Funtimes show.

Yes, the Pants show was amazing. Yes, you should be sorry if you missed it. Yes, they were as good as I remember. Maybe better.

Cheers to everyone who helped make Saturday one of the finest local rock shows ever. Especially to The Pants themselves. Pistol, Hutch, Tom and Neil: you make lovin' fun.

That said, I think I need to call some old, non-Burlingtonian friends. We could maybe talk about stuff besides music. Lord knows, I could benefit from the different perspective.
It sucks to be surrounded by people but feeling lonely. That's my B-town conundrum. Thank God for Brooke; the sanest, most ethical and supportive person on earth!

Overkill? Nah.

This will probably be my last Pants-related post until after the show.

And it's by request; some folks expressed a desire to actually hear the band before the concert. What, my word ain't good enough?

Anyway, here's a handfull of choice cuts. Keep in mind that it's kind of like choosing my favorite flavor of soy ice cream — I like 'em all!

"Sometimes" Eat Crow, 1997

"Lawnfire" Fred Sex, 1995

"Them Stones" Eat Crow

"Lucky In the Sun" Eat Crow 

"None of That" The Pants!, 1994

 

Excitement brewing.

Can one actually brew excitement? I dunno. I imagine the fermentation process would ruin everything. Pontiac claims to build it, but that's altogether different.

Hey — The Pants!

What once felt like some bizarro fantasy is almost upon us. I've been chatting with band members, old friends and fans, and I think everyone is starting to get hot 'n' bothered.

Listening to all the old records has brought up a range of partially submerged emotions. Can't imagine what this process is like for the fellas in the group.

Above all, The Pants wrote great tunes and played them with class and conviction. Their stuff was often sophisticated, but it always rocked. It was smart, but never precocious. And what fine humor!

Buy your tickets. It'll be worth it.

PS: It's been brought to my attention that nearly a decade ago, some freelance reviewer at Seven Days wrote a shit review of The Pants' swansong, Eat Crow. This individual was obviously deranged.

Mini dump.

Murf at False 45th has nominated the Jazz Guys for a "Best music of '06" podcast.

Go here to investigate further.

As promised in this week's Soundbites column, here's the Smittens' new video.

See ya when I get my head out of my Pants.

Watch Michael melt.

Looks familiar.

Hmm... Pistol's axe?

Looks like Schoolbus has been doodlin' again.

Oh, and AIC ain't playin'. More in next week's paper.

Go see The Books and Greg Davis tonight at HG.

Off to do laundry!

Connect-the-dots.

I've got a birthday coming up!

When we go to CA, we'll be driving up to San Francisco from L.A. We're thinking of stopping by Hearst Castle, which inspired the "Xanadu" compound in Citizen Kane.

In that spirit, check out "The Fall of the House of Usher: Prelude" From The Alan Parsons Project's ridiculous Edgar Alan Poe-themed album.

Orson Welles is on it!

Record stores.

It's gotten more rare that I stop by my local indie record store, Pure Pop. Makes me feel kinda bad.

It's part laziness, part the fact that I already have too much music as it is. And eMusic/iTunes pretty much fills in a lot of blanks. Convenience kills!

But I'm actually psyched to check out Aquarius Records in San Francisco. Brooke and I will be in California at the end of June, and AQ is definitely gonna be one of our stops.

One of my favorite things to do every other week is to spend Saturday morning going through their new release list and listening to samples. I've found a lot of music that way, even when I was working at the Pop.

The AQ kids (well, they're mostly my age) are almost like rock stars to me. I'll tremble in the presence of Black Metal Andee, I'm sure.

Sucks that I'm probably going to be kind of broke, or else I'd buy a bunch of stuff. Maybe it's better that way.

Letting go.

On Tuesday, February 28, 2006, I was told that the 3" of Soft Rock was about to be pressed. I know the date, because I blogged it. It was already months past its initial "release date," and nearly two years old.

Then, couple of weeks later, it was gonna happen the following week. And so forth.

May 9. Still waiting. Maybe we should start a letter campaign, like for that Fiona Apple record.

