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| Alcohol is the great equalizer. It can make a smarter person stupid, make an ugly girl (or guy) exponentially better looking, and make your worst enemy your best friend. It can also make you make a slew of other stupid decisions - but can it make Dierks Bentley and his motley crew of openers sound good? To find the answer to this question I set out with my friend Steve (name has been changed) to find the answer as well as chronicle the adventure that was to be the ETSU Homecoming 2006 concert.
There is a shirt that reads "Country Music Is Dead" across the chest and "Johnny Cash 1932-2003" on the back. To me and my friend Steve nothing could be truer. I always wonder what has happened to country music, the music that spoke of the hard working man in relatable terms that didn't turn to clich鳠of your wife leaving with your dog - the songs my grandpa and dad use to play, the country music that no one in my generation ever got to hear.
I guess in a way the Wal-Mart country that is out there today relates to people but I think it is on a baser level. The clich鳠that are sprinkled throughout its lyrics like horny frat boys at a kegger seemingly could speak to any lower income family or someone that likes to drink or anyone who considers himself (or herself) to be a hillbilly.
In an attempt to have a good time and in the spirit of true country Steve and myself went to Amigo for their $2 beer and their assortment of other fine liquors. In an effort to keep an accurate record I abstained and instead partook of some delicious quesadillas and ketchup-covered tacos. Two-hours, an embarrassing run in with a friend's parents, two margaritas (6 shots of tequila), one Jack and Coke (3 shots of Jack Daniels), 2 shots of Jagermeister and a 32-ounce beer later Steve finds himself cutoff and shit-faced.
After walking (well, Steve kind of stumbled) to the Mini-Dome and masking Steve's breath with gum the adventure (of sorts) began. To start the show the Randy Rogers Band began trying to rock out, as best they could, with their rock star (in '95) chic shiny half-way buttoned up shirts with chest hair creeping out.
While their gooney-looking guitarist stage left hit on the zaftig girl in the front, Steve began to wander into the standing area in front of the stage. He then said something to a couple of underage girls in the best country-hooker outfits and walked away with a crooked smile on his face and sat down. Steve then bored with the entire situation, got up during "Kiss Me In the Dark" and began to search for the bathroom. After an exhaustive search for the facilities he tried to take his seat again only to be railroaded by the security staff. Not knowing what to do Steve wandered over next to the deaf attendees and sat beside them in the handicapped seating.
After the Randy Rogers Band finished their lackluster set which nobody seemed to care about, the 2003 Nashville Star finalist Miranda Lambert took to the stage to an unsurprising cheer from the large crowd. After a few songs Steve looked to me and simply said, "Man she isn't that good at singing but I'd lay the pipe to her." While I don't agree with the latter part of Steve's statement, I do agree with the former. Backed by a m鬡nge of misfit Nashville studio musicians, one with a Mohawk (leaving me to wonder when mowhawks stopped being punk rock and became country), Lambert banged out tunes that echo the sentiments of seemingly every Wal-Mart country act.
In two songs Lambert spoke of shooting men with some sort of gun - which leaves me wondering where the protesters were for this student concert. Christian groups on campus and a slew of other people were offend by Ludacris' misogyny yet everyone was pleased with Lambert shooting some guys - maybe I was the only one in attendance who noticed or cared.
Steve seemed completely oblivious to everything at this point, except the girls sitting in front of us. Doing his best impression of a drunk James Dean Steve started doing what every drunk white guy does - listing everything he had to drink to these girls. Surprisingly the girls actually seemed amused by his drunken antics. When one of the girls went to the bathroom Steve then tried to convince me that the one "hott girl" wanted my "rod." "Come on dude, this girl is all over your stuff man. Don't be afraid of her flavor," Steve kept insisting.
Somewhere in this mess the crooning country bumpkin left the stage and the wait for Dierks Bentley was nearly over. Steve just sat slouched in his seat staring forward during the intermission. Steve's disposition didn't change much for the rest of the night. When asked what was wrong, he just turned to me and said, "This is like getting kicked in the nuts for 30 minutes and then you get a break and another person jumps in and starts kicking you for another 30 minutes."
