When egotistical rockstars cry

It's been widely known that Prince has been extremely careful about his image. From his fashion and his music videos and movies, to his staunch anti-YouTube stance and his days as an unpronounceable symbol, image is a serious concern for the 80s icon. But now, with his recent lawsuits against three of his fan sites, not only has he managed to alienate a majority of his fan base, but has proven that ego has consumed his brain, and that, in his mind, there's no difference between homage and infringement.

For those who aren't aware, this past week, Prince's lawyers have recently sent cease-and-desist letters to several Prince fan sites, demanding that they remove all photos, artwork and fan-submitted, Prince-related pictures. Not even photos of fan tattoos or license plates are safe from the Prince's image conscious wrath. In response, three of these sites - housequake.com, prince.org and princefams.com - have united to create PrinceFansUnited.com in response to the lawsuits. They claim that Prince and his legal team are trying "to stifle all critical commentary about Prince," and if they have to continue to have their images removed from the site, that they will "defend their position in the proper court of law, as well as fully prosecute any claims to which they are justly entitled."

In response to the PFU, Prince's promoter AEG released a statement saying "Prince is not suing his fans, is not looking to penalize fans and nor is he looking to or inhibiting freedom of speech in any way. In fact, he is simply looking to provide Prince fans with exclusive music and images entirely free of charge, and bypassing unofficial and unauthorized phony fan sites that exploit both consumers and artists." Oh really? Last time I checked, fan sites are used to pay tribute to artists, not to exploit their fans. I don't see any fan sites forcing people to pay for access to their site, or trying to take advantage of their visitors in any way. And how can this be seen as screwing over the fans when labels continue to charge $18 or more for new CDs only to release "deluxe editions" mere months later, as well as charging $50 minimum per ticket to see an artist such as Prince in person? I'd also like for the Prince camp to tell us the difference between a real fan site and a phony" one. In my mind, anyone who has the time available to set up and maintain a website, and is willing to fork over the money to pay for a domain name each month, is a true fan of an artist; otherwise they wouldn't waste their time. The statement goes on to say that "The action taken earlier this week was not to shut down fan sites, or control comment in any way. The issue was simply to do with in regards to copyright and trademark of images and only images, and no lawsuits have been filed." If you're not trying to control comment in any way, then why are you forcing these sites to take down all images, including tattoos and license plates? Unless Prince owns the rights to all of these tattoos and license plates, then he has no right to tell these sites to shut them down.

Also, AEG claims that "the three sites in question have falsely positioned themselves as representatives of millions of Prince fans. In fact, many have come out in support of Prince at his official site and even on the message boards of the unofficial sites in question." Now I'm not a PR expert, but I don't think insulting the intelligence of the Prince community is the way to go to appease your fan base. After all, I'm sure Prince fans have their own minds and can think for themselves, and can grasp the fact that any review of a Prince album is that of the writer of the review, and not the entire fan community. In other words, I highly doubt fans take any reviews or content that's posted on these sites as fact, unless it's news from Prince's camp. And I'd also like to meet the people who are supporting Prince right now. These have to be the twenty-something uber-Prince fans out there, who blindly agree with everything their idol says and sleep with their original vinyl copy of "Sign 'O' the Times" under their arms.

But apparently frivolous lawsuits aren't enough for Prince, as he's even unleashed a diss track at Princefansunited.com entitled PFUnk. In it, Prince sings "The only reason you say my name is to get your fifteen seconds of fame, nobody's even sure what you do" (um, I'm pretty sure we know why these sites exist; they wanted to pay tribute to your music), "I love all y'all, don't you ever mess with me no more" (um, I don't think they were, Prince) and that he wants digital music to "disappear" (I think there's a better chance of Britney Spears being secluded in her mansion, never to step out of the real world, then for this to happen). So what do fans have to say about this seven minute guitar jam? According to one poster, "It really is head and shoulders above anything on [Planet Earth] or 3121," while another thought they discovered an unearthed B-side from 1987, if not for the topical lyrics. So much for fighting fire with fire.

Still, it's not exactly clear why Prince has such a beef with these websites, as well as why he wants all Pricne-related images to be removed from them. But the PFU claims that the reasons is because these sites operate message boards whose posters are sometimes critical of the star of the star and his last album, Planet Earth. If this is the case, then instead of trying to alienate the very people who buy his music, or brainwashing them into thinking everything he touches is gold, the only thing Prince can do to fight criticism is to devote himself to making music that is worthy of standing on the same pedestal as Purple Rain and 1999. But even then, no matter how critically or fan-acclaimed an album is, it will always have detractors, so it's hard for any album to be critic-proof and universally admired. But if he spent as much time making new, innovative music as he does insulting his fans and suing websites created by the very people who cherish him, he may be closer to getting there.

— Jason Shoff

Only a pawn in their game

For fans of the compact disc, like me, these truly are dark times. CD sales continue to plummet, indie record stores and regional chains like Tower Records, a long gone heaven for us music geeks (where else could I get such imports as Babyshambles' Down in Albion and the 2 disc Deluxe Edition of Pulp's Different Class), shutter their doors, and sites like PirateBay and Demonoid tempt us like internet serpents, spoiling any hopes of the pleasure of waiting for a new album to hit shelves (especially for me; every time an anticipated new album leaks early, I cave faster than you can say "oink"). Now to add salt to the wound, big box chains like Wal-Mart and Best Buy are in the process of slowly wiping albums off of their floor space in favor of more profitable merchandise like video games and DVDs.

