Steven Tyler of Aerosmith and Pink hang out during day one of the Coachella Valley Music Festival on April 25, 2008 in Indio, California.
Serj Tankian.
Teagan and Sara.
The Crowd.
Prince.
Prince covering Radiohead’s “Creep”.
M.I.A.
Rilo Kiley.
Kate Nash.
Scars On Broadway.
The Pig.
Duffy.
INDIO, Calif. — “Indie cred” is a shell game, and the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival keeps moving the shells around.
In its ninth year, Coachella — out in Southern California’s desert, 125 miles east of Los Angeles — is the king of the American alternative rock festivals, with attendance of up to 60,000 on each of its three days. (Saturday night was a sell-out; attendance seemed far lighter on Friday and Sunday.) But challengers have been swarming in North America, and three of these festivals have never been seen before: Pemberton, in British Columbia; All Points West in Jersey City; and Outside Lands, in San Francisco. In response Coachella has broadened the rules of its game, booking acts that, the longer you think about them, aren’t indie in the slightest.
Metallica’s next album has been given a release date of October 28 by Amazon.com.
Although the band have no confirmed a schedule for the new record, the online retailer is listing it already.
The release date would follow the band’s headlining appearances at the Reading And Leeds Festivals in August so has some plausibility.
The album, the follow-up to 2003’s ‘St Anger’, will be Metallica’s ninth studio release.
Weezer frontman Rivers Cuomo has revealed that his band’s new single, ‘Pork And Beans’, was inspired by a bust-up with his US record label, DCG, rejecting songs he had originally delivered to them for the band’s forthcoming new album.
Cuomo told Rolling Stone that he was ordered to write catchier songs, so wrote ‘Pork And Beans’ – a song with a deliberately inane theme.
“I came out of it pretty angry,” Cuomo said of the meeting with the label. “But ironically, it inspired me to write another song.”
Lyrics from ‘Pork And Beans’ include, “Everyone likes to dance to a happy song/With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along/Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the chart/ Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art.“
After weeks of attempting to overcome her nerves, “American Idol” finalist Brooke White was eliminated from the show last night (April 30). Four contestants live on after each took on the songs of Neil Diamond this week.
The 24-year-old Mesa, Ariz., native tried to show off her chops on guitar and piano as well as her vocals on Tuesday night, performing Diamond’s “I’m a Believer” and “I Am… I Said.” She joined the Syesha Mercado in the bottom two before being given the axe; Mercado herself has survived several weeks of low votes but lives on as the sole remaining female finalist. David Cook, David Archuleta and Jason Castro also remain.
This round of elimination comes after a night of tumlutuous television on the show, as the producer’s switched up the system on how the judges should deliver their verdict. The changes made for a baffled Paula Abdul, who accidentally critiqued Castro on two songs even though he had only performed one. Each contestant was to perform two songs each, which made for a rushed schedule for the hour-long show.
Diamond and British singer Natasha Bedingfield each performed a song prior to the elimination announcement and White’s tearful goodbye.
Lyrics from whatthefolk.net
I’m the mother flippin’ Rhymenocerous
My beats are fly and the birds are on my back
And I’m horny
I’m horny
If you choose to proceed you will indeed concede
Cos I hit you with my flow
The Wild Rhino Stampede.
I’m not just wild, I’m trained,
Domesticated
I was raised by a rapper and rhino that dated
And subsequently procreated
That’s how it goes
Here’s the Hiphopopotamus
The hip hop hippo
They call me the Hiphopopotamus
My lyrics are bottomless
They call me the Hiphopopotamus
Flows that glow like phosphorous
Poppin’ off the top of this esophagus
Rockin’ this metropolis
I’m not a large water-dwelling mammal
Where did you get that preposterous hypothesis?
Did Steve tell you that, perchance?
Steve.
My rhymes and records they don’t get played
Because my records and rhymes they don’t get made
And if you rap like me you don’t get paid
And if you roll like me you don’t get laid.
My rhymes are so potent that in this small segment
I made all of the ladies in the area pregnant
Yes, sometimes my lyrics are sexist
But you lovely bitches and hoes should know I’m trying to correct this.
Other rappers dis me
Say my rhymes are sissy.
Why? Why? Why?
What?
Why exactly?
What? Why?
Be more constructive with your feedback, please. Why?
Why?
Why, because I rap about reality?
Like me and my grandma drinking a cup of tea?
There ain’t no party like my nanna’s tea party.
Hey! Ho!
I’m the motherflippin’
I’m the motherflippin’
I’m the motherflippin’
Who’s the motherflippin?
I’m the motherflippin’
I’m the motherflippin’
I’m the motherflippin’
Motherflippin’
It is not yet time to stick a fork in Madonna. The grande dame of pop isn’t done just yet.
Pop music is supposed to be a young person’s game, but Madonna, as she’s done so often throughout her quarter-century career, ignores the rules by sounding vital and relevant, even as she approaches her 50th birthday.
“They say that a good thing never lasts, and then it has to fall,” she sings on her new album, “Hard Candy.” “Those are the people that didn’t amount to much at all.”
The 11th studio set of her career — and her last for Warner Bros. Records, the longtime label that she’s leaving for a wide-ranging deal with concert promoter Live Nation — “Hard Candy” is a heady, frisky sugar rush of urban dance-pop come-ons in which Madge finally gets into the hip-hop groove.
