Pop Life

Lykke Li's "I'm Good, I'm Gone"

2008-09-05T12:36:44-04:00

This 22-year-old Swede says her burbling electro-pop is inspired by Madonna and Bob Dylan. After listening to her debut, I’m also hearing Missing Persons, PJ Harvey and the guy who designs those big honkin’ IKEA catalogues. This is a hip, mellow affair, the kind of clean, sleek heartbreak you’d hear at a dinner party thrown by young Chicago architects. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Whattaya think?

That's just the way they roll

2008-09-04T21:54:16-04:00

Nick and Kevin Jonas perform at a sold out show for the Jonas Brothers at the Ford Amphitheatre.
Below: Kevin shakes hands with fans before the show.

[KERI WIGINTON | Times]
View more photos

TAMPA – Nadine Albadawi has something to say. Well, scream actually. After all, it’s extremely important that she get her point across. Plus she’s also speaking for her pal Samoura Slim, 12, who's still recovering from an epic bout of tweenage sobbing.

“The Jonas Brothers are real!” says the 13-year-old Tampa girl, as her fave band in the whole wide world –- the ONLY band in the whole wide world as far as she’s concerned -- finishes a pre-show sound-check for 100 lucky fans at Ford Amphitheatre Thursday. “That’s all that matters! They’re real!”

They are not the Beatles. They’re not Elvis, either. But the Jonas Brothers are the biggest story in pop music. Heck, pop culture. The Disney-owned scamps with those fabu ’dos have three albums in the top 10, including the new "A Little Bit Longer." They have a No. 1 cable movie (Disney Channel's "Camp Rock") and a merchandising deal with Target that costs me $30 every time I take my 4-year-old daughter to that godforsaken place.

The Jonas Brothers are also the LOUDEST story in music. Nick, Joe and Kevin Jonas – 15, 19 and 20 respectively, God-fearing good boys from the tony burg of Wyckoff, N.J. -– played their undeniably catchy power-pop for a sold-out crowd of 20,000 at the Tampa venue, reportedly raising the noise meter to somke 120 decibels.

It’s the kind of noise that makes you cry with life-affirming joy…well, for the first five minutes at least. After that, it just sounds like a terrorist tactic.

Everywhere you look, the Jonas boys are being stalked by young girls. And they love it. Perhaps even more important, they’re also being stalked by a rabid press, including yours truly, who was invited to spend the whole day with the band. They didn't seem to mind that, either.

So while this accessibility makes them look “real,” it also makes them look like cutie-pie rock stars who can’t get a lick of quiet, of privacy, of anything resembling a normal life. It's a brilliantly controlled mob scene featuring three boys taking it all in stride.

Just like the Beatles.

Just like the King.

****

The Jonas Brothers have fairly large, floppy bare feet. Nick, the Cute One, guzzles Diet Dr. Pepper. Kevin, the Nice One, likes to trumpet the joys of Red Bull. Joe, the Funny One (but also kinda cute), is genuinely sweet. He even gave me a fist bump. Right back at ya, buddy.

The Jonas Brothers, boys and girls, are as nice as you (and your parents) hope they are.

I learned these things not from the Q&A session, but by hanging with the guys at the Saddlebrook Resort in Wesley Chapel before their show. When the brothers were faced with yet another formal press conference, they were downright waxen, poised and posed, smoothly issuing the same slick answers they've been giving out for the last couple of years. Not rude, but not exactly a ball of laughs, either.

Joe: "The best part about touring is getting onstage and seeing the fans."

Nick: "We love Tampa. Any chance we get to come here is amazing."

Someone asks Joe about his rumored romance with country star Taylor Swift, and with neither a pause nor a smirk, he answers: "She's a wonderful girl. Anybody would be lucky to meet her." The press chuckles; the Jonas Brothers do not.

Someone asks Kevin, who's turning 21 this year, if he'll celebrate with an adult beverage on his big day. "Um, I'm not there yet," he says. Somewhere, those infamous "purity rings" were gleaming heavenly.