Whether we like it or not, these stores make up for at least 65% of music sales (including online and physical recordings), up from 20% a decade ago. These stores, more than any magazine, TV station, or website, help shape the music landscape, as their choices dictate which albums are widely available on store shelves across America. And now Wal-Mart and other chains have told labels to expect as much as twenty percent in cut-backs in shelving space over the next year. Which means that one will be much more likely to find the latest Britney Spears album Blackout in stock than the amazing Aretha Franklin rarities collection Rare & Unreleased Recordings from the Golden Reign of the Queen of Soul, released a week earlier (seriously, download her version of "Fool on the Hill" or "My Way" to hear some real pop music).

Now I don't blame these stores for reducing floor space in music. CD sales at big box chains have plummeted seventeen percent this year (more than the average fall of 14%), the worst sales week of the Soundscan era occurred this fall, and a holiday season that started off so promising with the Kanye/50 match-up has thus far been relatively anti-climatic. Meanwhile, the gaming industry continues to skyrocket, Apple continues to release such mouth-watering gadgets as the iPod Touch, and the movie industry is on the upswing with the advent of the Blu-ray and HD DVDs. So if they want to sell as many HD TVs and computers as possible, it makes sense for them to fill their floor space with products that will lure prospective buyers in, not with an entertainment medium that is in a perpetual free-fall.

But what saddens me is that, as much as I'd hate to admit it, these big box chains helped shaped what I listened to today. Meijer (the Midwest's version of Wal-Mart) is where I purchased my very first albums for my 10th birthday (all Beatles albums, coincidentally); in middle school, when I first started to expand my musical horizons, I would often stop at a Target to pick up an album by The Rolling Stones, Nirvana, and Everclear (yes, I was definitely a child of the 90s); and until I went to ASU, nearly all of my CDs were purchased at a big box chain, especially at Wal-Mart (since there is a huge Supercenter wear where I use to work). Now these same shelves and filled with the likes of Hannah Montana and High School Musical, and the fact that chains like Wal-Mart now refuse to carry albums that have a parental advisory sticker means that they'll never see any Rage Against the Machine albums amongst the hundreds of copies of Carnival Ride. On top of this, the music industry's faith in these chains, along with their general ineptness, forced many stores that catered to the business to close; yet these chains have now either left them for dead or have essentially held them hostage, threatening to cut back shelf space even more if they don't give them more exclusive content or lower prices even further.

To give you an idea of the sad state of music retail these days, I walked into a Wal-Mart a few weeks ago, the same one I frequented in high school, hoping to get a copy of Neil Young's Chrome Dreams II. "They have to have this album," I thought, "he's one of the most influential artists in music history." But I scanned over the new releases section, and it wasn't there. I scanned under the "Y" artists and then the entire music section, but still no dice. Finally I asked an employee if they had it in stock, and she couldn't find it. Then she looked at Wal-Mart's release schedule, and it wasn't even there. The new Bo Bice album was there; the new Seether album was there; of course Carrie Underwood's album was listed; even the new Robert Plant/Alison Krauss album was, surprisingly, there. But no Neil Young. Needless to say, I walked out of there with a bitter taste in my mouth.

However, there is a silver lining to be found in this dark, ominous cloud; I did end up finding it at Target.

— Jason Shoff

USB drives: Sticking it to the consumer

For those who are technically savvy, you may be familiar with USB drives. These stick-shaped flash drives allow people to store and transport anywhere from 64 megabytes to 8 gigabytes of content, which can then be downloaded or run on any computer by simply plugging it into any USB slot. Now record labels are using these drives as a way to appeal to the digital consumer in an era where downloading is all the rage.

This past June, the Bob Marley estate released a 30^th Anniversary edition of Marley’s timeless album Exodus on a USB stick, becoming the first major label catalogue artist to do so. The album, which featured all three tracks on the album as well as three live videos from Marley’s 1977 performance at London’s Rainbow Theater, was only available to those who joined the Bob Marley Passport Fan Club at the cost of $45 a year, and only 4,000 of them were produced. And now Matchbox Twenty has jumped on the USB bandwagon by releasing their latest album, Exile on Mainstream, as a USB bracelet that’s exclusively available at Best Buy. The bracelet, includes all 17 songs from the album (released Oct. 2), music video How Far We've Come, another video with band interviews, a digital booklet with album art and other band items to customize your computer. Apparently Matchbox Twenty's management got the idea from none other than country legend Willie Nelson, who allows concertgoers to buy a USB bracelet that contains a downloaded version of that night's concert. (Some are available online at stores.allaccesstoday.com/willie.), and the band will be selling similar bracelets during its upcoming 2008 tour.

Now I like the idea of using USB bracelets as a way to give fans a high-quality recording of that night’s concert almost instantly, which really is the ultimate souvenir. It really is a win-win situation for both band and artist, since not only does it allow fans to relive their favorite moments from the show as much as they want, but it essentially thwarts bootleggers from selling or seeding inferior recordings of shows to die-hard completists who will purchase/download everything out there from an artist, regardless of quality. But if labels decide to use USB drives as a way to release or reissue albums, then it would join the mini disc, SACD, DualDisc and DVD Audio as a failure from an industry that’s looking for any possible way to recoup lost profits.

Essentially, record buyers (especially the causal fan) will only upgrade their collection and re-purchase albums if it is absolutely necessary. Unless it brings something revolutionary to the table, then no format will ever become as popular as the CD or the MP3 are today. This was the case when the compact disc made its debut in 1982 and proceeded to supplant the LP to become the standard medium for audio playback. For one, it was much more portable than bulky, cumbersome vinyl records; twice as much music could fit on a CD as opposed to a standard LP; you no longer had to get up in the middle of an album and flip it over to the next side, which was the case with both vinyl and cassettes; and most importantly, it was the first audio device that used digital audio instead of analogue, thus creating a high-fidelity sound quality that is far superior to that of traditional vinyl records. In essence, converting from vinyl records to CDs was pretty much a no-brainer.