“See which flavor you like/And I’ll have it for you,” she coos in album opener, “Candy Shop,” a hooky song driven by a twitchy, syncopated drum pattern. “Come on into my store/I’ve got candy galore.” Advertising herself as “your one-stop candy store,” she purrs: “Sticky and sweet/My sugar is raw.”
The recent Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee has succeeded for so long, with more than 200 million records sold worldwide since 1982, in large measure because she’s always had a knack for identifying interesting trends and adopting them as her own. (Well, that, along with self-promotional genius and sheer personality.)
Though lust is hardly a new addition to the “Sex” author’s repertoire, the sound on “Hard Candy” represents a welcome new twist for Madonna: It’s dance-pop pressed through a hip-hop filter with the help of several urban-music studio heavies — namely Pharrell Williams, Timbaland and Nate “Danja” Hills. (It’s another signature Madonna move, as she’s been collaborating with hot producers since the early days of her career, when she teamed with the likes of Jellybean Benitez and Niles Rodgers.)
Given hip-hop’s long-standing ubiquity, Madonna is arriving late to this particular party, suggesting that she might be slowing down in her advanced age. But even if she’s not starting any new trends in following the lead of Nelly Furtado, Gwen Stefani and such, Madge still manages to sound perfectly at home in the hip-hop world, where her sharp pop sensibilities — particularly her ability to craft killer hooks — are given a mostly fresh rhythmic framework.
If it’s not the boldest move of her career, it’s still a successful gambit from one of the great all-time shape-shifters.
It works best when Madonna isn’t trying to act like she’s down with the hip-hop kids, which just sounds weird. In “Heartbeat,” for instance, over a stuttering beat accented by a cowbell, we find Madonna quasi-rapping the line “see my booty get down” over and over as Pharrell eggs her on: “A little lower, baby.” Awk-ward!
More cowbell, less of Madonna’s booty raps, please. (She should leave that to the pros, as with Kanye West, who cameos on “Beat Goes On.”)
Much better is the album’s lead single, “4 Minutes,” which Madonna co-wrote with Timbaland, Hills and Justin Timberlake, who also makes a vocal cameo. It’s a busy, brassy song propelled by a detonative marching-band beat, and it’s one of the most thrilling things Madonna has done in this decade.
“Give It 2 Me” is also a highlight, a thumping, super-sexualized banger in which Madonna demands “it” over lurching synth stabs and a rump-shaking rhythm. “Don’t stop me now, don’t need to catch my breath/I can go on and on and on,” she sings convincingly. Maybe 50 is the new 25.
And, in fact, it’s easy to forget that Madonna is just months removed from the half-century mark and that Timberlake wasn’t yet 2 years old when her first single, “Everybody,” was released in 1982.
This is not the soundtrack to “The Cougar Den,” though, as Madonna wears her youthful sexuality well, managing to avoid sounding creepy during her multiple come-ons.
Pop music’s Everlasting Gobstopper, she keeps on ticking — and, um, licking — as time and trends march on.
Ok, wtf?!
The feat was broadcast live during The Oprah Winfrey Show and the studio audience cheered as divers pulled the 35-year-old magician from a water-filled sphere.
Blaine looked relaxed afterward and said the record was “a lifelong dream.”
The previous record was 16 minutes and 32 seconds, set Feb. 10 by Switzerland’s Peter Colat, according to Guinness World Records.
Before he entered the sphere, Blaine inhaled pure oxygen through a mask to saturate his blood with oxygen and flush out carbon dioxide.
Guinness says up to 30 minutes of so-called “oxygen hyperventilation” is allowed under its guidelines.
Previously, Blaine was buried alive for a week in a see-through coffin in New York and spent more than a month suspended from a glass box by the River Thames in London.
Here are the song titles for Motley Crue’s new album, Saints of Los Angeles:
01. Mother Fucker Of the Year
02. Down At The Whiskey
03. Saints of Los Angeles
04. Face Down In The Dirt
05. What’s It Gonna Take
06. Chicks = Trouble
07. White Trash Circus
08. The Animal In Me
09. Welcome To The Machine
10. This Ain’t A Love Song
11. Just Another Psycho
Well, in the words of Balki Bartokomou, “paint me green and call me Gumby,” because I don’t even have to make fun of this shit. Those song titles are already a total joke.
Aw, shucks, let’s give it a shot anyway.
I wonder if that’s the right spelling of “Mother Fucker of the Year.” If it is, I’d really like to applaud the Crue for putting some emphasis on the fact that calling someone a “motherfucker” is actually saying that they fuck a mother. Motley Crue fuck a lot of mothers these days, I bet. What I’m saying is I think the song title is totally literal.
“Down at the Whiskey.” Great. You used to hang out at the Whiskey. We know. You and every other band. Blow me.
“Chicks = Trouble.” Okay, hands down, that’s the best song title of any non-country track to be released so far this year. I pray to God that somebody does one of those mash-ups with this song and Slipknot’s “People = Shit.” “Chicks = Shit.” OH PLEASE, GOD, HAVE SOMEBODY DO THAT FOR ME.
“White Trash Circus.” Or, “Christmas at Tommy Lee’s House.” Oh! Rimshot!
By the way, didn’t Bon Jovi already do a song called “This Ain’t a Love Song?”* Holy crap, do you think that Motley Crue might be covering Bon Jovi?!?! AWESOME!!!
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