The N&R published a David Brooks column today under the headline "Pop music's angry young women." (behind the NYT pay wall here.)

In it Brooks looks at the pop landscape -- as represented by Carrie Underwoord, Pink and Avril Lavigne -- and is a little spooked by what he sees.

I've been thinking about Avril Lavigne lately myself.

I don't suppose that makes me unique among American men - but she's apparently 21 and married now (when did that happen?) -- so that statement isn't as creepy as it might have been a few years ago, when the Canadian singer first burst onto the pop scene in faux skater-girl clothes with pop punk ditties and sad-girl ballads.

But anyway, she's been on my mind for reasons that aren't even a little prurient. Sexual fantasies about young blonde pop stars are disposable. My obsession over her newest single, "Girlfriend," is a lingering, festering thing.

According to NME Brandon Flowers, lead singer of The Killers, is now a proud papa.

Flowers, a Mormon rock star who rose to prominence playing sexually ambiguous retro-glam/new wave songs that sounded like The Smiths getting it on with Duran Duran can look forward to his son becoming a Republican accountant and president of his local Rotary Club.

Because that's how it works.

George Harrison proposed to her the first day he met her.

After they were married, he wrote "Something" for her.

Though she was married to his best friend, Eric Clapton fell in love with her -- a love-triangle drama that inspired "Layla" and led him to become a junkie.

Later, after the two were married, she was the woman in Clapton's "Wonderful, Tonight."

Who is this modern musical Mata Hari?

She's Pattie Boyd and she's releasing a tell-all autobiography, Wonderful Today, on August 23.

As part of the promotion England's Daily Mail has run a two-part excerpt from the book.

Among the book's many strange revelations:

1) Apparently Harrison returned from the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's ashram in India in 1968 he was obsessed with becoming a Krishna figure, "a spiritual beings with lots of concubines." After telling his wife this he began bedding just about anything that would wriggle, including one of Clapton's ex-girlfriends and Ringo's wife.

2) Clapton was living with Boyd's younger sister when he first professed his love for her in an anonymous letter.

3) Clatpon was apparently quite the ladies man, but couldn't get Boyd out of her knickers until he played a pre-release version of "Layla" for her. Even then, she slept with him but wouldn't leave her husband. He threatened to become a junkie if she wouldn't be his -- when she said no, that's just what he did.

4) Clapton was fond of writing her love letters on the pages of books, including John Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men" and a book of Scottish ballads.

5) Harrison was often busy shagging his friends' ex-girlfriends and wives, but he didn't take his best friend's advances toward his wife lying down. This is how Boyd describes a bizarre confrontation between the two which eerily presaged the alleged "dance off" between an estranged Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears years later:

"One evening the actor John Hurt was with us. Eric was due to come over too and George decided to have it out with him. John wanted to make himself scarce but George insisted he stay.

That whole period was insane."

Clearly.

Boyd doesn't leave anyone looking like an angel -- including herself. She confesses to drug and alcohol abuse, adultery and (maybe, it's hard to tell) a brief affair with Ron Wood of the Faces and later the Rolling Stones.

The descriptions of people with way too much money, way too many drugs and way too few inhibitions are a little jarring, even to those of us sort of dulled to that sort of thing by modern celebrity gossip. There's a different sort of edge to it because we're not talking about people who we aren't sure whether we'll care about in five years -- we're talking about rock legends, here.

VH1's new Rock Docs series kicks off this weekend with part one of the two-part NY77: The Coolest Year in Hell

The series looks at New York City in 1977 -- the year of the great blackout, the Son of Sam killings, the beginnings of hip-hop culture and punk rock at CBGB. The story is told by those who were there -- among them KRS-One, Afrika Bambaattaa, Richard Hell, Tommy Ramone, Annie Sprinkle and Geraldo Rivera (yes, Geraldo Rivera).

Check out these clips from the documentary...

The Ramones bring together punks and criminals:

NY77: Punks and Criminals

In this bonus story from the VH1 Rock Doc: NY77: The Coolest Year in Hell (premiering August 11, 2007) the Ramones artistic director Arturo Vega explains how the Lower East Side's punk culture helped some potential criminals realize that it was cooler to hang out with the Ramones than to rob them.