The brothers are famous for never acting like brothers. Never sniping, digging, punching each other in the head. They travel with their mother, father and younger brother, aka "the Bonus Jonas," one big polite happy family.

But keep watching and maybe you'll get something. Saddlebrook officials cooked up a team-building exercise for the guys. Each brother had to build a boat out of cardboard then race it across the pool. It was obviously meant as a zany photo op. "Oh no," whispered PR rep Carolyn Weyforth. "Not when it's about competition. You watch."

And indeed, with the theme from "Gilligan's Island" gamboling from a loudspeaker, Nick, Joe and Kevin went at it with an earnest fever. Nick made a teepee ("Paradise Pyramid"), Kevin a canoe ("Titanic 2"), Joe a shanty hovel ("Pool Master 5000"). When they finally launched, Nick sank, but Joe and Kevin remained afloat. Two feet from winning, Kevin took on water, and Joe, cruising to victory, immediately ripped into his sibling with a closed-door ferocity: "You're out! You're out!"

Not exactly a punch in the head. But as for trash talk, I'll take it.

****

It's easy to get cynical about pop culture these days, especially with such vapid tartlets as Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears doing their best to be dumb. And the Jonas Brothers certainly garner their share of snipes from people who don't believe they write their own songs or play their own instruments. (I was at sound-check and the show; the boys can play, trust me.)

How real can a band be if they're run by the Mouse House, the same place that made Miley "Hannah Montana" Cyrus a prefab star? Disney, after all, is make-believe.

And yet, when the Jonas Brothers finally took the stage at 9:00, descending on a hydraulic lift and kicking into theme song "That's Just the Way We Roll," you couldn't help but get a little misty-eyed.

"The last time I went to a show like this was Andy Gibb," said Mia Alvis, a Sarasota mom with two kids in tow. "It's nice. I hope that purity ring stuff sticks. I like that."

Maybe the Jonas Brothers will only get as big as Andy Gibb. Or Hanson. Or New Kids on the Block. But on this night, on this tour, the Jonas Brothers felt like the biggest act of the 21st century, the coolest role models in the universe. The fans felt it. The oft-jaded press felt it.

As my pal Nadine would say, it was definitely, deafeningly real.

'We have Jonas Brothers!'

2008-09-04T19:45:00-04:00

[Times photos: Keri Wiginton]

Okay, boys and girls, today's the big day. All Jonas Brothers, all the time, right here on Pop Life.

I'm hanging with the power-popping trio -- Nick (15), Joe (19), Kevin (20) -- all day, including a sound check "party" at Ford Amphitheatre, then the show tonight.

(Fair warning: The JoBros aren't scheduled to go on until 8:50 p.m., a perilous school-night start time considering the age of the crowd. I imagine there'll be some 'rents pretty ticked-off about that.)

If you need a primer on the Disney-driven stars, check out my March interview with the guys HERE. Basically, they're the biggest thing in pop music/culture, replacing Miley "Hannah Montana" Cyrus as ruler of the powerful tween universe. The JoBros have a No. 1 cable movie, a No. 1 album, a hot concert tour and really impressive eyebrows. They thrive on looks and hooks, with part of their allure being the "purity rings" they tout -- all clean and shiny these scamps, right? Well, we'll see...

Since I'm on the road all day, following the boys here and there, I'm calling in to my partner-in-crime Steve Spears, who is producing the blog today. Steve's a ladies man, and is obviously threatened by the Jonas Brothers' pretty-boy power. But give him some love, and he'll perk right up.

* * *

8:27 a.m.: Spearsy here now , folks. And please forgive me for my lack of knowledge on this topic. If you asked me yesterday, I'd say the Jonas Bros. were the operators of that fish-n-chip place that Sean and I hit everyday for lunch (before I gave up meat, and before Sean went on that all-cheese diet.)

I hope to hear from Sean soon. Last I saw him, he was doing cannonballs at the Holiday Inn pool with those stewardesses we met last night outside the Jo-Bros hotel. I can't imagine he's feeling very spritely this morning.

