and intimate.  There are also two new songs to get fans ready for a new release in 2010.  This is the first part which is mostly about the band and the music.  We also talked about his passion for politics and community service which will be covered in part two.  I started by asking Art if they re-recorded the old stuff in this style because: 1. They were not satisfied with the original recordings, 2. For their fans who are getting older and mellower, 3. He’s going deaf.

Art Alexakis from Everclear

My Father said it. I’m sure your Father said it too.  It’s been said by parents and old curmudgeons for Centuries.  “This isn’t music” or ”Are you really going out dressed like that?”  Now, like my father before me I have entered the grumpy old man phase.  I knew I was there when I brought my nieces and their friends to the Brokencyde show at the Palladium in Worcester.  Also on the bill, Kill Paradise, The Ready Set, Blood On The Dance Floor, and Watch Out There’s Ghosts.  Yeah, I’ve never heard of them either.  But I’m glad I know now so I can avoid them in the future.  It was all suburban boys with Jonas Brothers haircuts rap/singing/screaming over beats lifted from Jay-Z’s Blueprint albums.  The Dance Dance Revolution light show didn’t help.  My nieces were psyched beyond belief.  Squealing all the way there in the car and asking if they could crowd surf, then asking if I knew what crowd surfing was.  I wanted to whip out the old, “I was crowd surfing when your were not even an idea in your father’s loins because he was tripping balls at a Dead show.”  But I refrained from sounding even older than I am.  My second chance to sound like a mall walker came when we exited the car and these girls of 13-14 were wearing nothing but wife beaters and bras in 40 degree weather.  I caught myself from blurting out, “Where are your coats, it’s freezing and you’re going to get sick” My mother would have been proud. It was my last attempt at being the cool uncle, because when I entered the venue and one of these MySpace pseudo hip-hop mall shopper bands was on stage barely playing what instruments they had I finally broke with a, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”  Which brought the ire of my nieces and all the teenyboppers surrounding me.  It was a parade of all the worst parts of 80’s and 90’s fashion, Mullets, fanny packs, ironic Members Only Style jackets and first attempt mustaches.  Mixed with a current hip-hop style that was purchased at the local mall.  Lots of big fat baseball hats with busy faux Louis Viton patterns worn tilted to the side.  I felt like I was at a Junior High dance.  All of a sudden I was the creepy old guy.  My brother in-law and I crept up to the empty bar area and ordered what were probably the only two beers poured that night.  Some other parents were there, huddled into a corner at the back of the room with the same look of horror and confusion that we had.  It looked like a distorted Logan’s Run with the youth dancing and screaming the elderly into a corner before they were pounced on and cannibalized.  All with the music from some I-Carly show blaring in the background.

Am I getting old?  I mean, I know I’m getting old physically, but am I mentally entering that “it was all better back in the day” mode?  I used to hate it when people complained about the music being better and the drugs being stronger in the 70’s.  It’s a sign of losing the youthful spirit.  I’m not about to go out and get a white belt and fingerless gloves.  I’m not looking to connect with the youth of America.  I had a mullet and wore some pretty embarrassing stuff when I was 14.  I know when my daughter becomes a teenager it will be a constant battle( it already is and she’s only 5)  I just don’t want to be the guy to piss on kids being kids.  It took everything I had to not stand up on the bar in that room and scream, “Get off your fucking phones and wake up!  These bands suck!  You look like sheep in clown costumes and stop dressing like coked out club sluts from some reality show!”   Where the hell is Lemmy when you need him.   Thank the Maker for Beer.  The only positive thing was no line at the bar.

I found this hilarious video on Youtube as I was watching footage of the 2004 comeback for the Sox in the ALCS against the Yankees.  Yes the same Yankees who just clinched by sweeping the heroic Twins.  Son of a bitch.  Rumors of Jason Bay going to San Francisco almost sent me into a dreaded potato chip rage.  The burning pain of the shredded roof of my mouth made me realize the season is really over.  Now I have to watch A-Rod and his merry band of tool bags steam- roll the Angels and then the Phils in the World Series.

The Super Group.  It can be an amazing display of musical alchemy(Chickenfoot, Audioslave) or it can royally suck(Asia, Bad English)  In the case of Them Crooked Vultures it’s the former.  Sunday night(10/11/09)at The House Of Blues Josh Homme(Queens Of The Stone Age, Kyuss), Dave Grohl(Nirvana, Foo Fighters), John Paul Jones(Led Zeppelin) and Queens collaborator Alain Johannes invited us into there spastic spaceship and took everyone in the room on a trip that few may recover from.  The place was already primed by the hype of the musical fiber of each of it’s members.  I mean, LED Fuckin’ ZEPPELIN!  As soon as they walked on stage, the crowd went crazy with fanatical adulation.  Once the music started, it was clear that this was not a nostalgia trip or a pursuit of lucre.  It was four musicians enjoying the challenge of freaking each other out.  The music displayed the style of Messrs. Homme and Johannes’ band.  A schizophrenic, disjointed wall of sound that took many hairpin turns and mood swings.  At times it was like a hall of whirling knives, other times they brought it down to a spacey textural jam highlighted by Homme and Johnnes’ guitar wizardry. 