Al Goldstein and Geraldo Rivera remember NYC's first open swingers' club, Plato's Retreat:

NY77: Plato's Retreat

Television - This excerpt from the VH1 Rock Doc: NY77: The Coolest Year in Hell (premiering August 11, 2007) recalls the first public swingers club, Plato's Retreat.

How the NYC blackout (and ensuing looting) helped give birth to street DJs and hip hop crews in need of equipment:

NY77: Blackout!

This excerpt from the VH1 Rock Doc: NY77: The Coolest Year in Hell (premiering August 11, 2007) shows how New Yorkers coped with the great blackout in July 1977. Musicians, celebrities and politicians remember the fear, the looting and the unexpected benefit to hip hop.

An animated recounting of an early rap battle:

NY77: The Rap Battle

In this excerpt from the VH1 Rock Doc: NY 77: The Coolest Year in Hell (premiering August 11, 2007), a memorable rap battle between Grandmaster Caz-DJ Disco Wiz and Afrika Bambaataa is recounted in classic comic book style by the artist Jim Rugg.

Twenty-five years ago, on Aug. 17, 1982, ABBA's "The Visitors" became the very first CD to be released commercially. Which means that CDs have been around nearly as long as I have, even though I can remember having cassettes until middle school. The first CD I ever saw was my friend's copy of Green Day's "Dookie," and the first CD I ever owned was Nirvana's "Nevermind," followed quickly by the soundtrack to "The Bodyguard" and Credence Clearwater Revival's greatest hits.

They've had a good run, but how long before they become obsolete? I wonder if my children will wrinkle their noses at my CDs, the way I used to laugh at my parents' 8-tracks and records. Instead of the click-clack sound of flipping through CDs at the music store, will they only hear the clicking of a mouse as they download songs?

Some other interesting facts about CDs:

-- The original disc was meant to hold an hour of audio. It was extended to the odd measure of 74 minutes, however, to make room for Beethoven's 9th Symphony.
-- The first CD players cost as much as $2,000, when adjusted for inflation.
-- More than 200 billion CDs have been sold since 1982.

Side note: I found this part of the BBC article interesting:

"Piet Kramer, who was a member of the optical group at Philips during the disc's development, said: "When Philips teamed up with Sony to develop the CD, our first target was to win over the world for the CD.

"We did this by collaborating openly to agree on a new standard. For Philips, this open innovation was a new approach and it paid off."

Seems as if philosophies have changed a bit since then. I wish the DVD companies would collaborate on a new standard, instead of making me choose between BluRay and HD-DVDs.

Lately I've been listening to Spoon's new record, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, a lot.

Like, obsessively.

When I'm not listening to it, I'm singing songs from it to myself and dancing around as though I was in an iPod commerical.

It's become embarassing.

The single "I Turn My Camera On" is pretty addictive.

Not completely unrelated -- Bruce Springsteen's video for the single "Radio Nowhere" from his forthcoming album with the E-Street Band is now online. It sounds like...something. But I don't know what. I like it, though.

Am I the only one who thought this study might have been a waste of money?

LONDON (Reuters) - Rock stars -- notorious for their "crash and burn" lifestyles -- really are more likely than other people to die before reaching old age.

A study of more than 1,000 mainly British and North American artists, spanning the era from Elvis Presley to rapper Eminem, found they were two to three times more likely to suffer a premature death than the general population.

Between 1956 and 2005 there were 100 deaths among the 1,064 musicians examined by researchers at the Centre for Public Health at Liverpool John Moores University.

Also in the realm of "duh" from the study: More than a quarter of all the deaths were related to drugs or alcohol abuse.

I'm strangely ambivalent about Britney Spears, her new single and her upcoming performance at the MTV Video Music Awards.

The new single, "Gimme More" begins with Britney announcing "It's Britney, b**ch!" -- and then giggling girlishly.

She then moans/sings lines like "You've got me in a strange position/if you're on a mission/you've got my permission."

Which might have been intriguing five years ago. But we've now seen her pregnant, bald, swinging at photographers, marrying backup dancers and walking barefoot through gas station bathrooms. Any mystique that once existed is gone forever and the new single seems almost like a parody of a Britney Spears song.

As I've written about before, part of Britney's incredible success was the way in which she so successfully straddled that ever-thinner line between innocent bubble gum pop princess and wanton, hardcore pop whore. The whole wet hot virgin thing was not new -- but she did it so transcendently well that even the most savvy of us had to wonder, as Chuck Klosterman did in a classic piece for Esquire -- was she the least self-aware person on the planet, or the most self-aware?

