Bandcrab

Most things you love as a child seem kind of silly once you’re grown up. Barbies? If they were real women, they’d be of mutant proportions! Pixy Stix? Cavity city! But some loves never die. For me, it’s that of my love for the Beatles. Yep, I was THAT kid in kindergarten who sang “Yellow Submarine” for show and tell. And I was the tyke who sat on my dad’s knee as he plunked out “When I’m Sixty-Four” on his guitar. Other kids had Barney; I had my Liverpool boys.

So when I heard Paul McCartney was getting his star (finally!) on the Hollywood Walk of Fame about a block from my apartment, I was chuffed. I pondered ditching work Thursday on terms of “religious holiday” (hey, “All You Need Is Love” is a valid spiritual belief), but I refrained. But not wanting to squander the whole experience, I sauntered up to a crowd of about 40 fans breathlessly waiting their chance to see Macca up close.

I lucked out, getting there just as his car was exiting the premises. True, all I saw of him was his arm waving cordially as the swarm thanked and congratulated him on his new standards record, Kisses on the Bottom (Hear Music). Well, there was also that dude who claims Jennifer Aniston made him homeless among us, making us all look bad as he accosted McCartney’s vehicle, searching for a handout. But other than that, the split second of being in the Beatle’s presence was exhilarating.

I can’t begin to imagine what it was like to be a youth of the 1960s in the nascent throngs of Beatlemania. This outing was definitely more tame and refined (guess no one wanted to give the 69-year-old a heart attack). But that same electricity and wonderment ran through my spine at that moment, like the decades of fandom culminated right there. It was almost as powerful as when I saw McCartney perform at Coachella in 2009 (for three hours, no less!). There is just a positivity that radiates from being in the vicinity of such music greatness.


Me and “Fab Forever” at the Riveria in Las Vegas in 2006. I’m such a Beatles fangirl that I even almost wept at meeting a tribute band! (Notice my purse.)

Photos by Raphael Patricio

It was like something out of a Charlton Heston movie. On one side of the battlefield, damn dirty apes raised their hairy fists in defiance of their human oppressors. On the opposing end, the people united to overcome this newly empowered foe. Between these warring factions patrolled a deadly laser beam that would indiscriminately slice through anything in its path.

And this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that happened at They Might Be Giants’ 30th anniversary show.

Read more at PopMatters!

Photo by QueenCrab/Melissa Bobbitt

The side project of Blink-182’s guitarist and vocalist Tom DeLonge might as well be called Egos and Airwaves. Pomp, given the circumstances, absolutely enthralled the huddled masses of hoodie-wearing youth at the Avalon on January 23rd. But deep within the object of these kids’ adoration lives an extremely vulnerable front man.

Read more at PopMatters!
Check out our AvA photo album at Facebook!

QueenCrab’s chuffed to be attending this evening the 30th anniversary show of They Might Be Giants at UCLA’s Royce Hall. These merry pranksters of rock proved that music doesn’t need a cool sheen to ensure longevity.

In this whiz-bang world where 15 minutes of fame has now shrunk to about 15 seconds (sorry, Lana Del Rey), it’s a near-miracle that bands stick around for 10 years, much less 30! So here’s a salute to other groups from the Class of 1982 celebrating their Dirty 30 this year:

CHUMBAWAMBA

They get knocked down, but they get up again. England’s favorite anarchists ring in their 30th as the cast of the ragtime-y stage show Big Society.

JAMES

These Brits have no intentions to “Sit Down,” as one of their Madchester classics suggests. Though they went dormant from 2001-2007, they’ve been a-go-go since, and will grace the stage at Coachella in April.

MURPHY’S LAW

This is hardcore. The NYC rabble-rousers are notorious for their communal-feeling concerts and their exemplary DIY attitude. Though front man Jimmy Gestapo is the only original member, the original spirit of unity through punk rock rings true. No word yet on their 2012 plans.

THE POGUES

File this one under: miracle. The fact that singer Shane MacGowan is still even with us is supernatural, as he’s known as much for his imbibing as he is his talent. 2012 promises to be a busy year for these Celtic rock ruffians: They’re touring Australia and Japan, and accordionist James Fearnley is penning a memoir, out May 2012.

From a superb film about growing older but not growing up comes a superb soundtrack pleasantly stuck in the ’90s. “Young Adult,” the Charlize Theron starrer in which she portrays a teen-steam ghostwriter who lives on Diet Coke and maliciousness, flings us back to the Clinton era with its crunchy, infectious tunes.

