Nobody plays the blues as well as Eric Clapton without experiencing them. Now out in paperback, the blues legend’s autobiography provides a nice bit of insight into his life and the events that have shaped it. Clapton tells his story in an easygoing, direct manner. Anyone looking for a classic rock tell-all or a compendium on the ins-and-outs of Clapton’s music will be sorely disappointed. Given the amount of time he spends on those topics, it’s not a subject that seems to interest him. Rather, Clapton tells a briskly paced story. With the exception of his battle with alcoholism, a subject that occupies a large portion of the tale and incorporates the tragedy of his infant son Conor's death, Clapton doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on any one topic. He dedicates only a handful of pages to The Yardbirds and Cream era and even less to Blind Faith.Depending on your level of Clapton devotion, the factual nuggets and anecdotes about the origin of the “Slow Hand” nickname, the “Clapton Is God” phenomena, the story behind “Wonderful Tonight” (it wasn’t exactly meant as a love song) and how his wedding to Pattie Boyd nearly reunited The Beatles will have varying affect. In amiably discussing his relationship with Boyd, the inspiration for Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, and its effect on his relationship with George Harrison, he doesn’t guild any lilies but he also doesn’t step into the confessional and bare his soul. Despite the lack of depth, Clapton proves himself an effective storyteller, succinct, honest and to the point
With the exception of the epilogue in which he discusses the bluesmen whose music had a profound influence on his playing and his life, Clapton is about the guitarist’s life apart from his music. In fact, he hardly discusses his playing other than casual mentions that he knows he’s kind of a big deal. While he discusses his influences and mentions some details about the recording sessions, Clapton doesn’t provide a dissertation on his view of rock and roll like Bob Dylan did in Chronicles: Volume 1. Given his surprising preference for being a sideman, his reluctance to gush effusively is very much in character.
As with any classic rock icon, there’s a wide gap between the myths and legends that surround them and the actual facts. Without acknowledging too many of them, Clapton does a fine job debunking many of those wild stories simply by relating the true one. In relating his life’s story, Clapton is unflinching about his own mistakes and how they affected others. It may not be the definitive narrative on the last forty years of rock and roll but it is an extraordinarily fascinating read and make the blues Clapton has played for years that much more genuine.
For the last couple years, the New York based four-piece Licorice has prowled the Manhattan concert halls and jazz clubs working their magic at clubs like The Knitting Factory and the legendary Blue Note. Until recently, the only way to listen to Licorice in your homes was to download the rare show from the Live Music Archives or selected tracks from their Web site. With A Million Grains Of Sand, their debut EP, David Lott (guitars), Chad Dinzes (keyboards), Matt Epstein (bass) and Josh Bloom (drums) have emerged from the studio with a finely crafted disc that should whet appetites for a larger taste.
In some etiquette book that no one has ever really read, there’s apparently a clause that says white after Labor Day is a fashion faux pas non pareil. Hailing from Austin, Texas, the T-shirt and jeans clad James Petralli, Steve Terebecki and Joshua Block don’t appear to have any use for such nonsense and are well on their way to making 
The original lineup of Jane's Addiction - Perry Farrell, Dave Navarro, Eric Avery and Stephen Perkins - played their first proper show together in 17 years at La Cita Bar in Los Angeles. One of the great bands from the alternative rock days where college radio was a bastion for unheard artists, the excitement over a Jane's Addiction reunion can't even be diminished by memories of The Panic Channel, Satellite Party or Navarro's whoring of himself to the Rock Star reality franchise.
In March of 2007, right on the heels of a tour in support of 
With a new album comes the customary tour and in that vein, The Secret Machines 2.0 headlined an early evening show this past Saturday night at New York City’s Webster Hall. Playing under a post-modern Sukkoh made of white ribbons, Garza, Curtis and Karnats cranked out a variety of industrial beats, masterfully locking into a rhythm and using the freedom of the live setting to work wonders with the repetition. Playing with sticks the size of pool cues, Garza brings to mind the old school baseball players who swung bats the size of tree trunks while he wails away on the drums with a precision and efficiency that remains startling. One of the most authoritative drummers, Garza is a show unto himself and plays with such power that it’s quite possible he doesn’t need to mike his drum kit. On record and on stage, his interaction with Curtis is the lifeblood of the Machines. Curtis’ keys provide the soaring highs with and oftentimes give the Machines a cool little 80s vibe. On bass, he synchs up with Garza and plays a churning bass that sounds almost mechanical. Never a grand singer, Curtis usually delivers his vocals in a dispassionate yet compelling manner. At the beginning of “Nowhere Again” he sounded bored but on “Atomic Heels” and “Lightning Blue Eyes” he hit the perfect blend of sardonic commentary and fiery emotion.