After the concert I didn't talk to Steve for a couple of days. When I finally caught up with him he let me in on his thoughts on his concert experience after he sobered up. "Taking the Dierks Bentley challenge, I thought that an idling engine would sound like a classical symphony let alone a world famous touring performer," Steve said. "Turns out that as the night wore on the sweet hum of a '67 Chevy would have been much appreciated." "The pre-gaming of the concert was twice as entertaining as the concert itself," Steve said. "I am still not sure what gave me the headache, the booze or the Bentley." | | |
| The story of a rock critic's self-degradation It is hard enough to try to gain credibility as an indie-rock music critic in Johnson City, a small East Tennessee town with virtually no music scene. When I heard I was going to New York City for the annual CMA journalism conference in March I thought I was "movin' on up."
Little did I know that hours later, I - one who abhors MTV and everything it stands for -would be enlisted in the rabid legion of Tiger Beat readers who make up the network's Total Request Live (TRL) audience.
In the late '80s and early '90s when I was in my tweens, I would commandeer the remote from my parents' grasp in hopes of glimpsing Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" or Aerosmith's "Janie's Got a Gun" on MTV. At one point I started recording my favorite music videos on a VHS tape that I had swiped from my mom's catalog of Days of Our Lives episodes. Sitting in front of the television with the patience of a 40-year-old virgin, I would wait, VCR remote in hand, ready to record the next piece of meaningful rock art, that alas, has long since faded as MTV has succumbed to reality-based staples like "The Real World," "Laguna Beach" and "There and Back."
Now the few times I see music videos on MTV it is either in the a.m. after most everyone is asleep or during TRL, where MTV devotes more time to show shots of pubescent teenage girls giving a "shout out" than to broadcasting music videos in their entirety.
Still I was in New York City for the journalism conference in the Roosevelt Hotel, and when I found myself with a few hours to kill before my 3 p.m. check-in, so I began a search for free swag and things to do where I found a booth to sign up to be a studio audience member for television tapings in the New York City area "Good Morning America," Fox News and MTV's very own pop juggernaut and unofficial flagship program TRL. I dismissed "Good Morning America" broadcast. I'd have to be ready to go at 5:30 a.m. and for a person who normally falls asleep 30 minutes before then, the odds of me getting up seemed pretty dismal. Finally after some mental argument I decided to venture into the belly of the beast that has nearly destroyed the very basis on which rock 'n' roll was founded. I thought "why not" as I scribbled my name down beside countless TRL hopefuls, of which only 20 would be chosen.
I grabbed lunch at some random burger place and then headed back to the hotel for the TRL drawing. As it started, the man with the bag of names imposed another condition - no one in dark-colored clothing could go. It stated clearly on the printout, he said that you had to wear brightly colored clothing and to be ready to go when your name is picked. I quickly approached a woman who had a hand full of bright green shirts in her hand - freebies but all were a girl's size medium. I began to negotiate with her in hopes of scoring one of the shirts, if my name was drawn. No asinine MTV dress code would stop me from peering into the inner workings of the network I loathed so intensely.
With all but two names to go, I was still waiting and beginning to feel dejected. Then, like a last-minute reprieve from the governor to a man strapped in the electric chair, he called my name. Nothing has ever sounded sweeter!
I stretched into the bright green baby doll-cut girls T-shirt and was on my way to Times Square. Before we could be whisked upstairs to the room where such musical legends such as 'N Sync, the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears and Korn have performed, we had to get our MTV TRL armbands. The lady giving them out was more excited than a 3-year-old who had just snorted a pixy stick.Then I was stripped of all my possessions and berated by an overweight rent-a-cop for attempting to call my girlfriend so that she could catch my moment of glory on live television. I fell in line like a cow waiting for the slaughter - what was being slaughtered here was my integrity as an indie-rock journalist.
How could I have sold out for a primo seat on the TRL set on the stage overlooking Times Square?
Minutes before going live, the fanatical woman asked, "Who wants to dance for some free stuff?" Figuring there is nothing funnier than the moves of a skinny white boy who lacks rhythm, I raised my hand. I did the funky chicken, the moonwalk, the Macarena and my piece de resistance-the worm. The crowd cheered; girls swooned; I got to make an ass of myself and smash my testicles during the worm, and I got an oversized TRL T-shirt for my trouble.