The Video Music Awards could be a triumphant return for Britney -- someone I know has a theory that she's been so successful because so many people are, deep down within themselves, pulling for her to succeed despite her own ridiculousness. The further she falls -- marrying K-Fed, having two of his children and then leaving them at home to go panty-less clubbing with Paris Hilton -- the more we want her to, like Hulk Hogan, come back from the depths and be our hero once again.

But as a fellow reporter said to me today -- this could also be just an awful embarrassment. She's been through a lot since her last album and tour -- a marriage, two children, rehab -- and those who care on more than a voyeuristic, will-she-make-a-fool-of-herself level, may be expecting the young, hot dancing machine sexpot of a half-decade ago. We may instead get the modern version of Elvis' Live from Hawaii special -- a pop icon past whose pop moment has past, well beyond the peak of their powers, begging for people to care again but clearly consigned to a sort of post-stardom that can only ever bottom out in a sort of cut-rate cult fame that will never really compare to the heady thrill of new, young fame.

Her new publicity shots do have her looking a bit like a drag queen...

Which brings me to an interesting point.

I've noticed that gay men have become the latter-day bread and butter of many a faded female pop star (Cher, Madonna, Cindy Lauper, Debbie Harry). Some of the young women who grew up with the music will always have a soft spot for these pop divas -- but for whatever reason (pop stars' flamboyance, the fact that some drag queens like to dress like them, take your pick) gay guys seem to be the retirement plan. None of these women are gay themselves -- but they've all become "gay icons."

Not a bad deal, really.

So maybe the question is -- will Britney use this upcoming performance and upcoming album to keep herself in the mainstream pop spotlight a while longer (as her idol Madonna has managed to do) -- or is she headlining the next Gay Games?

In this week's posts you can:

* Read my musings on Britney Spears looking like a drag queen (and the possibility that she'll spend the rest of her life performing for them).

* Find out whether Disney Channel's High School Musical star Vanessa Hudgens (and new star of inadvertent teen amateur Internet pornography) is into the Brazilian wax!

* Check out pictures of Maggie Gyllenhaal in the new Agent Provocateur lingerie ad campaign!

* Consider "The N Word" with comedians Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, Chris Rock and Dave Chapelle -- all of whom used it to greater effect than Eddie Griffin, who was bounced from a Black Enterprise event for dropping it this weekend.

* Tell me whether you got screwed when Apple dropped the price of the iPhone just two months after its release (and whether the $100 store credit they're giving customers makes up for it).

* Check out clips from shows coming out on DVD -- including 30 Rock, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and, of course, Flight of the Conchords.

If you missed any of it, it's all archived. Enjoy.

Also -- talk back, you lurking bastards!

Here's what I mean about Britney Spears, whose disgraceful VMA performance this year has been the subject of much discussion since she sleep-walked her way through it on Sunday:

This clip, from her infamous VMA performance (and kiss) with Madonna and Christina Aguilera, demonstrates that she can perform without lip-synching:

(Dig how excited the guys from "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" are -- it's like their heads are about to explode. I'm telling you -- Germans love David Hasselhoff and gay dudes love Madonna.)

Come to that, this performance of "Satisfaction/Oops, I Did It Again" from 2000 demonstrates that -- at least for the first bit.

And this clip, the much talked about VMA performance with the snake, shows that even when she feels she has to lip sync (and it seems clear she's doing it here) she can do it better than she did it this time.

All three clips show that she can (or could -- I suppose it's been a while) dance better than she did this time around.

You don't have to enjoy this type of music to understand from these clips that she was once a commanding, dynamic performer who help audiences in the palm of her hand.

"Was" being the operative word, I suppose.

I don't know why -- but this makes me sad.

Sort of like watching an old Michael Jackson performance and then seeing what's become of him.

Just seems a waste.

VH1 is airing the first two songs from Bruce Springsteen's concert tonight in East Rutherford, N.J.

This (and a string of Today Show performances last week) are to promote his new album, Magic, which Rolling Stone just gave five stars.

Bruce is one of those polarizing pop culture figures about whom few are lukewarm.

He inspires rabid devotion in his fans -- a number of whom I call friends, a few of whom occasionally scare me.

Others sort of go: "Born in the U.S.A., right? Blue jeans? Flag? Right."