It wasn’t that long ago that a multitude of people jumped on the Cold War Kids bandwagon with even more climbing on after the release of Robbers & Cowards, which culled the best of the band’s past EPs onto one brilliant release. On the aptly named Loyalty To Loyalty, the Kids are separating the wheat of their true fans from the chaff of the fair weather variety. The Kids surely aren’t abandoning their idiosyncratic artsy-Bauhaus, saloon hall style, but for significant stretches of Loyalty, most notably on “Avalanche In B,” Nathan Willett’s unguarded vocals sound too much like an aging Bavarian whore moaning about the past in a decrepit cabaret. It’s enough to draw concern that there may be more to “Something Is Not Right With Me” than meets the eye. Fear not though: as they proved last week at New York City’s Webster Hall and Brooklyn’s Music Hall of Williamsburg, there’s nothing wrong. In fact, to borrow an overused phrase, the Cold War Kids are quite alright.
Southern singer-songwriter AA Bondy opened both shows and at Webster Hall had the unenviable task of playing to a crowd more interested in themselves than the fine music emanating from the stage. A true shame; from the opening harmonica blast of “Witness Blues,” Bondy cast the pearls of his American Hearts album before proverbial swine. That a crowd purportedly knowledgeable enough to be at a Cold War Kids show couldn’t be bothered to collectively stifle themselves for Bondy’s set belied the poseur culture that permeates all too many shows. Counteracting the talkative crowd, Bondy incorporated drums and an extra guitar to add muscle and sinew to the framework of songs like “Vice Rag” and “American Hearts” before tearing through a potent version of “I Killed Myself When I Was Young.”
Now if you feel that you can't go on
Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel paired up for an All-Star benefit at the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City to support Barack Obama. In addition to an appearance from the candidate himself - who told the crowd to ignore the high poll numbers, reminding them, "Don’t underestimate the power of Democrats to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory" - Billy & The Boss teamed up on each other's songs, trading verses on "Allentown" and "Glory Days" and dedicating "Movin' Out" to Messrs. Bush and Cheney. With all of the high-profile fundraisers for Obama, Garry Trudeau's joke about no musicians offering to perform for John McCain becomes less funny with each passing benefit.
The spirit of John Lennon floats over Delta Spirit’s Ode To Sunshine. You can sense the Beatle in Sean Walker’s strident guitar playing on “Parade,” in Kelly Winrich’s rollicking saloon-hall keyboards and in the hope and optimism amid the trenchant unflinching observations of “People, Turn Around.” Dripping with naked soul, lead singer Matthew Vasquez conveys just as much with his voice and delivery as he does with the lyrics, supplying the bright enthusiasm to “Ode To Sunshine” and the pathos to “Tomorrow Goes Away,” the sweet lullaby that opens the album.
As the first anniversary of the release of In Rainbows and its revolutionary whatever-you-feel-like pricing system approaches, publisher 
Other than the fact that they are two young bands worth listening to, you might be hard pressed to find two more dissimilar bands to share a bill than 
At this years South By Southwest Festival, Dead Confederate was one of the bands I looked the most forward to catching. After seeing them in the slot before R.E.M. at Stubb’s Ampitheatre, I left feeling that I hadn’t seen them in the proper venue. After their set at the intimate Mercury Lounge, my initial reaction proved correct. There’s a distinct grunge era flavor to much of what Dead Confederate does: “Heavy Petting,” complete with tortured animal wails from Morris, keeps Nirvana’s embattled soul alive and “Shadow The Walls” ebbs and flows like the best Pearl Jam songs. It seems odd that we are distant enough from the Nineties that slapping the grunge tag on Dead Confederate seems like an unfair label from a bygone era. Lead singer Hardy Morris mines the peaks and valleys much in the same way that gained Kurt Cobain renown and his ability to erupt in a powerful miasma of emotion, as he did on “The Rat” and “Get Out” while the music swirls rapidly around him, does bring that vintage Seattle band to mind. On lengthy meditations like “Tortured Artist Saint,” the near-psychedelic wall of sound created by Morris, guitarist Walker Howle, bassist Brantley Senn, keyboardist John Watkins and drummer Jason Scarboro threatened to overwhelm the modestly sized Mercury Lounge. Not to worry though: Howle’s plaintive guitar wail and Scarboro’s penchant for inserting a James Brown style drumbeat whenever the music threatened to get too trippy, the lengthy instrumental passages, tinctured with industrialized Pink Floyd, proved utterly hypnotic.
