Every card-carrying member of the indie scene's favorite radio station is making a few changes this fall.
In order to tighten up its format and shore up ratings (or rather, just become rated) so it can attract national advertising, the indie rock station-of-record in Los Angeles, Indie 103.1, has moved several shows, and will ditch a few others.
Henry Rollins' weekly show is moving to Saturdays from 8 to 10 p.m., from its previous Tuesday night time slot. Brent Bolthouse and Danny Masterson's "Feel My Heat" is on "hiatus," according to a representative of the station, (and EW.com) as is the Crystal Method's Friday night dance music program, "Community Service."
"You have to look at the overall programming, and radio stations have to be consistent," Indie 103.1 programming director Max Tolkoff said Tuesday. "We have to be consistent from hour to hour. Part of Indie moving forward is to try and get that consistency from 6 a.m. to midnight, Monday to Friday... that's the idea."
Both Rollins' manager and Crystal Method's representative confirm the changes...
Why is it that Republican candidates keep stepping in it when they try to use pop music as a rallying cry?
Ronald Reagan incited an uproar when he attempted to get his reelection campaign rocking in 1984 to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” His campaign staff apparently only ever listened to that one line in the song, not the rest protesting the shabby treatment Vietnam War veterans had received after coming home.
Flash forward to 2008 when Jackson Browne sued Sen. John McCain’s campaign for unauthorized use of his 1978 hit “Running on Empty" to take a swipe in a TV ad at rival Sen. Barack Obama’s run for the presidency.
Now McCain and running mate Sarah Palin have sounded echoes of the Reagan gaffe with the use of the 1994 Martina McBride country hit “Independence Day”...
The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival will be April 17-19 and its country cousin, the Stagecoach Festival, will be the following weekend, April 25-26.
The lineups will be announced in the weeks to come but there's already two interesting developments. First, Coachella is moving up early in April. Why? The answer lies in Louisiana, of all places. AEG Live, the concert promotion company that became a partner in Coachella in 2001, is also the corporate engine these days behind the grand old New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, which will be April 24-26 and April 30-May 3. Both massive events are now national (or international even) in their target audience and media coverage and for logistical reasons the decision was made to spread them out a bit.
The other interesting wrinkle is the fact that Stagecoach will go back to a two-day affair in this its third year. Is that a sign of tough economic times? Or perhaps an indication that, after two all-star years, the promoters are finding hard to find new faces worthy of the main stage? Maybe a little bit of both? Stagecoach promoters say no to both. They said the three-day slate last year was a quirk that only happened when the Eagles came available for that Friday night appearance in the low desert. As Coachella co-founder Paul Tollett told the Desert Sun not long ago: “Last year The Eagles popped up, so that was just an anomaly. California’s coolest band pops up and you grab it.”
As far as hip-hop artists go, T.I. may lack some of the family-friendly cultural capital that gets guys like Jay-Z or Pharrell Williams into commercials for Hewlett Packard and Microsoft. In T.I.'s nearly 10-year career, which started when he was discovered in a barbershop by his longtime manager, Jason Geter (also the current manager for Outkast's Big Boi), he's never been one to pull punches or bite his tongue. A brusque performer, he lacks the ironic rage of Lil Jon or the repetitive ad libs of so many snap-happy trap rappers from the South. Although a small, wiry guy, he casts a huge presence onstage and rightfully holds down his claim to being King of the South.
Backed by the raspy-voiced mix-tape entrepreneur DJ Drama, T.I. went onstage at Key Club at about 10 p.m. for the MySpace show, and already he had the crowd wound up. Starting with a litany of the best from his last six albums, "24s" from his "Trap Muzik" album was a huge crowd-pleaser at the start. And it was evident, even before he got to taking his shirt off, that he had a penchant for arousing mass hysteria in the ladies --- the stuff of LL Cool J legend. ...
The REDCAT stage looked like a rehearsal room Friday night when Lou Reed, Ulrich Krieger and Sarth Calhoun took the stage. Effects boxes, pedals and other sound manipulation tools were strewn here and there in cluttered arrangements. In the center, a row of guitars sat next to a vintage amp. The set-up was practical, not symbolic, but it also carried a message: Tonight's performance by the trio, going by the name "Unclassified," would be informal and almost private, an act of creation first and a show second.
Not all improvisers adopt this casual aura. Some are highly theatrical, other quietly mystical. Still others are aggressive punks. But for Reed, one of the most venerated leather-jacket-clad pioneers of the rock era, this evening offered something particular -- the chance to put aside his image along with his songbook, and turn inward. He had his collaborators and the intimate room downstairs in Disney Hall to thank for that.
Reed has been in an arty mood lately. His latest release is the DVD of "Berlin Live at St. Ann's Warehouse," the Julian Schnabel-directed concert film of his super-heavy 1973 song cycle of that name. He recently performed with fellow New York boho potentate John Zorn, and earlier this year he wed his longtime partner, performance art doyenne Laurie Anderson. Tonight's concert is part of this move away from having to recap "Sweet Jane" for drunken nightclub nostalgics, and toward a serious legacy.