9:09 a.m.: First update from Sean. "Hey, Spearsy," he says. "The Forever Fiancee has me all stressed out what I'm supposed to wear. So I'm pacing around like a kid on prom night. Maybe my black slacks."

Slacks? There's a sudden silence on the phone. "Do kids even call them slacks anymore," we both question at the same time.

11:38 a.m.: Sean has finally arrived at the Saddlebrook Resort -- a gated community and the previously undisclosed meeting site. "Security is tight," he says. "I was grilled like a summer sausage."

The rendezvous is set up for the fitness center -- a prospect that has Sean in a lather, since it's the only "F" word he's uncomfortable saying out loud. "No sight of the Jonas Brothers yet," he says, "But I did see a large, hairy man mowing his lawn."

12:39 p.m.: "WE HAVE JONAS BROTHERS!" Seans yells at me over the phone. "I sat in the back row of the shuttle bus and saved three seats for the guys, but Nick and Joe sat up front. But Kev was heading my way and then suddenly sat two rows in front of me."

The guys -- wearing T-shirts and jeans -- are getting a tour of Saddlebrook's fitness center by Jason Riley, who has trained tennis ace James Blake and the Yankees' Derek Jeter. No workout today though. "It's the second-to-last day on the tour and they're probably pretty wiped," Sean says.

Adriana Hamui, 12, hugs Kevin Jonas at Saddlebrook Resort.

12:57 p.m.: "I just shook all their hands," Sean is now gushing at me. "Nice, firm handshakes." Seriously? Come on, Sean, details! (For the record, because people seem to care, Sean is wearing black slacks and a blue striped shirt. "It's kinda Euro," he assures me.)

He's going on and on about the just-finished Q&A, including the awkward question about a romance between Joe and Taylor Swift ("She's a wonderful girl. Anyone would be lucky to meet her," Joe assures everyone. A polite brushoff.) But then suddenly our man Sean has a chance to hop into a photo with the boys. Panic ensues. The cell phone sounds like it hits the ground and then falls into a pool. The line goes dead.

Sean Daly during the Jonas Brothers Q&A session.

12:58 p.m.: Wait, the phone is not at the bottom of the pool. Sean reports on his photo shoot. "Every time I go into Target with my kid, you guys cost me $20!" Sean tells them. They laugh. "That's it! I'm putting my arm around you, Joe!"

Sean is growing tired of the softball questions being lobbed at our pop heroes, so here's his next one: "Kevin! You turn 21 later this year ... are you gonna have a celebratory adult beverage?" Kevin looks at Sean with a straight face. "Well, the day's not here yet," he says glumly. "I'll probably be stuck in a plane anyway."

The boys are stripping down to shorts now for some pool activity. Please, no drooling.

1:23 p.m.: Saddlebrook has set up a team-building exercise for the Jo-Bros and their band, Sean now reports. Each brother leads a different team. They're given two pieces of cardboard, duct tape and a Sharpie. With those, they have to build boats and "sail" across the pool. No hotel rooms and teenage vixens for these kids!

"Nick is a lot more resourceful. He's built some sort of teepee, but I don't know if it'll float," Sean says, in a hushed, serious tone more appropriate for a golf tournament than today's weirdness.

"Kevin's really having trouble with his makeshift canoe vessel. And Joe's not making a very good boat. The young one is gonna triumph," Sean concludes.

Sean goes up to Joe. "You've built a winner here," Sean says, "but you need to reinforce the bottom." Joe gives Sean a dirty look, sending our hero slinking away.

Nick Jonas makes a cardboard boat with band members.

The press pool is now officially wagering on the boats. Sean puts down $10 on Joe's boat but only after convincing him to tape up the bottom better.

Over the PA system, the "Gilligan's Island" theme song is playing. "Nobody's gonna believe any of the stuff you're writing," he laments.

2:02 p.m.: Finally, the boat trip results. (Stop the presses!) Kevin captained "Titanic 2." Nick was in the "Paradise Pyramid." And Joe was in the "PoolMaster 5000."

