WMC Miami Week

So here I sit in a beautiful, lizard-friendly cabana, poolside at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Ft. Lauderdale. It's in the low eighties, and we're watching music videos of Elvis' last Vegas performances. These cabanas, I've been told, go for about a buck-fifty for half a day, and are equipped with roving cameras and (our Brazilian waitress told us later) infrared. But we're camped out here for nothin' but our $95 tab for a few saw-off-my-right-leg drinks and the watermelon slices that are juicing their way down my chin at present. Oops, mind the MacBook.

This fortuitous rock star treatment has been complements of some friends I've been staying with in Giana Beach, just north of Hollywood (not L.A.) and west of North Beach (not S.F.):

the exuberant, hype-sparking manager of my fellow restaurantier RossmanZ (aka DJ Throdown) and his lovely multi-lingual girlfriend Mary who has made every morning bearable with her scrambled eggs, biscuits, and coffee. It's been a nutcase journey out here. It was trying, tying up loose ends in my own life and unloading from car to just north of Logan Circle just two days before my 8 am flight out of DC, with a grand total of maybe eight hours of sleep over the course of five days. But a couple hours after landing, I was soaking in some Florida sun and scribbling in a fresh journal I picked up at the airport. Success! One pseudo-diary entry and two false beginnings later, a green Hondo whipped up to the curb, and the whole thing blasted into action.

We got to the Eden Roc hotel ten minutes late for registration--hurry up and wait.

Our crew, headed up by T's manager Dale and threaded in T-shirts advertising his company, CBT VIP (Club Bottles and Tables) were throwing down hard for our boy in his furry Dr. Seuss hat and alien Jackie O shades despite the awkward, fully-lit and fully-sober atmosphere. Not to say there wasn't love, but Miami just couldn't handle the DC heat we speak! (Local love moment, excuse).

John Q even got to thro down onstage in between sets, beat boxing his pretty little heart out, blowing everyone’s mind, and sparing the technicians even more awkwardness as they sorted out the myriad problems they were having with the equipment.

But without a doubt, the most rewarding performance was from a Canadian named DJ Creative. DJ Creative has skills, but you gotta wait for it. Wait for it? Wait...for...it!! And listen up, 'cause he's about to drop some mad shit. And check this sweet turnaround he's gonna do in the middle of his scratch! This man was a fearless warrior of the workings, adept at the apparatus.

The MTV reality crew, who were there to catch the goings-on as seen by Playboy’s 50^th Anniversary Playmate of the Year, Ms. Colleen Shannon, shot Q’s impromptu exhibition with DJ Blondie (points f

or originality). We would get to know these toe-headed specimens rather well over the course of the week.

Our first fluke run-in occurred at the door of Mansion, where theywanted $50 a head for our entry. We all started pulling on our invisible neckties as our ride pulled away. We’d all been saving money for the trip, but…gawd! For a split second, I missed my D.C. existence where a passing acquaintance or affable stranger would pull me into an unforeseeable adventure. Then—BOOM—John Q spotted the camera crews buzzing around a very petite and femininely robust bleach-blonde and jumped on the net

working gravy train. We followed their crew, which consisted of Ms. Work Done, her highly original friend, her Seacrestian tool of a boyfriend (as seen standing behind Rossman in the photo above), and their exquisitely irritating gay producer with the Mexi-hawk, to a bar just a block away called Twist. We followed them up the stairs, the bouncy blondes in their obligatory pink-and-turquoise spandex ensembles, and me in silver leggings and see-thru lace tank.

The cameraman was close behind me as I negotiated the stairs in leggings attached to my four-inch, red “fuck-me”heels. So…assuming their little reality show is indeed aired on MTV this summer, I guess you can say my ass is famous. We all took fruity shots and flipped our hair for the camera, then danced to Lady Gaga as DJ’ed by what looked like Scott Thompson in drag. A worthy use of a random evening, to be sure.

Spring Break WOOOooo!

I just found out that I will be in Miami next week, covering the Winter Music Conference. This is exciting on several levels. Not only does the poor author desperately need a break from anything involving more clothes than a bikini, but it will give me a chance to flex my journalistic muscles, and charm my way around the nooks and crannies.

Oh yeah, and there will be good music too.

Observe.