But no record industry format since the CD has felt nearly as essential to the average consumer. How many people felt the urge to buy a smaller version of a format that was already portable and easy to handle to begin with? How many people have been willing to invest in $400-900 SACD/DVD-Audio systems to listen to a format that has slightly higher quality than a CD, but can’t be played in a car or ripped onto a computer? And how many people bought DualDisc reissues or versions that not only offered little in terms of extra content at a higher price (a few videos, DVD-Audio versions of the album, photos, lyrics, etc.), but easily scratches, jams in some audio systems, has no clear label to tell which side is the CD and which is the DVD, and isn’t even compatible on some CD players (since the thinner CD layer makes reading the CD side of a DualDisc harder than reading a conventional CD)? This is why none of these have replaced the CD in popularity, and why none of them will even come close to the MP3, which not only has the same sound quality, if not better, than a regular CD, but allows people to download and listen to music with the click of a button in minutes. And talk about being portable: the size of MP3 files allows people to download thousands of them on a single audio/mp3 player, and they can also burn them onto CDs to make their own mixes.

The USB drive does allow people easily play and download an album onto any computer, and the amount of space in a drive does allow a label to add quite a bit of extra content. But does the $35 price tag warrant purchasing a USB album for a few videos and a digital booklet? And with how paranoid the industry is in regards of piracy, can people download these files and then use them to burn them onto a disc, or will they be copy-protected? On top of that, there’s no way for someone to listen to this on a CD player, or in the car or on the go like one can with mp3 players. So while this would make for a great concert souvenir, as a format to release albums, it would crash land before it even gets off the ground.

--Jason Shoff

Rap: Fighing for its right to entry

Last week, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame unveiled what may be the worst list of nominees in its history for the class of 2008. Madonna, the Beastie Boys, John Mellencamp, Donna Summer, Leonard Cohen, Chic, The Ventures and the Dave Clark Five highlight a decidedly non-rock list of artists that has some critics reaching a boiling point. " This year's ballot shows that the Hall has skipped over the seminal 1970s for the worthless '80s," says Roger Friedman of Fox News. "The committee has chosen dance music over rock. They've all but ignored the pioneers who influenced the genre in favor of non sequiturs." And Fred Mills of Harp Magazine agrees, saying that " with today's announcement of nominees for the 2008 induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame it becomes clear we've reached a tipping point from which a permanent downhill slide in quality seems all but inevitable."

Even though I will agree that this year's list is not up-to-snuff and has some glaring omissions (The Stooges, Tom Waits, The Cure, Metallica, etc.), what surprises me is how many of these critics feel that rap artists are not worthy of being inducted into the Hall. "The Beastie Boys... Well, rap is a bit closer to rock than disco," says Bob Lefsetz, "but who's a bigger innovator... The Beasties or Alice Cooper?" And Friedman agrees with the genres worthiness. "Afrika Bambaataa and the Beastie Boys: Are they kidding? Even the latter must be laughing. They had one big hit, 'You've Got to Fight for Your Right to Party.' The former, while I'm sure quite lovely, is a record-scratcher with a great name. Each of these belongs in a Rap Hall of Fame."

What these critics seem to fail to understand, however, is that without black music, there would be no rock and roll, period. It's a genre that blossomed from the R&B, blues, and boogie woogie music of the '30s and '40s, and all rap is is a continuation of the same black music tradition that fathered rock and roll in the first place.

None of these critics had any qualms when blues artists were being inducted into the hall. After all, without the likes of Robert Johnson, B.B. King, Muddy Waters and others, there would be no Rolling Stones, no Hendrix, no Clapton, and no Led Zeppelin, all of which took the blues and added rock and roll's rebellious nature and guitar pyrotechnics to make it palpable to a white audience.

These same critics also have no problems with Motown artists being inducted, artists who took black R&B and made it more commercially viable to a wider audience by bringing pop melodies, hooks and carefully crated arrangements to the forefront, thus creating one of the most successful labels in music history. Nor do they have any problems with soul artists, who took gospel music and made it secular and commercial by adding some grit, some horns, some funk, and some Hokum blues-style lyrics.

James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, was a no-brainer first balloter, a man who single-handedly created funk and fathered hip-hop by creating such classic, bare-bones grooves as "Say it Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)," "Sex Machine," and "The Payback." Brown is such an influence on hip hop that rappers and MCs are still mining his massive cannon of grooves to this day. Not only that, but there were no controversies when other funk pioneers, from Sly and the Family Stone to Parliament/Funkadelic, were inducted, despite relying on grooves, bass, and scratch guitar as much, if not more, than rap and hip hop.

Yet as soon as rap artists are eligible for induction, it seems like it's the sign of the apocalypse for most critics (it took Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five three tries to get in, and that was not without some controversy). Maybe it's because, while other black styles of music were direct influences to rock artists or adapted to the confines of the rock and roll landscape of the 60s and 70s, rap music has not only crossed over into the white audience, but it is single-handedly wiping rock music off of the radar in terms of popularity, and that may have some rock critics running scared. But without rock music, there would be no hip-hop, period. In fact, the music of many Hall inductees, from James Brown and Michael Jackson to Stevie Wonder and Funkadelic, has been used as samples for some of hip hop's biggest hits, and without these grooves (especially when it comes to James Brown and P-Funk), there would be no rap. The Beastie Boys, one of the eligible inductees of the 08 class, are a perfect example of a rap group who owe its debts to rock music. Its breakthrough album, Licensed to Ill, used several Zeppelin samples as the basis for their jams, and its biggest hit, "(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party)," is driven by heavily-distorted electric guitar and a solo from Kerry King of Slayer. And their most critically acclaimed album, Paul's Boutique, samples everyone from James Brown, The Eagles, Sly & the Family Stone and Johnny Cash to Pink Floyd, Elvis Costello, ZZ Top and The Beatles. And one of rap's first pioneers, Run-D.M.C., even recognized the similarities of rock and rap with its cover of "Walk This Way," which both crossed rap over to the mainstream and took Aerosmith's career of life support. Even today, Kanye West is recording with some of rock's biggest names (John Mayer and Chris Martin of Coldplay), and Jay-Z is an advocate of quite a few bands, even jamming onstage with Phish at one of their last concerts in NYC, and has sampled his fair share of rock artists, from The Doors and Kraftwerk to Talking Heads and Jimi Hendrix.