Right before they take off, Joe gives Sean a fist-bump (thus earning a heaping dose of sarcasm from Times photographer Keri Wiginton -- "Oh, you're really cool.")

Jenny Takamatsu (from left), Ryan Liestman and Joe Jonas do their Poolmaster 5000 cheer for Lisa Remillardwith ABC Action News.

So how did it all end, you're screaming, right?

"Nick's teepee sank immediately. Kevin was like two feet from winning, and they sank, thus allowing Joe and the PoolMaster 5000 to win," Sean is breathlessly relating. "They all really got into it. But the Joe fist-bump was the most important thing."

The boys and the press are heading to the Ford Amphitheatre now. Thankfully, because the heat is getting to Daly. "I've lost about 15 pounds of water weight."

3:41 p.m.: Sean is finally backstage at the Ford Amp. "The press room is the size of your cubicle," he whines to me. "And it's hot. I'm going to have to file the story in my boxer shorts."

The soundcheck "party" is next, but Sean won't leave the dressing room, even though it's right next to a malfunctioning bathroom. "A guy with a plunger just went in there, I swear."

The brothers are back at the hotel, leaving the press members to wander around aimlessly. "Some groupies are yelling at me," Sean boasts. "They think I'm 'Larry' Jonas."

4:08 p.m.: The Jo-Bros are at the Amp! They were greeted by a few hundred fans. "I'm told that the sound of screaming girls at a Jonas Brothers concert reaches 120 decibels," Sean says. "I've heard it before. At first it's funny and kinda sweet. But after an hour of screaming, it actually makes you nauseous."

Sean holds up the cell phone so I can hear the sound they're making. I'm baffled. It's a muted but screeching, automated sound -- like a car slamming on the brakes suddenly. Suddenly, the sound in the phone is amplified tenfold, and I feel my brain begin to melt.

"You like that, huh?" he says, and the line goes dead.

4:38 p.m.: The sound-check is over. The brothers did three songs, including "Video Girl" and "Shelf" off the new album.

Sean says the rumor about the boys not playing their own instruments is false: "Nick was hammering on the drums. He's a good drummer."

Meanwhile, the kids watching the sound-check were going nuts. "At one point, a girl threw out a chicken mask to Joe. I have no idea what that's about," he confesses.

After the quickie set, the brothers took questions from their fans, including one who asked if they could be superheroes, which ones wold the be. Kevin said "The Flash." Nick said "Superman." And Joe said "The Incredible Hulk, because I like to be in charge."

That triggers a gushing wave of man-love from Sean: "I love the Hulk. I sense a real connection between Joe and I -- we're going to be a BFFs for a while."

7:11 p.m.: Hey, gang, it's Sean. Spearsy had enough and stormed off in a huff. Sorry the blog's been quiet but I'm writing tomorrow's JB feature in a small, ungodly hot room that will soon force me to wax poetic in my undies. I just saw some of the meet-and-greet (500 people, no less, which is nuts). Local sports heroes Mike Alstott and Tino Martinez were at the front of the epic line with their families. Tino opted to let his kids get in there with the boys. Alstott, however, has never met a camera he didn't like, so he wanted some JoBros glory as well. Frankly, I think I looked better with the band.

You know, it's easy to get jaded about pop culture these days. But call me a sap: When you see all these kids who are so ecstatic, so happy, so without any care in the world but meeting the men of their dreams, well, I get a little misty. As for my colleagues, they were teary-eyed, too, but mainly because I smell really, really bad.

The Jonas Brothers go on in about 90 minutes. Maybe I'll be back. Or maybe I'll just hide in the tour bus and join them for the rock 'n' roll life...

Tomorrow: 12 Hours of JoBros!

2008-09-03T15:40:48-04:00

Just a reminder that we'll be blogging nonstop Thursday, giving you the latest updates on the Jonas Brothers trip to Tampa Bay. The whole shebang will end with with a concert at Ford Amphitheatre. I'm meeting the shaggy pop phenoms at noon, doing a bunch of crazy press-savvy things -- and probably won't get home until 2 a.m. (That is, if we all don't get arrested first. "It's Nick's Uzi, I swear!")

