Goin' to a Go Go

The Whisky A Go-Go. The gold standard when it comes to the L.A. rock and roll scene. One might even say the standard for the national rock and roll scene. Allow me to quote from the Whisky's own website:

"As long as there has been a Los Angeles rock scene, there has been the Whisky A Go-Go. An anchor on the Sunset Strip since it's opening in 1964, the Whisky A Go-Go has played host to rock 'n' roll's most important bands, from the Doors, Janis Joplin, and Led Zeppelin to today's up and coming new artists."

So, if the Whisky plays host to today's up and coming artists, then apparently, according to the upcoming schedule, today's up and coming artists are largely made up of nothing more than cover bands of rock and roll's most important bands. Wait...the up and coming artists that first made the Whisky famous for being cutting edge are now being covered by bands that that very institution might call "today's up and coming artists"? Is this a time/space chicken and egg thing? Did the Earth just stop spinning on its axis? Is a vortex going to open in the heart of West Hollywood and swallow all of Los Angeles? Well, if the upcoming acts at the Whisky are any indication, let's hope so.



First of all, which one of these geniuses came up with the name, do you think? Gotta be the guy playing the part of Robert Plant, right? Right out front sporting that red velvet smoking jacket and the permed-out golden locks. I can't imagine his ego letting "John Paul Jones" decide whether or not their backstage pimento cheese sandwiches should be on white or wheat ... much less have a say in something as important as naming the freaking band. Nice job, Mr. "Plant." My 7 year-old daughter is in awe of your pun mastery. Meanwhile Jimmy Page is rolling over in his grave. (Yeah, you say he's not dead. I say he just hasn't heard of these douchebags yet.)



A Jim Morrison Celebration! Being celebrated by a small gathering of shirtless, facial-haired homos, it would seem. "Ladies and gentlemen, playing the part of Ray Manzarek, Two-Tone, 'Handlebar' Steve Anderson! As Robbie Krieger, fresh from a 20-year stint in Branson, Missouri, Mr. Yakov Smirnov! Give it up! And lastly, you might know him as John Densmore, but to us he'll always be ... hang on a second ... who the hell's THAT guy? The one with the girly hair and the loose-fitting wife beater! What? The brother of the sound guy?? My God, where did my life go so wrong?"



Come on. Honestly. Rush has a cover band? I'd be willing to bet you could probably book the real thing for less money. It's not like Geddy Lee is committed to the Grammy's. Or even an appearance on Conan. Heck, I'd settle for him being cast on The Surreal Life 12: Vicksburg, just to prove that he's still got a pulse. Once these guys rip through a smoking version of "Tom Sawyer" and "Red Barchetta", what's left to play? Is the crowd screaming, "Totem!!" or "Alien Shore!!"? And when did Yanni learn to play the drums? Neil Peart, if you're listening (and I'm SURE you are), if you don't do something about this abomination, then I will! (On a secondary side note of suck, of all the Rush album names these guys could have used for the name of their band, "Caress of Steel" was the best they could do? CARESS of freaking Steel? I know it's Rush and all, but other, infinitely cooler choices might have been "Roll the Bones", "Test for Echo" and "Vapor Trail". Or they could have been completely honest with themselves, and all of us, and gone with the more appropriate "Nobody Liked Us in High School.")



Another inspired name that says it all. Sounds more like a white collar corporate retreat filled with team-building exercises and a ropes course. But I want to get this straight. This unholy communion of ass monkeys is "back" at the Whisky?? Implying that they've been there before. At least once. Holy Mother of God. A crappy 80's hair band known more for the spread of hepatitis "C" than recording meaningful music is not only being covered, but said cover band is making a RETURN appearance to the capstone of rock and roll history. Just when I was looking for a reason to go on living, you guys come along and take the decision right out of my hands.


I'm probably being too hard on the Whisky, though. As someone who has been there on more than a few occasions, I understand the need to sell tickets to a live show in this day and age. iTunes and roofies are making it too easy to stay home on a Saturday night. The days of whip-its and audience beach balls are all but over. One look at the above Whisky schedule, though, makes me glad I saved my $45 for something more useful. Like a lobotomy.

Survey Says ...

Space Balls

Just to set the playing field here: Japan is the country that first introduced microprocessors, affordable quality sedans and robot dogs. Yet this is what they bring to the table during a $450 million trip to the International Space Station? Seriously? A boomerang? This would be a fully acceptable “experiment” if we ever allowed an Aussie to hitch a ride with us (which is precisely why we don’t), but we should hold the Japanese to a much higher standard.

How can something like this even be justified? I thought the purpose of zero gravity experiments was to eventually understand things like limb and organ regeneration, or discover some new miracle drug cultivated from the growth of space crystals. Sure, I suppose if we ever need to hunt kangaroos on the moon or fend off some Martian Dingoes, this kind of research will prove to be invaluable. But in the meantime, there are probably a couple million cancer patients who wish you would make better use of your time in low Earth orbit, Takao Doi.

I won’t let my kids throw a Nerf ball in the living room for fear of knocking over a $3.00 Stein Mart drinking glass. Yet NASA allows this cat to fling a large wooden weapon around the cramped quarters of a $130 billion spacecraft 400 miles above the planet. It’s not like every move on that thing has to be carefully choreographed so as not to kill everyone on board or anything.

But thank God he was able to let his wife know the outcome while he was still up there. I’m sure the roaming charges involved with that kind of call are minimal, at best. Clearly, a breakthrough as monumental as boomerang flight could not have waited until his return to Earth.

Here’s wishing NASA lots of luck when they go before Congress next year to ask for an increase to their obviously justified $17 billion budget.

It's A Sick World, After All ...

We all know what cold-hearted money grubbing egomaniacs the folks at Disney are. But did anybody peg them as such first class perverts? Good God, who designed this thing? Caligula?

Local law enforcement across my home state of Alabama are smashing electronic poker games and slot machines in adult “arcades” like Revenuers destroying moonshine stills in the Tennessee mountains, and yet these things are allowed to exist unchecked? This contraption would be more at home on the Howard Stern Show, a porn star sitting atop, with Baba Booey pumping quarters into it, than masquerading as a kiddie ride in some neighborhood pharmacy’s waiting room.

And where the hell are the parents here? Does nobody else see it? Look, I know my mind runs in a more deviant rut than most, but come on! You gonna tell me that any normal person wouldn’t look through the viewfinder of their Kodak Instamatic and, upon seeing the above image, immediately file a dozen lawsuits? Hell, I only glanced at the picture via the Internet, and I’M considering suing! Because there are some things in life that you can’t un-see.

The thing that really freaks me out is wondering how many other Disney-themed perv rides are out there? What, in the name of all that is good and right in the world, might Mickey or Minnie be doing to unsuspecting thrill-seekers right now, at this very moment? I shudder to think how the Seven Dwarfs version of a Merry-Go-Round could be defiling other groups of innocents. And Goofy? Man, there’s no telling what Goofy is capable of. That dude was already wack, anyway.

Marketing Haiku

The people at Graves
Must think we'll buy anything.
Wait...do they have kegs?

This Looks Nothing Like You

The worst fake I.D. of the day brought to you by Pearl, Mississippi.