Runnin' Down a Dream, the David Bogdanovich documentary about Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, is being screened at select theaters next week.

The trailer -- featuring Eddie Vedder, Rick Rubin, Stevie Nicks, The Travelling Wilburys, Dave Grohl, Bob Dylan and Johnny Depp -- looks good.

If you live in Greensboro the closest showings are in DC and TN -- but the movie will be released Oct. 16 as part of a box set that includes three DVDs and one CD. Rare concert footage, interviews, all that good stuff. It's a Best Buy exclusive and, at $25.00 seems like a deal to me.

But here's the thing -- the film is apparently a butt-numbing FOUR HOURS LONG.

I love Tom Petty but come on, man -- don't do me like that.

I may have to watch it in installments, like a mini-series. But I can enjoy the coffee table book now.

The universe has apparently decided to answer the question of whether I could possibly love Target any more by having the store offer a line of David Bowie inspired clothing.

My first thought was, of course, that trying to sell some of David Bowie's looks could be difficult...

But the stuff they've gone with is largely from his Berlin period, "The Man Who Fell to Earth" and his later period, "I dress this way because I'm married to an International Supermodel" look.

Pitchfork media jokes that this is "a far better idea than a Low/Heroes/Lodger inspired line of coke-straws."

On the whole, the clothes really look good. This trench coat may have to come home with me...

Bowie won't be the first artist of his generation to sell clothes at a department store -- some years ago Brian Ferry of Roxy Music was the spokesperson for Marks & Spencer's "Autograph" line of clothing (a job that seems to have been disappointingly taken up by Take That). But he was savvy enough to get his music marketed alongside the clothes in Target stores.

You freaky old bastard, you...

SEATTLE (AP) — The guitarist for indie pop rockers Death Cab for Cutie still expects to release his solo album in January even though federal border agents seized a computer hard drive containing the master tracks.
A courier was headed to Seattle-based Barsuk Records from a studio in Vancouver, British Columbia, when U.S. Border Patrol agents seized the hard drive Sept. 19, Chris Walla said Wednesday.
Guards at the Peace Arch border crossing in Blaine let the courier keep the tapes but seized the hard drive for examination by computer forensics experts, according to Walla and Hipposonic President Rob Darch.

---

According to officials, the hard drive has now been cleared to be released -- but there's been no explanation as to why it was seized in the first place.

In the latest issue of Rolling Stone, which hit my mailbox this weekend:

- Great interview with Bruce Springsteen, who's on the cover, but no big surprise there. I think it would take some real skill to write a bad Bruce interview. Some great early pictures of Bruce with the story, including one of him rail thin and shaggy in a pair of jeans, size-small tank top and beat-up black Chuck Taylor All-Stars. He looks like every pseudo-hippie kid I went to high school with.

- More of their kind of crap election coverage by Matt Taibbi, whose continuing assignment to write nasty, sort of obvious things about all of the Republican presidential hopefuls brings him to Mitt Romney this issue. Taibbi shocks and appalls us by revealing that Romney is...a politician! He says things people want to hear (No!)! He uses (gasp!) stock public speaking techniques. He speaks in (for shame!) glittering generalities! Somebody stick a wooden stake in this guy's heart, quick!

- A pretty good piece on Internet gossip-monger Perez Hilton (AKA Mario Lavendeira), who makes his living by posting other peoples' celebrity photography for free and making catty comments about its subjects (as I'll do now, following his shining example).

His ability to post other peoples' work and be snarky about the rich and famous is apparently making him $250,000 a year and he's just landed a television show.

This piece would make me hate this guy even more than I already do...but somehow I can't bring myself to bother. What I do like: the piece reveals Hilton's Bond-villainesque origin as a cranky, chubby, misanthropic little kid whose parents let him lay in bed watching TV 12 hours a day and would bring him meals on trays so he didn't have to get up and go to the kitchen. People were mean to him in high school, so his being mean to famous people who commit the mortal sin of occasionally going outside without makeup really makes perfect sense.

"I think what I do is noble," Hilton says.

Get this guy a Pulitzer! And a swift kick in the nobility!

- A weird "Wheels 07" feature wherein musicians pose with cars, test drive them and offer their opinions. This makes me love The Dropkick Murphys more than I already do, as they test drive an Infiniti G37S. The Boston punks break all sorts of traffic laws in it, squeal into a Dunkin Donuts parking lot excitedly screaming "Dunkies!" and ultimately break the windshield while posing with the car with "props" like a sledgehammer and chainsaw.