I love watching Dave Grohl play drums.  I’ve seen the Foo’s a few times and they always deliver with Grohl leading the way with his unabashed rock star antics.  He can pull it off because of his fervent love of what he does.  He injects his enthusiasm into the room and makes it feel like we are all sharing the “Luckiest Guy In The World” vibe.  But when Grohl is behind the drum kit he explodes like a manic octopus.  Mistress Carrie pointed out his resemblance to Animal from the Muppet Band.  All arms and hair flailing with the ever present giant smile.  His epic hammering brought many smiles to his band mates.  That’s what it’s all about:  Joy.  Loving the moment playing with people who push you to new standards. 

A musician of John Paul Jones’ calliber could easily get any gig he wants and go back to his pre-Zeppelin days as a studio mercenary.  Of all the surviving members of Led Zeppelin he has cashed in the least.  Rarely does he re-visit his old bands material, save for the reunion or two.  Last night he was obviously having a blast.  You could see in his face the expression of pleasure of creating something totally different from anything he has done before.  At times the Zeppelin groove worked it’s way into some of the set.  How could it not?  With one of the creators and three guys schooled by his creation.  But it only lasted for a verse or two then quickly changed direction.  There was a Spinal Tap, “Lick My Love Pump” moment when Jones ended a song with a weeping piano coda.  But that was the only instance of cliche.

They played all original material from a supposedly forthcoming album with Homme giving the titles in between.   I think it would be cool if they didn’t release an album and just played shows sporadically.  Keep it mysterious, like a 70’s style super group.  Not wearing out the novelty and excitement of the collaboration.  TCV also win the award for coolest display of weird guitars.  It was a parade of vintage oddities and in Jones’ case strange electric mandolins and a guitar(?) that looked like a piece of alien weaponry from ”Men In Black” complete with multicolored read- out screen on the body.  Very little is known of the future plans of this project.  With 4 talented multi-instrumentalists the possibilities are endless.  Also, with all of their respective bands and projects I would imagine it was next to impossible to make time for it.  I’m glad they did and I hope to hear and see more.

I have attended this event the past two years and it is a great time.  I’m a big fan of chili and the firefighters usually cook up a great batch.  I was fortunate enough to be a judge one year and had a great time(despite paying the price the next morning. Just don’t overdo it)  It’s also a great place to bring the kids on a Saturday afternoon.  It benefits the Providence Canteen which started out as a support service for Firefighters but has now expanded to help victims too.  It’s run on donations so please come out and have some chili and take in the classic cars.  I’ll see you there.

The 3rd Annual Firefighter Chili Cook Off And Car Show

Saturday, Oct. 10th, 12pm-4pm

The Hay-Wagon Restaurant

504 West Hartford Ave, Uxbridge, MA

More info HERE.

A Muslim Woman in Malaysia has recently been sentenced to have six strokes from a cane because she…DRANK A BEER!!  Apparently Islamic law says you can’t drink a beverage that was first brewed in ancient Southern Iraq and Western Iran.  Is it really worth a beating?  I know some people who drink so much beer they get obnoxious and start spouting off about crap they know nothing about.  Rude assholes who, with the help of a good lager will volunteer their time to counsel you on something they have no business even mentioning.  That’s how my “friends” describe me after a few pints anyway.  I know Islam is about Love and Peace(except for those few assholes who try to blow up a market trying to force the Love and Peace on others.  Actually, their acting like a bunch of drunk asshole know-it-alls.  Is that Irony?) But what if you LOVE beer, and it brings you PEACE when enjoying it?  Maybe I’m so corrupted by Western Capitalist Culture that my soul can’t comprehend the inherent evil in a glass of smooth and creamy stout.  Sure, if you drink enough you have the potential of becoming an evil prick, but it’s better than stoning someone for not wearing a veil or trying to go to school.  Now that’s uber-prickish in my opinion. 

One of my first thoughts after reading about this was, “I hope it was worth it.”  They don’t state what kind of beer it was.  I hope it was god enough to mentally ease any pain by just remmembering the experience.  I started thinking, what if I was a beer lover who lived in a society that considered drinking it a crime?  What beer would I be willing to risk a beating for?  Is it worth the pain and societal ostracism?  A few came to mind:

The Dogfish Head Forte.  A lovely brew with raspberry puree.  Their 120 Minute IPA is also worth a  beating.  Both are mysterious, enchanting, and delicious.  Everything a Fundamentalist Muslim court is afraid of.