My good buddy Steve Spears will be the point man here at Pop Life, deciphering my fanboy ravings and turning them into pure poetry. We should also have tons of pix and real-time updates about the state of Nick's hair. I've just been sent the itinerary but have been sworn to secrecy about the day's events.

Don't miss a second of the mayhem!

Lady Antebellum's "Love Don't Live Here"

2008-09-03T11:56:22-04:00

Much like Michael Caine in "Jaws 4," Lady Antebellum singer Charles Kelley has the ability to take a dud and make it strangely palatable. Herewith, "Love Don't Live Here," which is a far better song than it should be. Have you heard this dude sing? Reminds me of Gregg Allman. Killer voice.

Vial of sweat? Lock of hair? Place your order...

2008-09-02T17:52:58-04:00

This Thursday, from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m., I'll be tagging along with none other than the Jonas Brothers, in town for a show at Ford Amphitheatre. The shaggy Mouse Housers will be scampering across the wilds of Tampa Bay, delighting screamy tweens and more than a few blushing moms. Not sure what I'm going to get out of it (other than sweat stains and a headache), but we're gonna shoot the moon. The road to the Pulitzer starts here! We'll also have a photog (and maybe some video) along for the ride, so I should be able to blog/snark as the day goes on. Should be good for a few laffs.

In a curious aside, I have no idea how to tell Kid Lulu that I'll be hanging with her dream boys for the day. I mean, how could she even process that? She flips out when she sees them in a magazine. The other night, in a giggly frenzy, she said, "Call the cops! The Jonas Brothers are in my head!" Should I tell her? Not tell her?

Let's fire up the hype machine...

2008-09-02T13:35:39-04:00

Mark your calendars: On Saturday, Oct. 25, I'll be giving a wild, woolly, raw, sexy and, most importantly, FREE lecture at the Festival of Reading on the bustling campus of USF St. Pete. It should be scintillating. In fact, let's not even call it a "lecture." Let's call it something more appropriate, like a "throwdown" or a "nude odyssey." Yeah, that oughta get the turnstiles spinning.

Not sure what the topic will be. But rest assured, the encore will include both "Mama, no!" and "Excuse me, John Mellencamp, may I use your bathroom?"

I bet Houdini hated pre-K

2008-09-02T11:08:56-04:00

That's right, the Hungarian escape artist so hated the perils of pre-kindergarten -- so hated coloring between the lines and tracing capital letters and rhyming "dog" with "hog" and dealing with chirpy teachers trying to tame the constant donnybrook of 4-year-olds at war -- that he started devising clever ruses to flee his chalky captors. When forced with the hell of pre-K, his mind worked overtime, concocting glorious escape plans of ditching school. Sometimes this included tears and flailing and dry heaves and Band-Aids and fake sleep and a sudden dislike of chicken nuggets. Never give up, he reasoned, even when your father is on the verge of breakdown. Yep, that's how Erik Weisz became Houdini.

Coming soon: The Amazing Kid Lulu.

Happy Tuesday everybody.

PODCAST! Behold, the face of evil

2008-09-02T11:07:59-04:00

Not a lot of chit-chat over at Stuck in the '80s about this week's podcast, which wraps up the retro-concerts of Summer '08 (VH, Bon Jovi, Colin Hay, Tom Petty, etc.). That's a shame, 'cause this is a pretty funny show. Or at least it felt funny. Well, it was fun at least. Steve Spears and I had a great time recording it, which isn't always the case, since we've been battling like brothers these days. As a bonus, if you're a fan of the 'cast, this is a pivotal episode if only for the arrival of the Great Muncho Rebellion, the inclusion of which scholars will be debating for years. Twas Munchos that killed the beast? Maybe, just maybe. Click HERE for maximum enjoyment.