Rap music has also left a permanent mark on rock music that cannot be erased. Some of the earliest alternative rock groups, such as Red Hot Chili Peppers, Fishbone and Faith No More, took the rhymes of hip hop and added punk rock's aggression and the grooves of funk to create a revolutionary sound. Rage Against the Machine took the political agro-rap of NWA and Public Enemy and added a Zeppelin-esque guitar firepower to create one of the biggest rock groups of the 90s, which spawned other immensely popular (though critically disdained) rock groups like Limp Bizkit and Korn. Pop megastars Madonna, Rod Stewart and Michael Jackson have also added rap and hip hop elements to their music, and The Beatles have gotten into the sampling act by creating the mash-up album Love for its Cirque de Soleil show. Even Elton John has stated that he wants to make a hip hop-flavored record sometime in the near future.

In the end, though, the one thing that makes a concept like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame so tricky is that music is subjective, and is solely based on people's opinions as to what they think great music (or "rock music") is. It's not like sports where you can look at stats to of determine who should definitely be enshrined, although one could look at the number of albums that an artist has sold or the amount #1 singles that they've achieved, but that would leave you with a hall filled with Backstreet Boys' and Vanilla Ice's. And "rock and roll" itself is a loose term, with the earliest definition being black music that has crossed over into the mainstream (which, going by that definition, would legitimize any rap artist's entry to the hall), white music that has crossed over into the R&B charts, and music that's made for teenagers (which would legitimize Madonna's entry as well, even though she isn't exactly rock. I mean, what teenage girl in the 80s wasn't wearing spandex, Capri pants and beads and crosses like their idol?). So without a concrete definition, it makes it even harder to determine which artists should be categorized as "rock" artists, and thus should be enshrined into it's Hall. Which essentially means that one is left to look at influence of an artist's music on popular culture, and since one man's trash is another's treasure, there are few acts that everyone can universally agree are influential to the history of music (with The Beatles being the closest, imo). But for me, rock and roll music is essentially popular music in any form, and since rap has not only influenced rock music and vice versa, but is currently the most popular form of music out there today (and has been for decades), its artists should not have to justify its place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and Grandmaster Flash, the Beastie Boys and other future Hall of Famers should be welcomed with open arms.

— Jason Shoff

Neglecting Arizona

While I was reading the “Fall Road Warriors” article in the current issue of Rolling Stone, a few of the upcoming tours that were mentioned had me salivating. Neil Young, one of my favorite artists, will be supporting his new record, Chrome Dreams II, with an intimate theater tour this fall that will showcase both his loud and soft sides, while Bruce Springsteen will be touring with the E-Street Band for the first time since the Vote for Change tour of ’04 in support of his new album Magic. However, both these artists have one other thing in common besides their touring schedules: neither of them will be making a stop in the Valley of the Sun.

Despite being the 5th largest metropolitan area in the United States, artists ranging from Pearl Jam and Ryan Adams to Wilco, Maroon 5 and the White Stripes have been skipping past Phoenix on their latest tours. And not only that, but it’s almost become a trend for some of the country’s biggest bands to not only ignore the Valley, but the entire South altogether, as well. There are several theories out there as to why such big-name, money-making artists are ignoring the southern part of the country like the plague, and none of them seem to make a whole lot of sense.

One belief is that these mostly-liberal, progressive-minded musicians are skipping over normally red state areas because the majority of the Southern populous is made up of conservatives, but this would be really ignorant from the musicians’ standpoint, especially when it comes to Arizona. Not only have we elected a Democratic governor, but Arizona is currently the ONLY state to vote against a bill to ban gay marriage of any kind. Not only that, but the 5th district of Arizona voted for Democrat Harry Mitchell during the 2006 elections, which was a key seat in order for the Democrats to gain control of the House of Representatives. So for these artists to assume that we’re al Bush-loving war-mongers is pretty ludicrous on their part.

Another theory is that artists, especially rock bands, don’t make nearly as much money in southern states, and there aren’t many venues that can accommodate the audiences that they can draw. Well nowhere is this statement more false then here in the Phoenix area. There are plenty of great concert venues with varying seat capacities, from the Dodge Theater and Celebrity Theater in Phoenix and Gammage Auditorium and Marquee Theater in Tempe, to the Maricopa County Events Center in Sun City and the Mesa Amphitheater, all of which have varying capacities and, among them, can suit any artist that chooses to play in the Valley of the Sun.

Regardless of the reason, many Phoenix music fans are sick of being constantly snubbed by many of today’s biggest musicians, and their blue-state only tours and neglect for their Southern fans have many here in the Valley seeing red.

— Jason Shoff

Radiohead killed the industry mold

As many of you know, Radiohead will be releasing their brand new album, "In Rainbows," on October 10th in a revolutionary, label-bucking way. Not only is the band releasing it independently as a download mere days after it was completed (essentially killing any chance of the album leaking), but they are asking you to name the price. That’s right, you, the music listener, has the final say as to how much this should cost. And as of now, over 2 million people have named their price and are anxiously awaiting an album that is easily Radiohead’s most hyped record yet.

Radiohead manager Brice Edge has faith that people will pay for the album instead of simply downloading it for nothing. “We’re prepared to take a risk,” he explained. “If your music is great, people will then pay for it.” So in response to such a moral dilemma, how have people responded? What will people pay to hear a record they know they can get for free? Well according to British mag New Musical Express, many British people polled are essentially paying retail price for it, if not more.