After TRL went live I had grown tired of the green T-shirt cutting off the circulation in my arms. With TRL veejay Damien Fahey and special co-host Amanda Bynes standing in front of me after a portion of a Madonna video played, I decided to relieve the problem, not by removing the T-shirt like a common man but like the manliest of men, Hulk Hogan. After pre-ripping a hole in the collar, I shredded the shirt on camera directly to Bynes' right. During a commercial break, preparation for Natasha Bedingfield's performance of "Unwritten," I noticed a small seating area directly to the right of the camera crane. It seemed like an out-of-the-way place for seats, and then I noticed something about the people sitting there. They were not your typical TRL audience, not the "pretty" in the "oh, look at me" sorority girl, teenybopper way those people were sitting in the main seating area were.
Was it is just a coincidence or is MTV as superficial and staged as I had so often thought?
After a brief appearance by the Gideon "indie" Yago for and the presentation of the Number 1 video I was led out to collect my things. I came, I saw and I sold out for a lousy damned-shirt. story used with permission of the East Tennessean. Online version can be found here
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| It seems like every time I have something printed here in the “buckle” of the Bible Belt something goes incredibly awry. Recently my school (East Tennessee State University) had their spring concert, the Goo Goo Dolls, and since I am the music writer I went to write a “review” of sorts for it and hey I had to pay the $20 student activities and they were taking my money. The following is my “review” which is meant to be tongue and cheek and just plain funny and many people have expressed to me that even though they enjoyed the concert they though my article was just that, while others just thought it was funny. But it never fails that the loudest voice is always the angry one and that is what my editor and advisor at the paper are hearing. In the first day they have received 6 letters to the editor and 2 phone calls one being from the girl I have a conversation with in the article and they were all pissed. Personally I find it all quiet funny. If you having something positive to say or even if you just have something negative to say feel free to write a letter to the editor at etnews@mail.etsu.edu .
**I will probably edit this later on in the afternoon adding pictures and a few quotes from the letters to the editor**
Going into the Goo Goo Dolls concert, I did not expect much from punks turned adult contemporary "rockers."
With their new record coming out this Tuesday (that has already been panned by the majority of rock critics) and being without a top 20 hit since "Black Balloon" that reached the 13 spot in 1999, I began to wonder what many had been wondering: why did we pay a bunch of over-the-hill power ballad singers $100,000?
I guess we will never find that out, but God knows ETSU loves to book bands that were big back when the majority of us were in middle school.
Before the Goo Goo Dolls could woo us with their archaic hits, the crowd was forced to endure the insufferable power-pop that is Knoxville's The Big Tease, and ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to say after an extensive search and many arduous journeys, I have found the child actor from the Problem Child movies series and he is playing guitar and singing (kind of) in The Big Tease. John Ritter would be so proud.
The Big Tease, with their not-so-witty-between-song banter, cliché band garb (button ups, ties and suits) and their horrible Click 5ish sound, could not even win the crowd over.
Things are definitely going badly for a band when the biggest cheer they receive all night is when they announce they are playing their final song.
Then, after a wait of what seemed forever, ambient music filled the stage and the lights dimmed for the Goo Goo Dolls' entrance.
Already bored and with a deep hate growing in my stomach, I began to boo the Goo Goo Dolls arrival. Why did I have a deep hate for the Goo Goo Dolls?
Not only was I pissed that they did not bring the "special guest" they promised for the high price of $100,000 but a source (we will call him Jack) of mine told me of a lighting debacle in their dressing room.
"The tour manger was like 'we need ambience in here these fluorescent lights are too harsh,' " Jack said.
These over-the-hill prima donnas should be less worried about the lighting in their dressing room and more worried about their shitty record being scoffed at by most every reputable music magazine.
After I yelled that the Goo Goo Dolls sucked, a girl whose breath smelt something like a dog's after it is through licking itself began to yell at me.
Dog Breath: "If you do not like them, then why are you here?"
Eddie: "I am doing a review of it for the paper and I was forced to pay for it."