LIVE REVIEW: Kenny & Miranda

2008-08-29T23:11:42-04:00

Kenny Chesney performs at the Ford Amphitheatre in Tampa, [WILL VRAGOVIC | Times]

TAMPA – Having an identity crisis is a hot accessory in Nashville these days. Everyone’s flip-flopping for that perfect fit, be it country tinged with rock or pop, outlaw or hick-hop. And if that doesn't work, try something else. Betraying you heart is a lot easier from the driver's seat of a gold-plated pickup.

That’s what’s so refreshing about Miranda Lambert and Kenny Chesney. On a monster double bill at Ford Amphitheatre Friday, in front of a sold-out crowd of 20,000, the two stars were dead honest about who they want to be. And they won't be changing anytime soon.

For a lot of Tampa Bay folks, this was the concert event of the year. And hoo boy, did hero and heroine deliver the goods.

Lambert is a buck-baggin’, man-eating hellion with cheerleader looks and a psycho-sexy snarl. The 24-year-old isn't selling records like country princess Carrie Underwood. But five years from now, Underwood will be Celine Dion. Miranda will still be Miranda.

Opening with the caustic title cut from 2007's "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend," the proudly curvy Lambert was a wild-haired wonder. Her voice was criminally low in the mix at first, but soon enough her switchblade twang rang clear, and she nailed such hits as "Famous in a Small Town" and "Me and Charlie Talking."

With a five-piece band behind her, and a rippling banner of crossed pistols behind them, Lambert stalked the stage, admonishing the crowd for not giving her the proper energy in return. For nearly 40 minutes, she made no apologies for burning up boyfriends ("Kerosene") and drinking and driving ("Dry Town").

One of Lambert's last acts was hurling her electric guitar at a roadie -- and darn-near impaling the poor guy. Her response? A flip of the hair, a shake of the fanny and the universal hand sign for rock 'n' roll.

As for Kenny, the behatted 40-year-old simply wants to be Jimmy Buffett. His margarita-flavored life plan has made him the most bankable touring act in America, which sure sniffs of selling out. (He even has Buffett's old sponsor, Corona.) But give him credit: A Chesney show has become a Happening, the biggest country show of the year. And thousands of Tampa Bay fans showed up hours early -- on a workday no less -- to celebrate the man's arrival.

Every aspect of the two-hour set was tooled for audience flip-outs, from the bra tree he uses to hold projectiles, to the Bucs flag draped over the keyboard, to a special appearance by buddy Uncle Kracker. But it never rang false, not once, and that's Chesney's greatest gift. He isn't as puckish as Buffett, but he's a lot more convincing as the Everyman.

With a massive band behind him (including steel drums, banjo and horns), Chesney cranked up the volume and the energy, working the escapist bit ("Summertime," "Beer in Mexico," "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problems"), the 9-to-5 line ("Shiftwork") and the small-town charm ("Back Where I Come From"). He was in and out of hits faster than his speed-marriage to Renee Zellweger.

His show was carefully, cinematically calibrated, making people feel as if they're having the time of their lives. When he punctuated the mania with such time-goes-by weepers as "Don't Blink" and a heart-wrenching "There Goes My Life," he made fans feel as if nothing were more important than the here-and-now. You might call it manipulative. As for me? I bought the whole dang thing.

Photo: Miranda Lambert in concert at the Ford Amphitheatre in Tampa. [WILL VRAGOVIC | Times]

"Oh, he was different all right..."

2008-08-29T13:00:30-04:00

Last year I wrote an essay about the 25th anniversary of Thriller -- and how that titular video is, lo and behold, still selling like gangbusters on iTunes. I reasoned that our trusty iPods -- so small, so private, a digital representation of our pop pleasures, guilty and otherwise -- were the appropriate place to worship Michael Jackson in the 21st century. Idolizing the Boy Who Would Be King these days is a tricky undertaking...but a lot less trickier on a screen the size of $1.50 in postage. Here's a LINK to that story. How we loved him then, and how we love him now, is a good discussion for today, which just happens to be Michael Jackson's 50th birthday. "It's close to midnight..."