“I paid £10 ($20.35) for it.,” says Chris Rogers. “They deserve it. I'm just glad they're back making music. It's hard to put a price on it.”

"What price do you put on happiness? For me, £7.99 ($16.26),” says Jason. “Now let's see how many cheapskates try and download it free.”

“I've pre-ordered the album for £7.50 ($15.26),” says Andrew of Canada. “That's the standard price of a CD here. It is because Radiohead made the album available for free that I have decided to pay. They have rejected the branding and commercialism standard in the music industry. Absolutely amazing, this band is.”

Some, like Mike Wakelam, had an interesting way of figuring out the price. “For a normal CD the dealer price is around £9. The record company gets 25 percent, leaving £6.75. I've heard artists get 18 percent of that, which is £1.215. So I'll pay £1.22 ($2.48).”

So across the pond, people are willing to pay for the album. But what about over here in America? I went to a popular music forum, Red Mosquito, to see how much people here are willing to pay for it. And the results would make Radiohead squirm.

“I just bought it: $0.” “This is the first album I've bought since 2003, even though I paid $0.00 :).” “I'll get the download for free hoping they come out with the full set in record stores for a decent price.” “There isn't a bitrate specified for the download so I won't be surprised if many people enter 0 as their purchase amount.” “Got a free DL coming on the 10th.” “I put $0 in because I'm broke as fuck.” “I feel way too guilty putting 0 into the pay box.” “I'm going to pay at least $5 i think.” “I paid $0 as well. I feel bad, but I can't afford much now.” “Ordered my download. Paid $2.44.” “I paid zero, but if they release a cd i'll buy it for sure.... also music is free anyway.” And my personal fav, “someone call Radiohead up and tell them that i'll pay more than $0.00 if they change the title.”

One person did comment on all of the 0s, however. “Of all the people to admitting paying $0, I can't believe that they can't afford $.50 or $1.” To which someone else said, “I'm sure I could but I don't believe in paying for downloads and I don't think Radiohead needs anymore money.”

So what does this all mean? Granted, I’m sure there are quite a few people in the UK who paid £0 for the album, and there were a few people in the forum who forked over the £40 ($81) deluxe version that includes the album, a bonus disc of songs, vinyl versions of both, and a bunch of other window dressing. But to me, it seems like people here really do take music for granted. Gone are the days when people would anxiously await for a record to come out, buy it that day (or even midnight, in some cases), rush home, unwrap the cellophane (which I admit is a pain in the ass), plop it into their CD player, and listen to it while gazing at the artwork. It’s an experience that I still cherish, which is one big reason why I rarely buy albums on iTunes or any other online music stores. Nowadays, people seem to think music should be as free as the air they breathe and the water we drink, and when asked why they shouldn’t pay for it, they offer up a range of excuses, from being too broke to saying that the artists already have enough money in their bank accounts. Now I applaud Radiohead for this move; the question of how much should one pay really does bring up a sort of moral dilemma, and this is the only effective way of preventing an album from leaking onto the internet early. But these guys are artists who have had albums at the top of the charts, who have a huge following of fans, and have people paying top dollar to see their shows. But what about new artists? Can they compete in this type of marketplace, can their music get out there and be heard by the masses this way (especially when major bands are releasing albums this way), and can they even afford to pull off something like this? And bigger still, is this the first nail in the coffin towards the death of the music industry? Only time will tell, although Radiohead’s management have said that the band will sign to a label and release the album traditionally. “The band think they [are] incredibly proud of this record and feel that it deserves to be brought into the mass marketplace. That's why we need a record company who have that infrastructure to deliver the CD,” says manager Chris Hutton. This may not be the funeral, but this is the closest we’ve come yet.

All I can say is that, as someone who wants to have a career making music one day, this has me shaking in my boots.
— Jason Shoff

An Unlikely Music Sanctuary

When one thinks of the library, a destination for the latest in music is not what normally comes to mind. For many, the library is a place to pull an all-night cram session before a big test, do some research for a mid-term paper, or just check out a good book. But unbeknownst to many, most libraries also have a plethora of new music and classic albums that are available to anyone, as long as you have a library card. And if it weren’t for the public library, I honestly would not be the music aficionado that I am today.

In my early years in high school, I listened to grunge and hard rock almost exclusively (with the exception of The Beatles, which were then a guilty pleasure of mine), and albums like In Utero, Vitalogy, Sixteen Stone, and (yes, I’ll admit it) My Own Prison were among my favs. In essence, if it wasn’t earth-shattering loud, I wasn’t worth my time. Then at around my junior year, I decided to explore the audio section at my high school’s library (which also serves as a branch of the Scottsdale Public Library), and it forever shaped the way I looked at music. You see, before I started to delve into their music selection, I thought that Jimi Hendrix was, while a good guitarist, very over-rated, based on the songs that I heard on the radio. Then I checked out Are You Experienced, and once I was exposed to such gems as “Third Stone from the Sun,” “The Wind Cries Mary,” and the title track, he became my favorite guitarist of all time. I also thought Bob Dylan was nothing more than a folkie who played overly-simple, bland acoustic songs, until I checked out “The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Live at the Royal Albert Hall” and discovered that not only could Dylan rock out, but that his music was just as earth-shattering (if not more so) than the music I was listening to, albeit in a totally different way. And before my junior year, I heard absolutely nothing from Neil Young’s catalogue, apart from a few songs on the radio, but after hearing “Rockin’ in the Free World,” I decided to check out his greatest hits set Decade; now he’s my favorite artist after the Beatles and Dylan. Basically, if it weren’t for the public library, I might be crossing my fingers that Creed jumps on the reunion bandwagon while listening to Alter Bridge’s debut album.