Theron’s Mavis road trips to the Replacements, crashes her car to Veruca Salt’s “Seether” and gets loaded with grown-up fanboy Patton Oswalt courtesy of Cracker’s “Low.” Mavis uses these power-chord anthems to escape the garish reality of 21st-century living, but we absorb them with a fond nostalgia.

The “Young Adult” soundtrack was released by Rhino Records.

This faux poster is likely what a cynic would think about our current epidemic of band reunions. He’s having a field day with the Coachella lineup, in which we see the unlikely reunions of punk stalwarts Refused and At The Drive-In, alongside British dandies Pulp and slowcore goddesses Mazzy Star. The cynic would yawn and say that none of these bygone champions of rock could ever recapture their energy circa 1995 at That One Gig in Some Dude’s Living Room.

And we, the optimists, would argue that we don’t WANT these bands to have a 1995 energy. We want these reanimated legends to have a fresh perspective – and whether that means putting out new albums (see recent output from Stone Temple Pilots or Blink-182) or bringing in fresh blood (Sublime with Rome, Smashing Pumpkins), more power to them.

To those who accuse reuniting bands of cash grabs – so what? Don’t go see them in concert, and don’t buy the new records. Lest we forget that musicians are entitled to get paid for their wares, too. Lest we forget that there are plenty of young bucks just getting into, say, the Beach Boys and obviously never got a chance to see them live in the 1960s cos their PARENTS weren’t even born yet.

Because music has never just been about one person. Music is meant to be shared and experienced with the masses of all ages and levels of fandom. So we say keep the reunions coming.

Your move, Talking Heads.

Holy time warp, Batman! This week, not one but two mid-aughts juggernauts with flamboyant front men announced new records for 2012! The above Bloc Party have been working on a followup to 2008’s Intimacy (Wichita) in NYC, despite last year’s alleged hullabaloo in which Kele Okereke was to be replaced. Thank goodness for making amends!

Additionally, Zane Lowe of the BBC landed another Class of 2005 exclusive this week when The Killers’ Brandon Flowers told him his band will have new material out this year. Coincidentally, that group’s last album, Day & Age (Island), was also release in 2008. Steve Lillywhite is slated to produce.

Books! QueenCrab adores them almost as much as music. Nerdy stuff, political stuff, frivolous stuff – it’s all read voraciously. But especially thrilling is when literature and tunes unite. Here are some of our favorite bookish bands:

BELLE & SEBASTIAN

These Glaswegians constantly get pegged with the “twee” title, but what’s so dumbly precious about enjoying the written word? These lads (and lass) are smart, clever and go well with a cup of tea. “Wrapped Up in Books” off 2003’s Dear Catastrophe Waitress (Rough Trade) is the quintessential bookworm homage.

THE DECEMBERISTS

Verbosity is Colin Meloy’s greatest gift to indie rock. Before The Decemberists, had modern kids really known what a palanquin was? You just feel smarter listening to these Portland trailblazers. Our favorite song for this purpose is “The Engine Driver,” (off Picaresque – Kill Rock Stars – which is a term used for satirical novels!) in which Meloy croons, “I am a writer of fiction.” And you’re damn good at it.

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE/BEN GIBBARD

It’s likely no coincidence that Death Cab’s Chris Walla produced the aforementioned scholarly Picaresque album – his own band is named for a crime magazine from the 1950s. The quartet’s whip-smart brand of forlorn poetry comes via singer/songwriter Ben Gibbard’s appreciation for prose. In fact, he teamed up with Jay Farrar (Son Volt) in 2009 for an album inspired by Jack Kerouac’s writings. Far out, man. Hear “California Zephyr” above.

THE BOOKS

They’re called the fooking Books. And yes, they dig their lit, deriving material from Lewis Carroll, among many others. We’re thinking “Classy Penguin” is a nod to publishing house Penguin, known for its reissuing of classic stories.

As this year of musical triumphs (Adele proves sisters are still doing it for themselves!) and tribulations (Zooey and Ben broke up!) comes to a close, we here at BandCrab are compiling a list of our New Year’s resolutions. Music edition.

