It’s tempting to pile on Lana Del Rey for her pre-album, SNL debut last night, rightly described, with some measure of glee, as a bomb. We’re all skeptical of the singer’s authenticity. Del Rey seems very polished, so much so that some doubt her basic entitlement to the status of singer or artist. I’m not a fan—I think her hyper-sexualized cutesy doe act is a little too close to pedophilic for comfort—and I said as much during our year-end awards. Until the day she releases a solid record, or at least more material than there is analysis of her existing three songs, I’m mostly disinterested. But it’s only fair that if I hate the hype when things are going Del Rey’s way, I should hate it just as much when somewhere she’s probably got her head buried under a pillow, wondering, miserably, if her career is over before it began.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Lana Del Rey

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The “tropical cruise ship vacation as rock festival” actually isn’t that new of a concept. It was popularized by jambands and aging boomer (e.g. Journey, REO Speedwagon) bands in the late ’90s on the not-unreasonable assumption that those two genres bred fans insane enough to want to see sixteen sets of their favorite act amidst daily activities like snorkeling, sunbathing, and gorging at the buffet. I went on a cruise with my parents when I was eighteen. Truth be told, I was bored out of my mind. But had there been twelve sets of Gov’t Mule spread out over four days on that cruise ship? Totally different story.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Weezer

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It’s no secret that American Idol has been on the decline. This, I think, doesn’t have much to do with the show itself as a production. It’s still a smartly made piece of pop culture genesis where Seacrest still constantly winks at the camera and every once and a while you hear a performance that knocks your socks off—just now with more likable judges (this shocks me to say but J Lo has about half the pretense of a Kara Dioguardi) and the only new built-in fault being Jimmy Iovine’s blessing of each contestant with his soulless advice, waiting for them to turn their backs so he can suck their life from them. But maybe Simon Cowell really does have the last laugh; he got out while the getting was still aight. The voting system, as it opens up its accessibility more and more to include things like texting and online voting, has now become the sole dominion of whatever demographic it is that likes the Jonas Brothers. Unless that’s college girls now. I’m old.

⊙ Keyword Tags: American Idol

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I think I can summarize just why I don’t give a shit about James Murphy’s retirement or hiatus or whatever in one acerbic nugget: if being a hipster is about how an affinity for the sub- or counter-cultural is reduced to the superficial act of buying the right clothes—even if you’re buying them from the wrong people—then being a fan of LCD Soundsystem is about how an affinity for listening to historically important music is reduced to the superficial act of listening to LCD Soundsystem—even if you’re buying it from the same people who made “Drunk Girls” and “North American Scum.” Instead of listening to a range of music, to the contradictions and complexity of music as it was produced over time (which, when you think about it, is sort of the point of informed music listening), all you need to do is listen to LCD Soundsystem and be assured that James Murphy has listened to the right bands for you, done the hard work of selection, and that he will, with apparent authenticity, replicate them.

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I don’t go to nearly as many rock shows as I used to. Job responsibilities, marriage, and general laziness associated with old age have resulted in my being far more selective. Yes, it’s true: I’m old.

One of the things I have always placed a high value on in live performance is spontaneity. I love it when bands alter their setlist on a nightly basis, banter with the audience, and generally use the stage to greatly expand on their studio creations.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Echo And The Bunnymen, Pixies, Queens Of The Stone Age, Rem

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I seen it. Dudes got dumb all over the stage, like yelling at Jimmy Fallon and shit; we had fun. But such hype carries with it an air of well-fed sycophancy. There is, to be sure, nothing dangerous or even offensive about Odd Future; the continued suggestion that their music is somehow a “challenging” or “amoral” listen undercuts actually challenging music, not to mention actual amorality. You know what’s challenging? Noah23 is fucking challenging. But anyway. I can’t stand in the way of a good myth. Nor can I do much to ease the tide of hyperbole, or the faux-handwringing of a nattering, faintly hip-hop-literate media intrigue diligently discussing @tylerhashtag’s latest rape gag, mostly so they themselves have an excuse to re-make said rape gag (here’s one: “Your mom’s a bitch so I ripped her fucking tonsils out / Ski-mask and switchblade, waiting until prom gets out.” I just made that up!), or so they can say the word “swag” again. Because that’s funny, see: they wouldn’t normally get to say “swag.” Just as Lil’ B recycles Gucci’s (and so Wayne’s) eccentricity without bothering to ground it in any notion of aesthetic merit, so too does Odd Future recast the wild menace of the Wu-Tang Clan as an affectation to be worn for laffs, forgetting so far to produce any good rap music to accompany it. But I may just be old-fashioned. Who knows.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Odd Future, Tyler The Creator

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First, I do understand that Guster doesn’t write their own press packets. However, I personally would make it a priority never to allow anyone to refer to my band as “feel-good rockers.” Conservatively speaking, I would probably decapitate up to and including three different journalists and/or press agents who used that term to describe my cohort, just to set an example that, you know, it’s not okay. I might even say (or scream) something like, “who’s feeling good now?” while my machete arched downward toward their waiting neck. But that’s me. It’s one of my things. I’m sure not everyone feels that strongly about it.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Guster, Guster's Publicity Guy

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Dear All Concert Photographers,

Hi! My name is Clayton Purdom, a Chicago-based writer and semi-regular attendee of live musical performances. I see and interact with a lot of your kind, and had a couple of observations I wanted to share with you, quickly, that may help you go about your job:

1) Assume that everyone hates you. This is because they do. You know how in a crowd there’s that guy that shoves his way in front of you and then stops, and everyone that has been standing there hates that person for ruining their viewing experience? That is you, all the time! I know that you sort of sneak around, leading the way with your telephoto lens and trying to be inauspicious, but in the end you are just a person who has fucked up my situation. I know that that spot gives you a nice sight-line, and I know that because it used to be my sight-line. Now I’m looking at some bro’s neckhair. This is why everyone hates you. However:

⊙ Keyword Tags: Concert Photographers, Snarking Lot

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Sarah McLachlan has a new record out. It’s her first in seven years, and directly addresses the dissolution of her marriage to her bass player. It was recorded live to the floor. Though I’ve always thought her 1994 single “Possession” was a bit of a jam, I would not consider myself a fan and generally identify her music as the go-to soundtrack for the animal cruelty PSAs that constantly run on New York City cable stations. I am privy to all of the above information for one reason alone: I flew on JetBlue last week.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Inxs, Sarah Mclachlan

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First off, I won’t deny that I’m a huge fan. I can’t think of a better three-album run than Surfer Rosa (1988) —> Doolittle (1989) —> Bossanova (1990) in the history of indie rock, and I still listen to each of those on a surprisingly regular basis considering the most recent is (gasp) 21 years old. You guys rule. Seriously.

⊙ Keyword Tags: Pixies

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