And to this day I still check out music from the library. In fact, a new library opened just down the street from my house, and during my last few visits I’ve checked out everything from college rock staples (The Queen is Dead, Surfer Rosa, Murmur), hip hop (The Marshall Mathers LP, Stankonia) and indie classics (In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Let it Be, Daydream Nation) to current indie rock (Wincing the Night Away, We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank, Z), stone cold classic albums (Electric Ladyland, Synchronicity, What’s Going On) and even some of my high school favs (Siamese Dream, Vs., MTV Unplugged in New York). And I did it without having to fork over $18 for an album, or at the risk of being sued by the RIAA. The only thing I needed was the library card.

So if you’ve been wanting to open your ears and discover some new music, I insist that you go to your local library and check out their music collection. Who knows; it may change your life.

— Jason Shoff

"Selling Out" Claims Are Out of Bounds

As a music fan, I'm heard the phrase "selling out" more times than I can count. For many music geeks, whenever their favorite underground/indie artist decides to sign to a major label, tops the Billboard 200 (as Modest Mouse's We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank did this year), lends their song to a car commercial or *gasps* releases an album at Starbucks (which Sonic Youth will be doing when their Hits Are for Squares comp is released later this year), it's essentially a sign of the apocalypse. In their minds, they are throwing their credibility out the window to join forces with the Dark Side. And I can never understand why.

Seriously, why must people hate and even loathe a band once they leave the underground and enter the mainstream? It's like they honestly think that, once a band hits the big time, they suddenly make music to fill their wallets, sell their souls to the corporate world and appeal to the masses, rather than for the art of music itself. But isn't the point of making music to make something that is relevant, appealing, and connects with people? And isn't that exactly what most "mainstream" bands have done? True, there are bands and artists out there who do make music just so people will buy their records and line their pockets (*cough* Fall Out Boy *cough*), but a great deal of bands out there are like Radiohead, Pearl Jam, The White Stripes, etc; they make the kind of music they want to make without compromising their musical integrity and vision, and it just so happens that their music connects with a lot of people and sells a lot of records as a result.

Last year I self-released an album with my band, Lifeless Riot, and one of these days (when time allows it), I'd love to start a promotional push and get my songs noticed by the music community. Will I try to get my music played on local radio stations and noticed by labels and A&R people in order for this to happen? Of course, because I want my music to be heard and have it connect to people, just like my favorite artists' music (like Neil Young, Pearl Jam, The Beatles) has connected with me. And in order to do that, bands have to get radio play, conduct interviews and appear on television shows in order to get exposure and get their music heard. It's a necessary evil. Now if a band continues to do the same old song and dance in order to guarantee that they will continue to sell records, or their intentionally experiment because they feel as if they have to by the press, then that's another matter. Otherwise most bands just want to make the kind of music that they want to make, and hopefully others out there will connect with it. I know I don't want to play dive-bars and clubs, sell 500 copies of an album and barely afford to eat and keep a roof over my head just to establish indie cred and develop some rabid cult following, and I'm sure that's the case with most artists, as well.

And really, trying to appease these music nerds and the music press is a lose-lose situation that isn't even worst dealing with. From what I've observed, if a band or artists makes a string of albums that sound anything alike (whether the quality is consistent or not), then these people will accuse them of repeating themselves, treading water stylistically, and running out of ideas or anything new to say. But then if an artist decides to experiment with their music, and their efforts fail in the eyes of these beholders, then they will lambaste them, claiming that they've fallen victim to self-indulgence and pretension, and that it pails in comparison to their best work (i.e. the album(s) that got them famous in the first place). Believe me, for every "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and "Kid A," there's thousands of 'Metal Machine Music"s and "Music for the Elder"s. So it's best that artists just forget about pleasing anybody and just make their own music, and hope that someone out there will hear it.

And really, that's all that fans are; the people that hear the music. Artists, for the most part, don't use music like bait to intentionally find a fan base; fans are people who are attracted to the music that they hear. If an artist develops a following of people that latch onto their music and can connect with it, then that's great. But they don't owe you anything. They don't have to stay on an indie label, remain under the radar, or avoid the charts like the plague in order to keep people happy. In the end, it’s their music, and as long as they have good intentions, then no one can tell them what to do.

— Jason Shoff

What happens when bands go broke? Reunion!

Whether we like it or not, most of our favorite bands seldom achieve Rolling Stones-esque longevity, touring and recording music until the only rocking they're doing is in a chair. Whether it's due to wanting to go out on top, egos ballooning to the point where band members loathe each others' guts, or the infamous "creative differences," most bands come to an end at some point. This leaves music labels to milk the cash cow by releasing countless compilations, and history to decide the bands’ ultimate fate and relevance in music history. But on occasion — whether it be solo careers not going as planned, money running out of bank accounts, or public outcry — bands will occasionally reunite to perform at a concert, go on tour to reload their wallets, or even attempt to record new material and become a full-fledged band again. However, in these past couple of years — especially this past summer — more bands than ever have been putting aside their creative personal differences and have been hitting the road, performing their greatest hits to an audience clamoring to hear them in person. And in the end, it's all about the moolah.

Now I know most of them will try and tell you differently. They'll say that they're putting old grudges aside to add proper endings to their histories — to give their fans proper curtain calls before they wrap things up for good. Or that they feel like the time is just right to bring their old songs back from the dead and give them new life. Or that they want to go back into the studios again to see if they can still make music together and if that chemistry is still there. But more often than not, most of these reunions smack of greed, especially at a time when the music industry is struggling to make money in a peer-to-peer world. And a reunion tour is one of the few certain things in today's music world.

