The alternative title for this blog post is, of course, “Warped Tour Lineup 2008.”
3OH!3 whole tour
A Day to Remember jun 20 - jul 20
Against Me! whole tour
Aggrolites whole tour
Alesana whole tour
All That Remains jul 22 - aug 17
All Time Low jul 22 - aug 17
Anberlin jun 21 - aug 17
Angels and Airwaves whole tour
As I Lay Dying jun 20 - jul 18
August Burns Red jun 20 - july 6
… continue reading this entry.
I am thrilled to announce the return of the Satellite Ballroom’s most outstanding event of the year (after, of course, last week’s Slightly Stoopid show):
THE ROBOT WARES & RECORD FAIR!
For those of you with superior taste who have lived in Charlottesville for a couple years, you may remember this as THE shopping and music event of the holiday season. Last year I bought homemade manatee stationary while listening to Sarah White and drinking mimosas. Patrick Critzer sold curry, Thomas Dean sold silk-screened t-shirts, Junkyardoll sold vintage clothes, and a good time was had by all. I hope that everyone comes out to the Satellite Ballroom this year to support Charlottesville’s best vendors, craftspersons, and artists. I swear to blog that you will end up finding some kickass Christmas presents there.
The fair is on the afternoon of December 2nd. Let me know if you want to help organize or publicize the event, or if you need information on how to reserve your own table and make tons of cash money.
Poor Tanya Tucker. She has to sing to the Republican Party for her supper, and now she has to battle the fire that is menacing her stage costumes:
About 1,400 firefighters battled the Malibu fire that started Sunday morning and had spread more than 2,200 acres, destroying 25 structures — including five homes, a glass company and Malibu Presbyterian Church. Officials ordered the evacuation of several hundred homes — including those of James Cameron, director of the movie “Titanic,” and singers Olivia Newton-John and Tanya Tucker.
“All my stage clothing, boots, belts and wardrobe is in that house,” Tucker said. “I have so much memorabilia since I just moved from Nashville to Malibu.”
Why do I get the feeling that famous peoples’ homes are like museums to themselves? The only thing that relates in my life is my fridge, which is like a Wistar’s Half-Eaten Sandwich Hall of Fame.
[Had to remove video b/c it was screwing with my page layout but check it out on YouTube. . .]
This is Duane’s song “Crazy.” He is my friend who plays guitar and sings back-up vocals in Dark Horse and the Carousels. I love the song, but I think we should all send the band some money to reshoot the video so it isn’t set in a bedroom under purple lighting and no one is smoking or showing off his chest hair on camera. I could also get behind a boy meets girl sort of back story. Perhaps less graffiti. Shorter haircuts. Some tube tops. I feel like Martin Scorcese here.
You guys sound great though.
Duane, don’t kill me for posting this.
I drive to DC fairly often to visit friends, and when I’m there, left to my own devices, I take pleasure in listening to the worst radio stations in the world. I usually have fairly decent taste in music, but the second I get into the DC/Northern Virginia area I want to listen to Top 40 Billboard countdowns or DC 101. [Haha - the DC 101 homepage is currently featuring “Sum 41 Pool Party Pictures.”] I will be driving down Route 29, listening to something really cool on CD, and then the second I get on Route 66, I start hunting for the radio station playing Rihanna’s Umbrella song. I tell myself that I just want to be familiar with what the kids are listening to, so I’ll know the songs next time I get invited to a high school party, but really I just have a sick fascination with bad popular music. Like the new Fergie shitfest that is supposed to be so heartfelt. That is truly one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. And yet it goes so well with Northern Virginia’s endless chain restaurants and strip malls. If I tried to listen to the Pixies or Sonic Youth while driving through McLean, my stereo would probably explode.
Last night I went to DC to visit my friend Keith, whose birthday is tomorrow. Everyone say happy birthday to Keith! Keith is the best. He does not judge you for thinking tapioca pudding is a good late night drunk person food. He is also the ideal person to accompany you when you go the wrong way on the Beltway at 3 in the morning. This is because he knows all the words to every Meat Puppets and Shangri-Las song, and those CDs happened to be in my car. The Shangri-Las help me and Keith relive our teenage years - growing up in small mid-Western towns in the early 60s, drinking malt milkshakes, putting nickels in the jukebox. Keith likes to question why the rebellious leader of a motorcycle gang is hanging out in a candy store. I respond that when I say I’m in love, you better believe I’m in love L-U-V. He had never heard the PSAs at the end of Myrmidons of Melodrama, so that was a treat. Mary Weiss advises the young lady on a date not “to barge on ahead like a baby elephant.” In the early 60s, baby elephants were controversial figures, infamous for their wanton and whorish ways. They were thought to be perverted and sick little beasts capable of corrupting women from good middle class families. But then in the late 60s, Keith and I launched the baby elephant civil rights movement, redeeming baby elephants from their undeserved reputation. However now the public service announcement’s baby elephant simile doesn’t make as much sense. Just try to understand it in its historical context.
First draft
First person
Last chance