Hype Machine Picks This Week

Active Child.

One dude from L.A.!!

Full layering!!

Eighties-choral vocals!!

Vintage synth settings!!

New album--She Was a Vision 7"

Yummy.

http://www.myspace.com/activechild

Valentine's Violence

Oh goodness, goodness, it's been forever since the last great concert that took place at the Ottobar in Baltimore on that holiest of crap holidays, Valentine's Day, but good music never dies and the hype lives on forever, so the flagellation stops here.

Strike Anywhere has been around forever, so of course I'm just finding out that I dig their tunes and their philosophy. Anyone who keeps a healthy spirit of discontent and refusal to settle for the status quo is godlike in my book. I have to give it to them for their willingness to revel in their own contradictions: a hardcore band out of "redneck" Virginia, led by a dread-whipping lead singer (who yes, can actually carry a badass tune as well as rip some vocal cords) with the usual two-minute fury of drumsticks and flailing bodies but with carefully punctuated changes and even harmonies without that super-saturation you find in pop-punk (shudder). But not to overstate my case, here are some pictures and a very telling quote from their FAQ page on their website, describing their tour experience.

As a band, we have no uniform, no party line . We tend to revel in the contradictions and humanity of these ideas, living them on a scale where we still travel, play shows in a variety of venues, using many different operating methods, kind of on a case-by-case basis. And at the end of a tour, you know, we go back to a relatively safe place where we can live with our little families; groups of hometown friends, significant others who hold it down for us - where we dig into working shitty jobs, writing music, participating when we can in direct action, contributing music and time to benefits for causes we believe in. We try and push the ideas beyond the two minute hardcore song into the world beyond counterculture - rescuing animals, and just trying to be decent to friends and strangers. . . .But we risk so little in comparison to so many . Therefore, Its so disarming and pure to see a community engaged fully, risking everything in defense of ideas, justice and joy against a state apparatus where you can just disappear if you make too much trouble. ( So if the cops don't get you, the nazis will - and if the nazis don't get you , the police will, and if you are alive by the afternoon and no one's chasing you, you CHOOSE to come to our show, set up a table full of subversive, inspiring literature and ... protect us ( a punk band from Virginia, U.S.A. ) from these enemies of your everyday existence ...? My mind was blown by so many things on this tour . )
The men and women in Minsk and here in Moscow were living this everyday, not just through art and theory, but with the sustained courage and discipline that shone like the Winter Sun behind their eyes.

Maynard Man

Remember this guy?

Maynard’s Mind When he’s not singing for Tool and A Perfect Circle or tending to his secluded Arizona winery, Maynard James Keenan is focused on Puscifer, a musical project self-described as his “island of misfit ideas.” Puscifer’s sound is a bit more downtempo and ambient compared to his other bands, and we imagine that his live shows will be a wickedly warped voyage. Join in on Maynard’s party at Lincoln Theatre this March. PUSCIFER featuring Maynard James Keenan from Tool and A Perfect Circle w/ Uncle Scratch's Gospel Revival @ Lincoln Theatre • Washington, D.C. Friday, March 5 & Saturday, March 6 7pm Doors for both nights. On Sale Friday, January 22 at 10am click here to purchase F 3/5 tickets click here to purchase Sa 3/6 tickets

Something Completely Different...

This just popped up on my Gmail, and I sort of can't believe it's not in a Kurt Vonnegut novel or something: Holiday Inn Offers Human Bed-Warming Service

I wonder if you can hand-pick your bed-warmer for that evening, based on body mass and proportional emitted heat, etc. Otherwise it would be a waste, obviously.

What Everyone Else is Blogging About

The new Vampire Weekend album, Contra is stirring up a lot of talk because it is, in the well-thought opinion of many, f--ing awesome. Though the polyphonic polyrhythms and reverb-heavy vocals on top of playful synth and samples is very Animal Collective-esque, (and familiar or predictable only in that comparison), the songs on this sophomore album are anything but sophomoric. Pretty impressive the Columbia graduates landed movie gigs (Stepbrothers and Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist) just two years after their inception in 2006. And the fact that they didn't go suddenly devoid of originality or creativity after first spark of fame is hopeful. It is Vampire Weekend who will be bringing us our Audiogasm of the Moment, "Holiday."