Take, for instance, the reunion of legendary (and infamously volatile) classic-rock group Cream. It was no secret that bassist Jack Bruce and drummer Ginger Baker were struggling — achieving nowhere near the success that guitarist Eric Clapton had. But once their subsequent reunion shows in London and New York City were announced, a tremendous amount of hype built up in the press, and people paid top dollar to see these shows, and then bought the subsequent DVD and CD releases of the shows afterward. And all three were rewarded for putting their differences aside with big ego boosts and fuller pocketbooks. The same can be said for The Who and the Eagles; once the well started to run dry, and the offers were too good to refuse, these bands hit the road as an instant and surefire way to replenish their bank accounts. In fact, both bands have even recorded new albums as a way to make more money off of fans and have another reason to tour.

And the irony of it all is that the alternative rock community — a community that once prided itself in being anti-establishment and D.I.Y. — seems to be hit the hardest by the reunion bug. In the band’s day, the Pixies were an underground band with a cult-following, but thanks to the band’s legacy since it split, the members have since been able to sell out theaters across the country on the last reunion tour. And Dinosaur Jr. — whose bassist, Lou Barlow, has recently stated that all communication between him and guitarist J. Mascis has to go through Mascis' manager — have put their grudges aside long enough to play several highly-acclaimed tours and record an album that features some of their best music yet. Other bands don't even let a crucial member's absence get in the way. The remaining members of influential rock act The Jam have gone out on tour, despite the glaring absence of songwriter/guitarist/signer Paul Weller. Alice in Chains have also reunited for several tours, despite the fact that lead singer Layne Stayley died of a heroin overdose five years ago, and Blind Melon (of "No Rain" fame) have also announced a tour despite the death of singer Shannon Hoon. INXS went so far as to let an American TV audience decide who their replacement for singer Michael Hutchence would be.

Even though reunions can make big bucks for a band, it can have a devastating effect on their legacy. Take The Stooges, who reunited and have played shows that many have said recreate the sound of the band’s classic proto-punk albums. But this past spring the band released an album that, for many critics (and myself), is one of the worst of the year. Really, Iggy Pop was never a poet laureate, but when a band’s lyrics now involve hanging around an ATM and your dick turning into a tree, it should be a clear signal that it's time to hang things up.

Yet, from the many major reunion tours that are taking place this year, many bands fail to let a good thing die. Take the Smashing Pumpkins, for example. After the Pumpkins-on-Prozac sounds of Zwan and a solo album that sounded like second-rate Depeche Mode, Billy Corgan was inching close to Creed-like levels of irrelevancy. So what did he do? He took out a full-page ad to declare his intent to "get his band back," recorded an album with Jimmy Chamberlin that sounds like classic Pumpkins circa Mellon Collie, released four different versions of it (each with an "exclusive promo track" you can only get at said store), and booked a tour with James Iha and D'Arcy look alikes. And what happens? The album places No. 2 on the Billboard album chart, and the tour is a sell-out across the country.

Zach de la Rocha was also fading into obscurity just as fast, with a solo career that resulted in 0 albums after 7 years, making Axl Rose seem like metal's Ryan Adams by comparison. The rest of his old band, however, was having chart-topping success, with Chris Cornell in the band Audioslave (though rifts were starting to show during the release of their last album, Revelations). Suddenly, once that band met its demise, Rage announced their reunion show at Coachella, saying that their music was more relevant than ever with the Bush administration's Iraq fiasco, and that their reunion would deliver a "knock-out punch." They have since played a select number of shows, and though I'd like to believe that politics is the sole reason for their reunion, time will tell.

Less likely I believe, however, is David Lee Roth. During the press conference for Van Halen's reunion tour, Roth stated that this reincarnation is not a reunion, but a "whole new band that will continue to grow and evolve." But only a year ago, Roth was calling Eddie Van Halen "Eddie Van Heineken," and Van Halen was threatening to kick Roth's ass the next time he saw him. I guess that's what happens when your solo, radio, and paramedic careers sink like the Titanic.

Out of all the reunions, the biggest by far is that of The Police. So far, this is the only one I've attended so far, mostly because this is one of the few tours that transcends mere "concert" status and becomes an "event." In all honestly, The Police were one of my favorite rock bands growing up, and the fact that they were reuniting to perform some of my favorite songs in concert was a once in a lifetime event that I couldn't refuse. They put on a great show; they sounded great; Sting was in fine voice; and the band actually looked like they were having a good time onstage. But after paying $55 for a ticket, $35 for a T-shirt and $25 for a program (not to mention $6.50 for a hamburger and soda), I left with the feeling that there was more to it than just tying up loose ends, and that, if Sting's solo career was at the same level it was in the ’80s, this wouldn't have even happened.

So in the end, very few reunion tours feel genuine, as the Pink Floyd reunion at Live 8 did. Here, they would only play once to support a noble cause. There usually always seems to be some sort of ulterior motive that bands never let the public in on, but it hardly matters, as the public bites anyway. And yet as I'm typing this last paragraph, I read that the holy grail of band reunions, Led Zeppelin, has scheduled a press conference, supposedly to announce a one-off reunion gig in London in honor of late Atlantic Records founder Ahmet Ertegun. Now this is definitely an admirable gig, paying tribute to the man who made Led Zeppelin Led Zeppelin. But a part of me feels that, if this show goes well enough and there's an offer on the table, a bank account-filling tour will soon follow.

— Jason Shoff

A new no-talent Internet star is born

There's no better time to be an average Joe than today.

Seriously, if you are an average American who is obsessed with fame and achieving it to some degree, this is the perfect era in which to live. If you want to show the world how stupid you are by actually thinking you could have pulled off that rail, all you need to do is post a video on YouTube.com, and it will be viewed by millions. If you’ve always wanted to eat dead insects, live in a house with total strangers in some random locale, fill your car with all kinds of superfluous gadgets, or have the whole world know that you have a giant clock fetish, then the reality show is the way to go. Or if you want to become a pop superstar — the next Britney Spears with your hair still intact — all you need is a guitar, a song and a dream (talent isn’t required in the slightest), and you can post your music on sites like Myspace.com and YouTube.com for all the world to listen to. This is exactly what Adam ‘Tay Zonday’ Bahner did with his song “Chocolate Rain,” and he in turn has created a national phenomenon that no one can escape.

