"Our name is really just a bad inside joke," said Johnathan Coody, vocalist, guitarist and songwriter for the Georgia punk-rock band Ninja Gun, which will perform Saturday at The Atlantic, located at 15 N. Main St.
When he's not going to school, Anthony Kavouklis plays late night gigs, poses for CD photo shoots and rubs elbows with blues legends like Buddy Guy. This creates a balancing act for any adult, but Anthony is 12 years old.
Men grow old. Legends live forever. That's a problem for Metallica. Burdened by paradox, the group's mere relevance in 2008 is a testament not to the graying, leather-clad rockers, but to the near-mythic quality of an era gone by. What's now more brand than band was once a pack of pimply twenty-somethings blessed with a terrifically violent combination of speed, volume and, above all, ability. But passing time, foolish decisions and producer Bob Rock, the grim reaper of thrash, all rendered our heroes disposable. Metal doesn't wear well with age. Even "the quartet of deliverance" gets only so many chances to get back on the horse.
Why? is all about asking questions. Ask front man Yoni Wolf why call a band Why? and he'll shoot back, "Why not?"
AVE: So, what are you doing right now?
Pop-punk band Motion City Soundtrack has been funkifying festival scenes since its formation in 1997 and rocking around the world with the likes of Blink 182, Fall Out Boy and Incubus. The band, which is now working on its fourth album following the success of "Commit This to Memory," will perform in Gainesville at the Real Big Deal Festival on Sept. 13. Bassist and back-up vocalist Matthew Taylor talks with the Alligator about the band's future, travel habits and what they love about the festival scene.
Minus one organ and plus one new baby, the husband-and-wife musical team Mates of State return to Gainesville for the first time since March 2006. Known for their organ and drum arrangement and catchy, complex pop harmonies, the indie-rock duo shed their signature organ sound on the new album, "Re-Arrange Us." Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel will be toting the new keyboards and their daughters, Magnolia and new addition June, on the road with them Sept. 13 and 14 to the Real Big Deal Festival at the Alachua County Fairgrounds. Calling from a houseboat in the middle of a lake, Hammel discusses the band's rearrangements, what it's like touring with two young daughters and why America is ready for change.
Crocs, Inc. and 360 Productions are collaborating for the Crocs Next Step Campus Tour, which will be rolling into Gainesville on Sept. 14.
After the merger of their record company Capitol Records and the subsequent release of their new album "Singularity," the members of modern rock group Mae realized something: This isn't working. Despite experiencing severe debt, lack of management and a minor existential crisis, the band set out to find out a new way that did work. Drummer Jacob Marshall talked about the group's upcoming show in Gainesville, its trials with finding management and where it wants to go from here.
Caution: Objects in your rearview mirror are older than they appear.
It was an ordinary day when Three Legged Dawg band member Billy Ray took a walk in his yard. His dog had taken a dump in the grass. To his amazement, a butterfly was perched on the excrement as if to symbolize the triumph of freedom and beauty over ¾ well, crap.
In terms of sheer size, the only thing larger than "…Earth to the Dandy Warhols…" is Courtney Taylor-Taylor's massive ego. It would be irresponsible to credit the growth of said persona to past experience this kind of megalomania you're born with but those once-coveted Seth Cohen playlist adds and the exposure in 1960s revivalist doc Dig! couldn't have helped matters. Having since mistaken Sundance for the Academy and obscurity for fame, Taylor and his Dandy band shed the limitations of their modest guitar rock orientation, and with this latest paralysis-inducing, hour-plus space jam, permanently shoot to hell any lingering pop flirtations in favor of misfired trance drones, none of which will be featured in a K-Swiss commercial. "Earth" is the kind of brazen kiss off you'd expect from a man with two last names.
For those strolling past the dimly lit bar windows of 1982 on a Monday night, be prepared to witness something other than locals watering down their worries. Instead, bystanders might find Gainesville's rock star wannabes imitating the greats on popular music video games such as Rock Band and Guitar Hero.
Their venue burned down in Boone, N.C., They played to a crowd of more than 100. They played to a crowd of less than 10. They were greeted by a shotgun-wielding man in the mountains while attempting to find another venue, a house party thrown by people on house arrest.
A blustery force of innate headwinds faces every incoming freshman at UF, and that's before you count the crappy weather. For starters, there's the budget deficit strangling the liberal arts program (hope you're good at engineering!) and, for those who get hosed by the lottery system, the impossibility of scoring football tickets without selling a kidney. These challenges may seem daunting but manageable with determination and a spare organ.
Feeling the pinch yet? Getting squeezed at the pump? Gouged at the grocery store? Not to worry. While Congress waffles over another round of stimulus checks and Sen. John McCain whets the collective petroleum appetite by dangling a gas tax holiday just out of reach of this nation's penny-pinching fingertips, Nine Inch Nails is actually offering a whiff of wallet-sparing practicality.
"We're from Oakland, Calif., but we love Chicago," was the sentiment echoed by Zach Rogue after his band, Rogue Wave, ended their first song for Lollapalooza 2008. As tens of thousands descended upon Grant Park, it was hard to imagine anyone disagreeing with the statement. Lines were long and seat-saving situations grew tense, even downright nasty as the Chicago sun began to set. But these moments couldn't ruin the eventful and eclectic weekend of music.
Being the son of a famous band member has its perks.
For all those who don't get their nightly fill of Entertainment Tonight, let me recount the story of Miami native and fast food enthusiast Tamien Bain. A self-described "up-and-coming" rapper, Bain penned a Big Mac chant (a la "two all beef patties…") and was one of five finalists contending to replace the sandwich's original jingle by way of an online 40th anniversary contest. Here's the rub: Bain held up a McDonald's when he was 14.
Being the son of a famous band member has its perks.
Solutions by The State News