The crazier the better, I always say

2008-08-29T11:44:43-04:00

Miranda Lambert and Kenny Chesney play Tampa's Ford Amphitheatre tonight, and I'll be there, the only dude out of 20,000 not hoisting a pint in the name of Friday night f-u-n. As Pop Lifers know, I'm a big fan of the deer-slayin', Barbie-shredding, boyfriend-igniting Lambert, whose song "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" is just the tip of the sexy-psychotic iceberg. As for Chesney, give the guy credit for not only wanting to be the next Jimmy Buffett, but actually making it happen. If you're going, and you see me, make sure and say howdy.

DALY TV: What a train wreck!

2008-08-28T10:58:04-04:00

Perhaps you're having a bad day. Perhaps you feel as if you can't do anything right, that the world is against you, that you can't wait for tomorrow. Take heart, my downtrodden friends: At the very least, you didn't stink up morning television in the 12th biggest media market in the United States. Eek, this is torture. Failing to be funny is one thing; failing to be both funny AND informative for 5 deadly minutes is another. (Sorry, Russell!) Fair warning: You'll never get this time back.

10 shows to see...and 5 to skip

2008-08-28T10:39:19-04:00

In celebration of my Fall Concert Preview in today's paper, I went on Fox's "Good Day, Tampa Bay" this morning...and BOMBED. Oh, it was gruesome. In fact, the appearance is so bad, it's almost entertaining. If they put a link up for it, I'll provide the carnage. At the very least, the FF said I looked good -- but I sounded like a mo-ron.

Anyway, I'm working from home (still waiting for the alien to come rocketing out of Kid Lulu's gut). The fall concert ish is always good for a slew of hate mail, so I'll check on that later today.

Anyway, all sorts of folks are coming to the bay area this fall, including Carrie Underwood, who plays Tampa's St. Pete Times Forum Dec. 12. Honestly, I coulda put Carrie on either the Go or Stay pile. Her last album was dull, but she's a phenomenal covers artist. Plus she's mildly attrative. Click HERE to see where she finally landed.

Wow, we're big fans of your sister

2008-08-27T16:24:36-04:00

Solange
Album: Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams (Geffen)
In stores: Now
Why we care: As a lifelong only child, I've always wondered what kind of sibling I would have been. I routinely see myself as having an older, wildly successful sister. Like Madonna Daly. Or at least Cher Daly. "Hey, look everybody, it's Cher's mutant kid brother. Looks like the talent train pulled up a little short with him. Ha! Ha!" Then, in a furious rage, I would have roared off on my Harley, smearing the family name with some sort of drug-fueled hijinks. Oh, what could have been. Sigh. Anyway, all of this reminds me of Solange Knowles (well, without the drugs, Harley and hijinks, of course). Solange is the 22-year-old sis of Beyonce. She's cute (but not AS cute), charismatic (but not AS charismatic). She has cool taste in music, but she can’t sing all that well. Truth be told, her fame will forever be hinged on her sister's. That said, Solange will always get a good table at the best restaurants. So yeah, I could totally live with that.
Why we like it: On her new album, Solange digs trippy, good-time R&B, getting sound merchants Thievery Corporation and the Neptunes to craft cool grooves. She throws back to the '60s, but she also uses modern beats, not unlike Amy Winehouse or Duffy. Her voice is thin, and nothing really sticks, but at least she's having fun.
Reminds us of: Gimme a call, Cher. Let's patch things up.
Download these: Sandcastle Disco (LISTEN) and I Decided (LISTEN)
Grade: B-

Because I am the '80s

2008-08-27T11:16:21-04:00

I'm really just posting this to irk my boy Steve Spears, who flew into a sputtering rage when I revealed the awesomeness that was in my mailbox this morning. This is the beautifully locker-encased High School Flashback Collection, due in stores Sept. 16. This shiny, metallic treasure box of '80s pop poetry includes remastered, reboostered, reloaded, reenergized DVDs of The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles and Weird Science. When I did my celebratory you-suck-I'm-cool dance in front of Steve, he blurted, "Why would you get this?" Hmm, maybe because I'm the frickin' co-host of a frickin' podcast called Stuck in the '80s, you meatless frickin' bully!!! Then he started whining about Weird Science's inclusion in the troika. Then he sulked and said he already owned all three, so who cares?