Listen to music like they did in the “olden days.”
Yes, music will always accompany other activities such as surfing the Internet and jogging (another unrelated resolution…), but whatever happened to just unplugging oneself for 45 minutes, just lying back in a comfy place and really listening to an album? Absorbing every timbre and vibration, pondering lyrics and feeling it wash over you. These days, it’s rare for music to truly get under one’s skin. Let’s let it warm us to the bones. Invite your friends over and crank up the victrola. Or iPod. Whatever works.

Never miss Smashing Pumpkins in concert when they’re in Los Angeles
We found this one out the hard way earlier this year when they played the Wiltern. We’d rested on our laurels, assuming we’d get press passes since QueenCrab was once on the band’s payroll. No dice. So we’d figure we could sit this one out. Until many of our close pals who attended raved that rarities like the aptly named “Pissant” were on the setlist. D’oh!

Which leads to …

Go to more shows as “just a fan”
Being in the music journalism industry, you quickly become accustomed to preferential treatment. Front row at a Green Day concert? Go right ahead. Free tickets to South by Southwest? All yours. But then when something like the Pumpkins scenario happens (which we don’t blame them or their PR team for, no worries), we realize just how NOT special we are. And that puts things in perspective, because after all, we got into this business because WE ARE MUSIC FANS, first and foremost.

So no more expectations. No more procrastinating on purchasing concert tickets because we automatically assume press peeps are gonna hook a sister up. Because the live experience, especially with friends in the cheap seats, is priceless.

Buy directly from the artists as often as possible.
iTunes and Amazon (and those creaky old brick-and-mortar stores) have made shopping for music super convenient and cost-efficient, but the fact remains that the artists see pennies to the dollar on those purchases. (If the songs are purchased at all, you illegal downloading fiends, you!) The best way to support your favorite bands is to buy their stuff off their websites or at shows. We’re all feeling the pinch on our wallets these days, but musicians have had a particularly tough time. Keep ‘em well fed, and they’ll return the favor by rockin’ harder.

Give no-name, emerging and local artists a chance.
Los Angeles is very guilty of this. We have a bajillion venues here that foster local and upcoming talent… but no one ever goes to these shows. It’s sometimes a wonder that native groups like Foster the People ever “made it” with such a difficult audience out here – when every Tom, Dick and Harry is in a band themselves, but no one goes to see one another’s shows. We’re definitely culpable of this atrocity, too, so we’re going to put our money where our mouths are and try to venture out to our friends’ gigs more often.

Also, we’re going to sincerely try to listen to every new sound that cracks through our inboxes. Because the nameless troubadour we toss aside today could be the Conor Oberst of tomorrow, and we’ll be kicking ourselves we didn’t get on board sooner.

What are your musical New Year’s resolutions? Let us know in the comments. Party on, Wayne, and have a great 2012.

Sure, the sanctity of holiday music is pretty much squelched as department stores start busting out this piped-in merriment as early as August. But there’s something undeniably magical about this genre. Even grizzled punks and grumpy old protesters get in on the act. In the spirit of the season, here are the BandCrab top 5 holiday songs:


Mariah Carey – “All I Want For Christmas Is You”
The coquettish diva is at her absolute best here. From the second those chimes start ringing, our hearts dance. One fun holiday tradition is getting a group of friends together to sing this song and dare each other to hit that high note at the end. Laughs aplenty.


Paul McCartney and Wings – “Wonderful Christmastime”
For some reason, this often is voted one of the most reviled holiday tunes. Maybe it’s the incessant New Wave sound effects that makes this the aural version of an ugly sweater. Some like it ironically, but we love it unabashedly. Macca Christmas, everyone!


Adam Sandler – “The Chanukah Song”
As the former “SNL” actor laments, there aren’t too many Chanukah songs out there for modern audiences. But this one takes the cake (latke?). More pop-culture encyclopaedic than a “Weird Al” Yankovic tune, this one never fails to make us giggle. For even more comedy, try Neil Diamond’s all-too literal cartoon version.


Smashing Pumpkins – “Christmastime”
Probably one of the unlikeliest groups to ever release a holiday song – let alone one so warm and fuzzy – the Pumpkins piled on the sentimentality for this one. It always reminds me of that one fateful Christmas I got Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness and listened to it on repeat all day.


Bing Crosby and David Bowie – “Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy”
This song shouldn’t have worked. The man who fell to Earth dueting with Mr. Christmas himself? Talk about an odd couple. But this offbeat mash-up is absolutely spellbinding.