Seriously, we’re about to release the All Things Must Pass of comedy albums, and we have 921 friends on MySpace. Please change this.

In other news, Biohazard have reformed.

Being a music writer, I must thank Gerard Cosloy for introducing me to the New New New Journalism:

(Warning: Adult Content)

sammy hagar and the clear channel soul mafia…

Reply to: A PERSON ON CRAIGSLIST
Date: 2008-03-22, 4:41PM CDT  

…livin’ it up. tell us sammy, how much do you make…inside?banana sammy, psuedoiconic in a canary yellow, sleeve rolled, collar trimmed, 80s ass clowned t shirt that reads “sweat science everlast” with matching yellow capri man pants. he’s got a nicely contrasted st. louis cardinals baseball jersey with his name above the numbers 5 and 5; they are, after all, playing in st. louis. and to a crowd - a wonderfully accurate prediction of a sammy hagar crowd, pause, *envision* and yeah, you got it - now growing anxious for a tune they’ve had drilled into their collective heads over the past 6 years of clear channel domination. sammy is unflinching and full on conceptual rockstar, literally living it up - making the most of it…well the most money of it anyway.flaming bass player michael anthony (no really, his bass has flames on it) from Van Halen, was apparently playing the second half of the show. he was already on by the time i tuned in, so please forgive my hagar experienced judgements without having watched the entirety of the program. victor johnson is playing guitar as well as being the only black person on stage and in the house, which creates an unspoken dynamic. he also played the only guitar on a piano-to-guitar transposition of that van halen song “right now”, no fill all thrill baby. in addition to bass and guitar is a drummer, david lauser (do you believe in the power of names?) and a few “here’s something for you to do too”, party-going friends / percussionists, of whom i did not catch the name. collectively known as the waboritas.

ah the nuances…if i can recall correctly from memory, although my awakened roommate who was no doubt subconsciously stirred by the red rocker (thanks clear channel) just reminded me that it’ll air again, and again, and again…so let’s see, how about the guy in the crowd rolling his “get on with it” hands and forearms during one of sammy’s uncomfortable, two minute stand up comedy bits, or money man sammy stealing time to autograph his on stage loot (which will soon be tossed freely to the adorners and made into offerings for gods of ebay). but particularly notice the look on vic johnson’s colored face when hagar took the hat off vic’s bald head (clearly without permission), as if hagar had just smacked vic’s icecream cone to the ground. perhaps he had contractual permission, on stage ownership rights to said hat redeemable at any faltered moment of rockstar stoicism at the expense of course, to vic’s ego (not a big deal, really, because of some fine line between showmanship and music that i don’t have figured out, at all). back to the unspoken dynamic.

i don’t want to say i know the chemistry between the band and it’s relationships, but i heard it in vic johnson’s guitar solo.

at some point in the latter third of the show, sammy began leading a cued up group of arrhythmic, lens lusting, tourists(?), around the stage in a conga-line-marching fashion, and vic went to the guitar solo darkside. appropriately dissonant, he so beautifully wove desparity and transgression with sleying hooks, threading a sold soul on a boxed, minor pentatonic loom. like eddie hazel crying out for his lost mother on maggot brain in 1971. we felt it vic, we hear what you’re playing. we hear moments of the improvisational void filled with pleas of phonic redemption. it’s not a race thing at all. it’s a sold soul thing. it’s a money thing.

sammy works the crowd the whole time, and to his credit he can sing his songs pretty much just like he used to. also, i have to mention that when he picked up a guitar, he played with a good sense of rhythm and it really helped fill the sound out. which, to me his songs need a whole lot more of than concert reverb vocals and proclamations of rock-ness, but whatevs. the congo line has now amassed hot ladies in bikini’s and the whole place is alive with monkeydom. people who were once standing still wondering whether or not tomorrow is carwash day are now “filled with the spirit to move” and begin to dance, violently awkward, to the music they’ve been given. music they’ve been fed. force fed through repetition, and constant reminders suggesting that there’s no need to seek new music or to let your personality grow.

at the end of the concert, sammy says: “i know what they’re gonna say…what in the hell happened to that guy?”, he pauses, “you know what happened…”, says hagar “…see you in Cabo.”

next thing i know credits roll and then i see a flash of a 30 second commercial for a show about an untraceable website, murder, press conferences, torture and accomplices and now i’ve become distracted from my angst of forced and distasteful art. each lame memory of sammy hagar fading onto the previous into a concatenated thought of shit.

some folks get it and some folks don’t. i don’t get it. but i know that what is mine i can never lose, and what isn’t mine i can’t ever have. buy, sell or trade.

i believe art is magic, and if you apply force, magic turns black. clear channel et. al. are forcing magic - and the magic’s turned black in the name of money for you guys sammy. grow on your bones, look for yourself, then come back and tell me what you have learned.

nate aka natedog aka nasty nate aka nater aka aka nathan aka stickwithit aka bigmac aka the cat aka emcee kenzie aka blitzsizzle aka jive turkey aka doo doo brown aka finesse mckenzie aka player aka favorite irishman aka pissing bandit aka rag arm aka alien aka titties in mah face!

post script:

it’s 5:45am. i finished recapping the pultec eqp1a hours ago and it sounds great now. i’m ranting deliriously, inspired by sammy hagar. running on reserve battery power…this is for the starving artists selling glimpses of their souls. we’ll catch it up close sometime not in hd. i love you all.