Harpoon’s Imperial I.P.A is part of their Leviathan series.  It’s amazing blast of hop flavor is sure to make you miss a prayer session.

The Schneider-Weisse Aventinus is a beautiful wheat doppelbock that has a body no burka could conceal.

After toiling in a Malaysian rubber tree Field for 8 hours just miles above the equator, you probably develop a thirst as hellacious as The Battle Of Badr.  Nothing in this world rewards hard sweaty work like an ice cold tall-boy of Narraganset Lager.  It hits the parched pallet like a chilly angel of mercy.  It almost makes you bow to Cranston.

What brews are worth a caning to you? Let me know in the comments section below.  Until then, don’t get caught.

I was 20 when I got my first tattoo. I had wanted one since I was 15. I thought, “If I wanted to be ROCK, I had to get ink.” My mother told me if I ever came home with a motorcycle or a tattoo, don’t even bother coming in the house. I think that made it even cooler. I finally made my way down to Buddy’s in Newport and got a dragon spinning a record on my back, done by Buddy himself. He was a big fat geezer with a faded battleship on his chest that was partially obscured by white hair. He also had what looked like a mermaid or a can of soup on his arm. It was so faded I couldn’t tell. He wore a skipper hat and had a voice only filter- less cigarettes could create. When I sat in the chair he held the needle over my back and said, “Are we sure we want this?” Not wanting to sound as scared as i really was, I shot out a “Hell Yeah” and he immediately bore down. Whoever tells you getting a tattoo doesn’t hurt is a liar. After about an hour Buddy finished and held a mirror up so I could see it. It was a bloody mess. He told me to keep my crummy finger nails off of it and sleep on my stomach. It felt like someone held an iron against my back, but after a few days it mellowed out. I was officially ROCK. My friends laughed, my Mother cried, my girlfriend all of a sudden was willing to do things I had begged her to do in bed. I later realized it wasn’t about being ROCK, it was about expressing love, hate, remorse, joy, and anything else you thought was worthy of the experience. I now have 10 on various parts of my body. My most recent is a Japanese style wave with the Chinese character for Father in the center on the inside of my bicep. I got that for my late Father who’s ashes I scattered off the coast of Falmouth. I have a Carp on my left calf that I got a week after I got married. The Carp is a symbol of strength and perseverance which are two of the many things you need to keep a marriage going. I have a classic Coop style Devil Head on my right forearm I got as a reaction to one of my best friends giving his life to Jesus Christ. I have a skull with a candle sticking through it’s temples burning at both ends with the words, “It’s Gonna Be The Death Of Me” above it. That is a reminder to never do Cocaine again. I mean c’mon..I’m have a degree in English and I have “Gonna” tattooed on my shoulder. Damn you Cocaine! All my tattoos are notes from certain times in my life. Reminders of great times and bad patches. Everyone gets them for different reasons. It seems like in the 90’s, they became trendy and everyone was getting the barbed-wire around the arm or the jagged tribal mess.(I’ve got one of those too) One of the best tattoos I’ve ever seen was on a haggard redneck dude who was in the chair before me in a Richmond, VA shop. It was a Mickey Mouse standing by a lovely stream with flowers. Mickey had a huge penis protruding from his pants and was peeing in the stream. I had to ask why and the bleary eyed gentleman replied, “Even Mickey Mouse can be an asshole.” True words of wisdom. I bet he works for Disney’s executive branch now.

Some are addicted to the experience. Enduring the pain and having something to show for it. Having a needle move in and out of your skin at a thousand miles an hour will make you a little less inhibited in your conversation too. You find yourself saying things to the artist you still haven’t told your family. Or you pass out. Either way it’s a full experience and a way for some people to express themselves.

This weekend(10/2-4) The 8th Annual Boston Tattoo Convention hits the Boston Center For The Arts. Over 100 artists from around the country will be displaying their work for you to consider having on your body for life. If you are thinking about getting some work this is the best place to do research. I spoke with the Convention’s founder and producer, Natan Alexander from Witch City Ink about how it started, what you should look for in an artist, and why you should check with your Girlfriend before you get her name tattooed on your arm forever. Reason for starting the Boston Tattoo Convention:

• Natan Alexander talks about starting the Boston Tattoo Convention

  listen

• Why you should never take a phone call from your girlfriend while getting a tattoo

  listen

• Where, who, and what Natan won’t tattoo

  listen

• Why it’s a bad idea to get a tattoo while you’re drunk

  listen

• Things you should look for when checking out a tattoo shop

  listen

And remember, Keep your crumby fingernails off of it.