Actually, I think I might just move on to a new batch of music and throw these tracks in the lake. Which is right by my house.

But it will live on in my mind...

...And in the form of an ancient curse.

Are you a winner?

Answer these three questions and you might be on your way to see The Pants for free!

Nostalgia Trip Part III: Grave spinning.

So, I found out earlier in the week that a reunited Alice in Chains might be making an appearance at Club Metronome, of all places. Today it was confirmed.

Wait, you say: Didn't they find AIC frontman Layne Staley's partially decomposed body in his Seattle condo back in 2002?

Indeed, they did.

But after coming together to play an Asian Tsunami benefit and a Dimebag Darrell tribute concert, surviving members decided it just felt too damn good to stop.

I think it's more than a little silly for them to carry on. Like 'em or not, you have to admit that Staley was the most important member. Without his peculiar, necromantic croon, AIC would've been just another hair band with slightly heavier riffs.

Guitarist Jerry Cantrell claims they're doing it in tribute to their fallen comrade. They also want to bring the tunes to audiences that missed them the first time around.

I saw them in '91. Thought they sucked. Staley looked pretty rough even then, like a stiff wind might snap him in half.

Still, I admit to rocking out to Dirt on occasion, particularly "Them Bones," which I think has aged fairly well.

Fuck it, I'm going.

The band will play a couple of their tunes on a VH1 Classic "Tribute to Heart," which airs tonight.

In addition to their barely-known new singer, Phil Anselmo (ex-Pantera) will guest. He's kept a pretty low profile since Dime's onstage murder. I hear he's into the hard stuff, too.

Man, this is becoming a dirtbag metal forum!

Oh, check out a shitty bootleg of Tool's Maynard James Keenan sitting in on "Them Bones."

And "Man in the Box."

Holy awesome shit!

Didn't think I'd squeeze in another post today, but this is WAY too good.

Arthur Magazine — the freaky deeky San Francisco-based music rag — recently interviewed Sully from Boston dude-rockers Godsmack. It's about the use of the band's music in military recruitment ads. Be sure to read it all the way through.

Here ya go.

PS: Godsmack's latest crapsterpiece debuted at #1. Who the fuck is buying records in this country, anyway?

Nostalgia Trip Part II: Early-onset Alzheimer's.

Babe in Toyland.

I miss being young, fearless and lysergic.

Let's step back in time, shall we? The year was 1992, and the music world seemed primed to explode.

Well, maybe it was just the drugs.

A day or so ago, I was watching a metal-themed countdown on VH1 Classic. The program was hosted by Skid Row's Sebastian Bach, whose continued enthusiasm for the genre never fails to amaze me. Apparently, Skid have moved on without him. Look for 'em at your local VFW hall!

Featured in the countdown was White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65." Not feeling it? Drop more acid, pierce something, and give another listen.

It made me recall the days before the '90s rockers became washed-out caricatures of themselves. Not that Rob Zombie wasn't always a caricature. It's just that he was cooler back then.

I'm happy to discover that WZ's bass-slingin', motor-fueled goth sweetheart Sean Yseult is still playing.

I promise I'll get off the nostalgia trip soon. 

Maybe.

Reptile Rock.

You guys know about Snakes on a Plane, right?

A quick breakdown:

Samuel L. Jackson is starring in a movie in which terrorists unleash — you guessed it — snakes on a plane. It caused a sensation in blogland when an L.A. script doctor documented the flick's curious birth.

From there, it became an underground sensation, with copious fan-made trailers, merch and what-have you.

New Line Cinema, who had considered changing the title of the film to Pacific Air 121, decided to embrace the phenomenon. Fans have even managed to get a line in the script. Reportedly,  Jackson actually says, "I've had enough of these motherfuckin' snakes on this motherfuckin' plane!"

Now the studio is hosting a contest in which the best SOAP-inspired, fan-created tune will be played over the movie's end credits.

Hey, I should get on that!

An associate of mine — Dusted's Micheal Cramer — has already turned in his composition.

You can vote for it here.