Dog Breath: "Honey, I am a journalism major too and you are supposed to be unbiased."
Eddie: "I am unbiased and I know for a fact that they suck. Have you heard their new record?"
After my enriching conversation with Dog Breath, the Goo Goo Dolls finally took the stage and began their one hour-plus reign over the Mini-Dome.
Johnny Rzeznik, with his sketchy tattoos, newly highlighted hair and Bon Jovi-like appearance wooed the ladies and the moms in the crowd with ballad after ballad until bassist Robby Takac sang something that sounded like, "Grrrruuuummmbbble," in a Lemmy (of Motorhead fame) voice, only you can understand Lemmy when he sings.
After Takac finished grumbling, the Goo Goo Dolls unleashed their last hit upon the crowd, "Black Balloon," and the girls swooned and moms cheered.
Ten power ballads and "Grrrruuuummmbbble Part II" later they Goo Goo Dolls broke out the mega-hit "Iris" and the crowd erupted with glee.
They then exited the stage, only to return minutes later (like every band) for an encore that included 2005's "Give A Little Bit." | | |
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Everybody seems to think that Chuck Norris is the toughest man in the world. I beg to differ with these people and Hot Topic. If you watch or ever have watched Fox's 24 you know that Jack Bauer is indeed the world's toughest man. If you have not watched 24 turn off the WB for a moment and watch what I believe is the greatest show ever to be televised.
- Killing Jack Bauer doesn't make him dead. It just makes him angry.
- If Jack Bauer was in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Nina Meyers, and he had a gun with 2 bullets, he'd shoot Nina twice.
- If you wake up in the morning, it's because Jack Bauer spared your life.
- Superman wears Jack Bauer pajamas.
- If it tastes like chicken, looks like chicken, and feels like chicken, but Jack Bauer says its beef. Then you better believe it's beef.
- Jack Bauer once forgot where he put his keys. He then spent the next half-hour torturing himself until he gave up the location of the keys.
- 1.6 billion Chinese are angry with Jack Bauer. Sounds like a fair fight.
- Let's get one thing straight: the only reason you are conscious right now is because Jack Bauer does not feel like carrying you.
- Jack Bauer was never addicted to heroin. Heroin was addicted to Jack Bauer.
- Jack Bauer played Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun and won.
- When life gave Jack Bauer lemons, he used them to kill terrorists. Jack Bauer hates lemonade.
- Jack Bauer once won a game of Connect 4 in 3 moves.
- Osama bin Laden's recent proposal for truce is a direct result of him finding out that Jack Bauer is, in fact, still alive.
- Jack Bauer is the leading cause of death in Middle Eastern men.
- Jack Bauer doesn't miss. If he didn't hit you it's because he was shooting at another terrorist twelve miles away.
- When Jack Bauer was a child, he made his mother finish his vegetables.
- Jack Bauer killed 93 people in just 4 days time. Wait, that is a real fact.
- Simon Says should be renamed to Jack Bauer Says because if Jack Bauer says something then you better do it.
- Jack Bauer won the Tour de France on a unicycle to prove to Lance Armstrong it wasn't a big deal. He thinks yellow wristbands are gay.
- When Jack Bauer pissses into the wind, the wind changes direction.
- Jack Bauer's favorite color is severe terror alert red. His second favorite color is violet, but just because it sounds like violent.
- When you open a can of whoop-ass, Jack Bauer jumps out.
- When Google can't find something, it asks Jack Bauer for help.
- You can lead a horse to water. Jack Bauer can make him drink.
- Jack Bauer can get McDonald's breakfast after 10:30.
- When the boogie man goes to sleep, he checks his closet for Jack Bauer.
- Every mathematical inequality officially ends with "< Jack Bauer".
- In 96 hours, Jack Bauer has killed 93 people and saved the world 4 times. What the hell have you done with your life?
- Jesus died and rose from the dead in 3 days. It took Jack Bauer less than an hour. And he's done it twice.
- Jack Bauer killed so many terrorists that at one point, the #5 CIA Most Wanted fugitive was an 18-year-old teenager in Malaysia who downloaded the movie Dodgeball.
- In kindergarten, Jack Bauer killed a terrorist for Show and Tell.