"This is the car of a Yankee fan!" bassist/songwriter Ken Casey says after the "accident."

The writer theorizes that he should never have told them the car was fully insured.

All right -- this is why I love YouTube.

This is from the pilot of "Graffiti Rock" -- a show that was supposed to become the Hip Hop American Bandstand or Soul Train.

It wasn't picked up -- but this clip has Run DMC from 1984.

Special extra: A young Vincent Gallo (of Brown Bunny infamy) makes a cameo at the beginning, introducing himself as "Prince Vince" and Kool Moe Dee and Special K from th Treacherous Three show up to battle at the end of the clip.

Two things occurred to me today when, in my car, I heard Billy Joel's "Say Goodbye to Hollywood":

1) Like a lot of Billy Joel's songs, I have no idea what the hell this one is about, really. Someone's leaving Hollywood. They should, therefore, say goodbye. My baby.

2) Is there any recording artist who recorded more depressing songs over the course of his career without really leaving the impression that his music is depressing?

I mean, really -- take a look at Billy Joel's catalog. Some of the up numbers jump out at you -- even the up numbers ("Uptown Girl," for instance) are, upon closer inspection, pretty depressing.
Even his Greatest Hits album (which is, by definition, the songs that would have the greatest commercial appeal) is, for anyone who's paying attention, sort of a list of reasons to try to off yourself or check into a clinic (both of which Joel had some experience with early in life).

Well, it's Web Junkie Wednesday again -- and in this week's edition I want to talk about online juke boxes. You know, those free online tune repositories that keep you singing through your workday (and distract you from any actual work as you search their catalogs).

My personal favorite right now is Soundpedia, an online collection of music, videos and community features that allows you to listen to an astonishing number of songs and full length albums in their entirety -- and even shows you the lyrics as the songs are playing.

I've been making an effort to listen to more new music lately. I'm afraid of becoming one of those people who listen to the same dozen albums over and over again for the rest of their lives without taking in anything new. Not preemptively -- I began recognizing the symptoms and rushed to treat them.

So here's some of the new stuff I'm listening to. How about you?

Confession: I was a pretty big Morrissey fan in high school. Not nearly as big as my friend Brian LaRue, who introduced me to Moz. But pretty big. Still, I never saw this video for "November Spawned a Monster" -- in which Morrissey, decked out in a mesh shirt and dancing like a gay club kid who's had maybe one more interpretive dance class than he has cosmos, rolls around and gyrates and generally looks sad out in the middle of a desert. As we're coming into November's homestretch, I thought I might present this to you guys before taking a few days off:

Man, that's monstrously strange.

But I do still love the line: "Jesus made me/so Jesus save me/from pity, sympathy/and people discussing me.'

Truth be told I still love most of Moz's Smiths and solo stuff in a completely unironic way -- even the bits I know are ridiculous. But his videos have always been pretty awful. Check out this one for the terrific "Last of the Famous International Playboys":

His new stuff's pretty great -- I somehow feel he's grown into himself and makes a great cranky old guy. He's gotten rid of the mesh shirts and bought some great suits, for one thing. He's still not making great videos, though. Check out this pretty average clip for the pretty great song "Irish Blood/English Heart":

Still terrific live, though. Check out this concert montage built around one of my favorites,"There Is a Light That Never Goes Out":

Bruce may be down one keyboardist for now, but he's on the cover of the current issue of Spin with Win Butler, lead singer of Arcade Fire.

Here's some YouTube footage of The Boss doing Arcade Fire's "Keep The Car Running" with Win and his wife, Regine, and a duet on his own "State Trooper" as well.

Slight spoilers if you know absolutely nothing about Sweeney Todd. I don't think there's anything here that isn't in the trailer.

Quick note: For those who don't know, Sweeney Todd, coming to theatres Dec. 21, is a movie version of Stephen Sondheim's award-winning Broadway musical. Sweeney is the Demon Barber of Fleet Street -- a man wronged who wants revenge on those who wronged him.

So I was playing around on the Sweeney Todd Web site. I've been waiting for the movie for a long time now, really looking forward to it. But it's also been tinged with nervous anticipation -- will they be able to pull it off? I love Johnny Depp, and I didn't want him to screw this up.