George W. Bush always used to call himself a uniter but it was Democratic nominee Barack Obama that served as the catalyst for The Allman Brothers Band and The Dead to join together for the Change Rocks fundraiser this past Monday at Penn State University. Although crossover potential was huge, the two jamband icons stayed on their respective sides of a reference-filled videotaped address from Obama (once elected, he reportedly "ain't wasting time no more") with the exception of Warren Haynes, who played full sets with both bands.
Okkervil River’s Will Sheff isn’t impressed with perfection. Much like Wes Anderson’s cinematic explorations of the flawed beauty of the insecure personality, the Austin-based singer-songwriter writes literate songs from the point of view of the distinctly non-Alpha male (and female) as well as those with a distinctly “Positively 4th Street” edge to them. Singing in an imperfect voice, Sheff doesn’t hide much when he’s on stage. Wearing his emotions on the sleeve of his natty attire, Sheff’s unreserved performance was the most memorable part of Okkervil River’s return to New York City for two shows at Webster Hall.
Who says there isn't truth in advertising. After talking big about giving everyone (except Slash) a free Dr Pepper if Guns N' Roses released Chinese Democracy before the end of 2008, the bottler is intending to make good on their promise. With the announcement that the new GnR album will be available at Best Buy on November 23rd, Dr Pepper is putting soda on ice just in case Axl Rose actually makes good on delivering the long awaited album.
Van Morrison will be caught one more time on Cyprus Avenue. To commemorate the 40th anniversary of Astral Weeks, Morrison will play his seminal album in its entirety on November 7th and 8th at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, CA. Known for its jazzy mysticism and mercurial lyrics, Astral Weeks continually appears on credible Greatest Album lists and given the lackluster appeal of Morrison's recent setlists and marked reluctance to play songs from his back catalog, fans of Van The Man have much reason to rejoice.
There’s a flip side to seeing a great band in their early stages: for as great a thrill it can be to see them grow, build confidence and broaden their fan base with every show, it’s frustrating when the genius and talent you see isn’t catching on worldwide with the same viral rapidity that propels vacant, untalented pop stars to the upper echelons of notoriety. For all the fond remembrances people have of Phish’s early days, it’s often forgotten that it took them almost a decade before the H.O.R.D.E. tour propelled them on to headlining amphitheaters. 
Throughout history
When you’ve grown accustomed to playing lengthy shows in the middle of New York City’s Washington Square Park, where do you go to celebrate the release of your new live album? If you’re New Jersey based BuzzUniverse, you move from land and take to the sea – or in this case, the nearest river. With LiveVibes From The Donegal Saloon hot off the presses, BuzzUniverse commemorated the occasion with a sold-out show on the Half Moon cruise ship. With the weather not quite cooperating, BuzzU rolled with the waves that pelted the ship and, along with Leroy Justice, took the crowd on a three hour tour much more enjoyable and way more predictable than the one shepherded by Gilligan.
For bands that spend a lot of time the road, the release of a new studio album usually fails to generate high levels of excitement. The loyal fan base is already familiar with many of the songs, having heard them in concert; for others, the mantra of “you have to see them live” isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for any new record. With Raise Up The Tent, San Francisco based 
On October 16, Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel will headline a benefit concert for Barack Obama at New York City's Hammerstein Ballroom. Tickets will range from $500 for the balcony to $2,500 for the floor and $10,000 for the lounge, which better include a handshake from Billy Joel, a high five from The Boss and a cabinet position from the Candidate. On the other hand, perhaps the proceeds will serve as a substitute for the failed Bailout Bill.
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