With a synth riff that only a child of the 80s could love (and hasn’t been heard in the mainstream since Soft Cell ruled the airwaves) and a voice that sounds like James Earl Jones before hitting puberty, Bahner has managed to create a pop phenomenon that makes one long for the days when “No Strings Attached” was No. 1 on the charts. On top an old-school arrangement that screams for a Michael Ian Black quip, Baher himself sounds like a broken record, singing lyrics that try their damnedest to sound substantial, but come off as a slight commentary on today’s society. Take, for instance, the very first line:

“Chocolate rain / some stay dry and others feel the pain.”

Seriously, it would be impossible for one to feel pain from chocolate rain. Why? Because it’s chocolate rain. If I found out it were raining chocolate rain, I would be standing in it, trying to drink as much of it as possible. Unless Baher is talking about after the fact, once everyone gains 50 pounds from drinking all the chocolate rain. Or he’s trying to see this through the eye of a diabetic, in which case it would seem like the end of the world (the “achocolypse,” if you will). Or how about this golden refrain:

“Chocolate rain / history quickly crashing through your veins.”

I’m sorry, but nothing, not even chocolate rain, could make history crash through my veins. If anything, all of my history classes have the same effects as a good tranquilizer; once it’s in your system, you’re pretty much out like a light for the next 40 minutes.

(I move away from my computer to catch some air before finishing my post.)

So in the end, what we have is a noble attempt at a song that, before the age of the World Wide Web, wouldn’t have found a place on any TV show, let alone Best Week Ever. And yet thanks to the glory of YouTube.com, millions have watched it, everyone from John Mayer to Tre Cool has covered it, and Baher even performed it on “Jimmy Kimmel Live” (to the bewilderment of many in the audience). Chalk it up to being a case of the William Hung Effect: guy posts song on Web, people think it’s funny, they send it to their friends going “check this out. This dude is making a total ass out of himself!” and it spreads like wildfire. There might be some sympathy to it, but overall it’s a case of people taking pleasure out of one’s lack of talent. Now I have to give the guy an A for effort; he has created a song that has become an inescapable pop culture phenomenon, and he does seem to be rather humbled by the song’s success. Let’s just hope there’s someone telling him, “Don’t quit your day job. Oh, and they’re laughing at you, not with you.”

— Jason Shoff

From rap sheet to powerful Southern rap

I walked out of the record store to my car with all the angst and expectations of a virgin in the final moments of his innocence. It was not the anticipation or the sweet taste of carnal pleasure that created the commotion in the pit of my stomach (or the burritos from lunch); it was my imminent reunion with UGK after five years of silence from Houston’s finest duo.

There is nothing more disappointing to a hip-hop fan than when a seasoned artist succumbs to a fad and releases an album so distant from their style that the only appropriate response upon hearing it, is to vomit from the windows to the wall, till the sweat drops down ... well, you get it.

This is what I half-expected of UGK’s double-disc and sixth-original album, “Underground Kingz.” From the first track, “Swishas and Dosha,” I was proven wrong. Bun B and the recently freed Pimp C pumped out their signature smooth beats, bluesy choruses and thuggish lyrics, all delivered in the calmest manner known to gangster rap.

However, we have more MCs than just Bun B and Pimp C to thank for this record’s moments of Zen. “International Players Anthem,” produced by Three 6 Mafia featuring Outkast, is probably hip-hop’s best collaborative effort so far this year. Unfortunately it will never see the light of radio due to Andre 3000’s unorthodox but impressive opening verse.
The cameos continued with rappers of all genres, including Too Short, Scarface, Talib Kweli, Slim Thug, Rick Ross, TI and more. UGK even brought in British rapper Dizzee Rascal.

The variety of featured artists reflects one of the larger themes of this record. As articulated in “Quit Hatin’ The South,” UGK sends a clear message that rap can be from anywhere as long as it sounds good and the lyrics are legit. In addition to this, UGK turns its insightfulness towards the past and wonders whether gangster rap was the right path for them to follow. Of course it was! As a result of their melancholic musing, we get songs like “How Long Can It Last,” “Shattered Dreams” and “Living This Life,” which are reminiscent of “One Day” from UGK’s 1996 album, “Ridin’ Dirty.”

Filled to the brim with cocaine, pimpin’, cars and hard knocks some might say that “Underground Kingz” is a dime a dozen these days. And, to a certain extent, that’s true. Yes, hip-hop is over saturated with bling, narcotics, “hoes,” and ridiculous bass lines. But what the cynics forget is that UGK helped create the southern gangster rap wagon that everyone has recently jumped on. What else would you expect from a group Mike Watts, founder of SwishaHouse Records, called the “foundation of today’s southern style,” and Lil’ Wayne acknowledges as his inspiration?

They have lived the life their lyrics describe, and it is evident in the originality of their style, the rap sheet of Pimp C, and on tracks like “Living This Life,” which express a transformation of their psyche: from pure thug to gangsters with heart. Simply put, UGK has created another rap album that many will emulate and most will fall far short of achieving.

So if you’re looking for a way to spruce up your underground image as you drive around in your Ford Focus this semester, pick up “Underground Kingz,” and pop it in the CD player. Clean instrumentals candy coated with sincere stories from Houston’s underworld cement a rap enlightenment your crappy family sedan belies. And if that ain’t enough, at least you can get a complimentary UGK Records air freshener.

— Chris Piel