My hubby Eric and I got into an argument about T.I. driving back from the Neil Diamond concert the other night. (I know, it's not typical to mix the Jewish Elvis and Atlanta's illest, but that's the poptimist life we lead.) "Paper Trail," Tip's sixth album, was in the car stereo, and we were admiring the shiny-sharp production from Drumma Boy, Toomp, Just Blaze and others, which sets up the rapper's coolly commanding flow on hit after soon-to-be hit -- the album's already produced three Billboard Top 100 winners, and it's been out only a week.
Foremost among T.I.'s current successes is "Whatever You Like," pop-rap's latest ode to throwing money around. The sing-song rap was produced by Jim Jonsin, who also coproduced Lil' Wayne's smash "Lollipop"; like that song, it's a rough guy's come-on, deceptively light in tone but with an undertow that represents its hero's driving need for conquest. With five nonconsecutive weeks topping the charts, it's T.I.'s most successful single ever.
It also just might be the perfect soundtrack for a nation in an economic tailspin.
Van Morrison is nothing if not a patient man -- at least when it comes to his landmark 1968 album "Astral Weeks."
The work established him as one of rock's most revered singers and songwriters after his initial bout with fame and commercial success a few years earlier with his band Them. But it wasn’t a big hit -- it never cracked Billboard’s Top 200 Albums chart -- and took 33 years to reach gold record status, denoting sales of 500,000 copies. It has, however, consistently shown up on critics' lists of the greatest albums of all time, alongside the Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," the Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds" and Bob Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde."
Come November, to mark the 40th anniversary of the album’s release, he’s doing a pair of shows at the Hollywood Bowl performing the album in its entirety, something he never did originally.
“In the '60s and '70s the record companies did not support the music, so I never got to take these songs on tour, and I certainly did not have the money to do it,” the mercurial 63-year-old said in a news release announcing the shows. “These songs are as timeless and fresh right now as the day they were written and I am happy about taking them to the Hollywood Bowl."
Tonight's show at Royce Hall for McCabe's 50th anniversary show is already pretty stacked: Jackson Browne, Richard Thompson, Odetta, Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Ricky Jay, Ditty Bops and lots more. But guess who else is coming. Hint: She's got something in her pocket.
Hey, did you hear? A long-absent, wildly influential act out of Britain is playing a handful of highly anticipated and absurdly well received gigs. No? Well, the first of My Bloody Valentine's two nights at the cavernous steel echo chamber that is the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium took place last night, and while we'll have a complete wrap-up on Friday after Margaret checks out tonight's show, I just had to weigh in on one of the more talked-about aspects of their shows. Namely, the 10-odd-minute white-noise excursion MBV launches into midway through the pounding "You Made Me Realise" at the close of an admittedly jaw-dropping set.
First thing: bring your earplugs. No really. BRING THEM. If you happen to have your pair whisked away by the overzealous door security because their carrying case resembles contraband (thanks, guys!), grab a pair from the box by the entrance, and then grab another pair as a backup. Seriously. There's a reason why they're free and available. There's loud, there's Kiss circa 1978-loud, and then there's "You Made Me Realise."
Well guess what? She is also a musician. Alyssa Suede, who shares a father with Beck, dropped her debut EP, "Black & White in Color," this week (although technically it came out last month, according to her MySpace blog, where she previously posted that the disc was on sale at "this dope men's clothing store called Traffic" inside the Beverly Center).
Make no mistake: Suede did not get Beck's innovative songwriting gene. Tracks like "Ferris Wheel" are far too conventional and certainly won't win over serious fans of her brother's work. Still, Suede got a nice assist from her (and Beck's) dad, noted composer-arranger David Campbell, who produced and co-wrote songs on "Back & White in Color," making the EP worth a listen.
"Fallout" in particular shows potential; with impossibly understated minor-key string arrangements and Suede's measured vocals. But the rest of the offering reveals that Suede, who was once a competitive figure skater, may have spent more of her formative years listening to the Cranberries and Sarah McLachlan instead of her brother's work (not that there is anything wrong with Sarah McLachlan or the Cranberries, mind you). Regardless, Suede has chops that show promise in the future -- if paired with the right song, that is.
Every card-carrying member of the indie scene's favorite radio station is making a few changes this fall. 
The REDCAT stage looked like a rehearsal room Friday night when Lou Reed, Ulrich Krieger and Sarth Calhoun took the stage. Effects boxes, pedals and other sound manipulation tools were strewn here and there in cluttered arrangements. In the center, a row of guitars sat next to a vintage amp. The set-up was practical, not symbolic, but it also carried a message: Tonight's performance by the trio, going by the name "Unclassified," would be informal and almost private, an act of creation first and a show second.
My hubby Eric and I got into an argument about T.I. driving back from the Neil Diamond concert the other night. (I know, it's not typical to mix the Jewish Elvis and Atlanta's illest, but that's the 
Van Morrison is nothing if not a patient man -- at least when it comes to his landmark 1968 album "Astral Weeks."
Did you know Beck had a half-sister? Neither did we. 