Anyway, each DVD has an assortment of goodies, including a 10-part doc for Sixteen Candles and a 12-part doc for The Breakfast Club. Lotta commentary from the stars and various admirers (including Juno writer Diablo Cody), as well. If Steve apologizes for being so nasty, I'm gonna invite him over for a viewing party and crudites.

Alliteration, for lack of a better word, is good

2008-08-27T10:45:48-04:00

A big thanks to loyal Pop Lifer John Hays, who picked up my Gordon Gekko reference in a previous post and got nutty with it. With toupee firmly in place, I really did stress the velocital importance of alliteration to an auditorium full of high-schoolers last night. And I got paid for it. Alliteration is right. Alliteration works. Screw journo instructors, boys and girls. Go get Seussian on 'em...

The Dude Abides...

2008-08-26T20:37:06-04:00

This year marks the 10th anniversary of "The Big Lebowski," my favorite Coen bros movie. (The FF hates it. Is it, appropriately enough, a dude flick?) Anyway, there's a great article in the new Rolling Stone about the making-of and the flick's lasting legacy. Plus seeing as how we were tough on Kenny Rogers this week on the podcast, it's only fair to recognize his finest work, here with the First Edition, "Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)." It's not the whole classic dream sequence, but it's good enough. Enjoy, you Achievers!

Sorry...

2008-08-26T16:40:56-04:00

...that I'm so tardy with new blogations. I'm lugging around a feverish (but fine) Kid Lulu. I'm talking to the youth of America at the Poynter Institute tonight. I'm in the muck and mire of new stories/journalistic wonderment. Basically, I'm swamped. So just entertain yourselves, and I'll be back with more merriment soon enough. Thanks, SD

Guy Goes West

2008-08-25T16:47:14-04:00

You guys remember Guy, that swingin' jet-setter who zips about the globe with no responsibilities other than to slake his thirst for rock 'n' roll? Well, Pop Life's boldest contributor is at it again, this time in the great state of South Dakota, where he managed to catch sets by saloon-savvy gals Miranda Lambert and Ashton Shepherd. He liked one act a lot more than the other, which is interesting, 'cause Guy has been romantically linked to both of them in the tabs.

Anyway, if you wanna read all about it, click the below link...

Rapid City, S.D. -- I have seen the future of female country music singers. Her name is Ashton Shepherd. A 21-year-old newcomer hailing from Coffeeville, Ala., Shepherd stole the spotlight from show-closer Miranda Lambert last Monday night at the Central States Fair.

Shepherd, who wrote or co-wrote 10 of the 11 songs on her 2008 debut album, Sounds So Good, represents both a musical throwback (lots of songs about drinkin', pickin', lovin' and leavin', y'all) and a de facto throwdown to country music radio, with its current fixation on boy bands (Rascal Flatts) and Jimmy Buffett imitators (Kenny Chesney).

Shepherd's generous, 12-song set drew heavily from Sounds So Good, with lead-off single Takin' Off This Pain and the title track (and current single) particularly well-suited for her honey-dipped twang. She wisely compensated for the audience's lack of familiarity with much of her set by mixing in three well-received covers: Sweet Home Alabama (Lynyrd Skynyrd), Fishin' in the Dark (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) and I'm No Stranger to the Rain (Keith Whitley).

Nashville Star alum Miranda Lambert was not as fortunate with her 20-song set which, although powerful, was undermined by questionable pacing and setlist management. Case in point: pairing incendiary versions of Kerosene and current single Gunpowder and Lead to close out her main set, then returning for a two-song encore consisting of covers of Merle Haggard (The Way I Am) and the Faces (Stay With Me) as the crowd streamed from the grandstand.

Lambert seemed to acknowledge this disconnect at times, noting that the crowd was "way too dang quiet" and informing Rapid City that they "better wake up". While clearly talented and possessing a powerful voice, Lambert lacked both the depth of song catalog and the force of personality needed to command audiences at larger venues.