- What color is Jack Bauer's blood? Trick question. Jack Bauer does not bleed.
- Guns dont kill people, Jack Bauer kills people.
- If Jack and MacGyver were locked in a room together, Jack would make a bomb out of MacGyver and get out.
- People with amnesia still remember Jack Bauer.
- Sun Tzu once wrote, "If your enemy is weaker, conquer him. If he is stronger, join him. If he is Jack Bauer, you're f***ing dead."
- Jack Bauer literally died for his country, and lived to tell about it.
- Jack Bauer has been to Mars. That's why there's no life on Mars.
- Superman's only weakness is Kryptonite. Jack Bauer laughs at Superman for having a weakness.
- When Batman is in trouble, he turns on the Jack Bauer signal.
- It took Jack Bauer two minutes to beat a confession out of OJ.
- If Jack Bauer was gay, his name would be Chuck Norris.
- The bumper sticker on Jesus's car reads, "WWJBD?"
- Jack Bauer was conceived by torturing the other sperm until they gave up the location of the egg.
- After 7 minutes of interrogation at the hands of Jack Bauer, Tom Cruise admitted that he was gay.
- Jack Bauer's family threw him a surprise birthday party when he was a child. Once.
If you enjoy 24 and enjoy drinking check this out. | | |
| Last week I was censored for an asinine reason. They said that the line did not make any sense. I guess you all will just have to judge for yourself. The line that got censored as well as other words that got censored will be in bold. Here is the my piece entitled "Follically challenged star vs. real talent" enjoy. If you think my publication sucks for censoring me (remember that it is a college paper) then write them a letter and send it to eteditor@mail.etsu.edu!
"Follically challenged star vs. real talent"
"You don't think I sold out because I wouldn't sign that girl's boob, do you?" Ryan Adams asked me last May after his show at the Tennessee Theatre in Knoxville.
"Of course not," I replied. "She looked pretty skanky anyways."
Now, nearly a year later, I am asking myself the same question: has Ryan Adams sold out?
While at my local indie-record store when my friend Josh was switching CDs a (kind of) familiar sound from the speakers filled the room. A radio station was actually playing "When the Stars Go Blue" by Adams, but something was amiss.
Gone were the warm live guitar tracks and the somber sound of the Rhodes piano.
In their place was the polished "twangy" sound of a radio country hit from Nashville, complete with drab steel guitar and cheesy backing vocals. What the fuck was I listening to? Then he started singing - the baldheaded, cowboy hat wearing, redneck woman masturbation fodder that is Tim McGraw.
As I did my best to control my gag reflex, I continued to listen as this talent-less baldy ruined one of the best tracks off of Adams' sophomore record Gold.
After listening to the entire song, I left the record store with a bad taste in my mouth. Had the former Whiskeytown front man that stirs up more shit in the press than the majority of present day rock stars cashed in and destroyed any credibility he had?
Had Ryan Adams sold out?
I did not mind when Starbucks whores The Corrs covered "When the Stars Go Blue" with Bono because Bono has some semblance of credibility left among music fans.
I did not even grumble over the fact that "When the Stars Go Blue" was covered by Tyler Hilton and Bethany Joy Lenz on the One Tree Hill Soundtrack because at least when Lenz played it on an episode of One Tree Hill she let everyone know it was an Adams song.
But I cannot seem to get over the fact that McGraw has taken the song and made it his own.
It seems to be a bonafied hit among the hillbilly populace here in Tennessee and those dumb bastards think that McGraw actually wrote it.
Even though it is frustrating to watch a song be ruined by a shitty artist, I cannot blame Adams for making a few dollars off of a song that he could have made a hit out of himself … had he chosen to put a cowboy hat on and let Nashville rape him of his dignity as it has done to so many before him.
In this day and age, where credible musicians are left to toil away in obscurity while those with less talent excel in the mainstream, an artist has to make a buck where he can. Adams sold out about as much as Bob Dylan did when he let The Byrds take credit for "Mr. Tambourine Man," but that will not stop me from bitch slapping the first redneck that tells me he loves the new Tim McGraw song.
Maybe things will turn out as well for Adams in the long run as they have for Dylan.
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