Well, thank goodness, he hasn't. At least not from what I've heard. If you go to this link and click "Enter site", another window will open. In the top right corner is something called Audio -- click on it, and you can listen to parts of some of the different songs. I'm pleasantly surprised with Depp -- he's not bad. It's a hard role to sing, and what little I've heard impresses me.

However. Helena Bonham-Carter.

It's unfortunate that her and Burton are a thing because she's going to be hearing a lot of director's couch comments. She's awful -- she can't sing -- it's more of a fast talking, and there's no power at all behind it. Not to mention she sounds like she is trying to hurry through the lyrics as fast as she can so she can stop singing -- she doesn't seem to believe she should be singing, either.

She just annoyed me in "Bit of Priest" and "Worst Pies in London". And I'm even trying to cut her a break -- Angela Lansbury defined that role, and she's who I hear in my head when I listen, but I was willing to give someone else a chance. When I first heard Carter's name, I thought it could be a bit of inspired casting -- provided she could sing. Yeah, well, I will now be going to the movie dreading her moments.

All I can hope is that she can bring something to the role besides her singing. Except that I really feel like Mrs. Lovett is almost a sweet woman who's a bit demented -- she clearly loves the boy and has a thing for Sweeney, and thinks they can all be a happy family of sorts, with a few murders thrown in here and there -- not a demented woman who's scary, which is how I think Carter will play it -- Bellatrix does Mrs. Lovett.

On the other hand, listening to Alan Rickman in "Pretty Woman" didn't upset me. Does he sound like an actor singing? Yes. But it doesn't annoy me. He sounds like Snape singing, which turns me into a giddy fan girl inside.

Of course, you can listen to "Green Finch" if you wish to torture yourself. I hated it in the production I saw, and I hate it here, too. And I have no idea who the girl is who sings it, only that she is slightly better than the soprano who sang it on my soundtrack.

So now I'll still see it opening weekend, but some of the air has been let out of the balloon for me. What do you guys think? Am I being too hard on her? Anyone agree with me?

While writing tonight I was suddenly struck by what a terrific little pop song is "When My Love Open The Door," from Pete Townsend's 1980 solo album, Empty Glass.

I'm told there's a version of the song in Dan In Real Life, which I've been meaning to see. That may be why it's on my mind.

Humming it to myself, screwing up the words, just totally in love with this silly little song tonight.

Here's the original version:

And an excellent cover by Rilo Kiley:

Led Zeppelin reunited.

Footage from last night's one-off show here.

Are they touring? No definitive word yet. But apparently they've still got the rock in them.

Soft rock star Dan Fogelberg died yesterday at the age of 56.

Fogelberg has become something of a cultural punchline since his heyday in the 70s and early 80s -- shorthand for immasculine soft rock. But even if you have no idea who he was, chances are you danced to his song "Longer" at a wedding somewhere along the way.

Last night, my husband and I and my cousin and her husband went to see Daughtry at War Memorial Auditorium. It was a blast -- while I loved the concert outdoors near Natty Greene's in March, this was a smaller venue, so it was a nice, more intimate concert.

The two opening bands weren't my favorites -- the first one (You Are I Am) was kind of meh and the second one (Midway State), while entertaining in spastic, overly earnest sort of way, I could have done without as well. The audience kind of sat there as well, unless they were getting up to go smoke, get beer or buy T-shirts.

As soon as Daughtry went on, everyone stood and remained standing the whole time, singing along and swaying or jumping, depending on the song. I'm pretty sure they did everything from the album, which made me happy, although I'm surprised they didn't end with "Home," given the location.

They also did a new one that Chris said he wrote while in Amsterdam, called "Back to Me." I really liked it, especially as he sang it while alone, in front of a scrim, with just a few lights shining on him.

They also did a long bit from "Paradise City," which I loved and everyone sang along to. They threw in some Johnny Cash and Motley Crue, too -- I suppose once they release a second album they won't need to throw in covers. I still really liked them, and I was a bit disappointed they didn't do some of the covers they did at the March concert -- I think that's why I liked Chris on Idol so much, that he threw his own spin on some classics.

There were some fun moments with the crowd, like when he jokingly told people to stop coming by his house and to stay off his lawn. At one point, he was throwing water bottles into the audience and he sidearmed one right into the auditorium wall accidentally, splashing water everywhere. A bunch of people left with towels and guitar picks as well.

There were some really cute young girls around us, maybe 10 or 11 years old, who were hardcore rocking out and singing the words to every song. (I remember being that passionate at my first concert when I was 11. New Kids on the Block. Don't laugh.)

Not so cute were the people two rows behind me who got into a loud argument I could hear over the song about who was shoving who, or the couple in my row who kept leaving during the concert. I didn't mind so much during the opening acts, but they left and came back during Daughtry, promising on their way in that it was the last time. So, what happens a couple songs later? They leave again. I must have shown my consternation pretty blatantly, as they waited for the song to end when they came back before crossing in front of us again. I don't go to a lot of concerts -- but if there isn't a concert etiquette, there should be, and leaving and returning to your seats in the middle of the row a bunch should be a concert foul.

Other concert fouls:
-- The person sitting next to my cousin who smelled strongly of beer and stale cigarettes and was loudly drunk.
-- The people we saw removed from the second or third row after it was clear they belonged much further back and had taken another couple's seats.
-- The $7 parking fee we had to pay to park in the Coliseum parking lot. It irritates me to no end that I have to pay a handling fee and convenience fee and whatever else, then a parking fee on top of all that. Our two tickets, billed as $30 each ($60 a pair), ended up costing us $94 and change, plus the $7 at the concert. (And trust me -- I know that $30 is a bargain compared to a lot of entertainers!)

Except for those incidents, overall it was a great night -- I love Daughtry, and I love Daughtry even more in concert. And if I were about 10 years younger, less tired and not as cold, I probably would have stuck around outside near his tour bus with the others -- I hope it was worth the wait and they got to see him!

P.S. Joey Barnes, why did you look like a Chippendale dancer, wearing nothing but a bow tie and a hat behind your drums?

I knew there was a reason I love Tori Amos. At her concert the other night in San Diego, a couple of girls in the front row kept getting up and walking in and out. So Tori does what anyone should do -- she tells them to "get the f--- out."

While playing "Code Red", Tori stopped and told them, "Get the f--- out of my show! It's a privilege to sit in the front row and I reserve those seats for people who appreciate music, get the f--- out!"

Fast forward to about 2:26.

Also, this is definitely one of the concert fouls I was talking about in my last post.

I'm listening to In the Future this morning -- the new album from bluesy psychedelic metal band Black Mountain.

Spin gave the album 3.5 stars, saying it "sounds like the man who fell to Earth -- only to land in the woods."

That's not far off.

Dig the opening "Stormy High" and "Lay Your Halo Down."

Rolling Stone gave the album 3.5 stars and featured the band in piece where they summed them up as "Black Sabbath + Flaming Lips + the munchies."

That's not a bad description either, but I think the band is less heavy and more boogie on this album than either review gives them credit for.

Local son Chris Daughtry is taking a swipe at the show that made him famous.

About 'American Idol,' from Rolling Stone:

"I feel like it's definitely lacking some credibility at this point," says Daughtry, who came in fourth place on the 2006 season but went on to sell 3.6 million copies of his debut record and be named one of Nielsen's top ten selling artists of 2007. "It's in a state of decline and if they don't do something about it, it's probably not gonna last too much longer. I'm sure that'll be used against me, but that's the truth, you know?"

He's right, though. Last season pretty much sucked, if you want my honest opinion. I didn't care who won, and I'm having a hard time even remembering many of the contestants. I watched the first episode or two of the season, but then I tuned out until they whittled it down to the top 24 or so -- there's only so many times you can watch someone screech Celine or Whitney, know what I mean? The occasional awful person is fine, but they just went overboard with the people who were clueless at auditions and the ones who were clearly there just to get on TV. Guess what, auditioners? It's no longer edgy to flip off the camera when you get the boot -- everyone does it.

I watched last night's 'Idol' this afternoon. (I never watch them live -- I have to be able to fast-forward through the recrap and pointless pauses for effect.) Maybe it's just me, but it was perceptibly better -- there were still some attention whores, but the guy who sang "No Sex Allowed" made up for that. As did the blond horse trainer at the end (I can't recall her name) who had a great voice.

But I agree with Daughtry -- I think it's on the way out. As soon as it veers back to people in Big Bird costumes and mocking people who are clearly handicapped (despite the pleas that they've changed), I'll tune out until the finals.