Aug. 11 - Aug. 18

ALSO: Chain Reaction swap meet: I'll trade you a Men At Work single and a Belinda Carlisle LP for one Dashboard Confessional hoodie and a Rufio promo CD because THEY ARE ALL THE SAME THING ANYWAY.

Bob Seger rules.

Call it the Great Rock & Roll Swindle, please, so people will remember how scary and smart the Sex Pistols were and keep reading. In February 2004 geriatro Mike Peters—you may remember him from his third-tier punkish rockoid band the Alarm about 1982, and you also may remember Billy Beer and Eastern Airlines, all of which shared massive success later—knocked out a poppy punk song called "45 RPM," then had a bunch of 18-year-olds lip-synch to the video and released it to the world as a poppy-punk song by 18-year-olds. So . . . it charted at #27, which it would never have done if the name "the Alarm" was attached to it because no one likes that band anymore. Which proved that, yes, the music industry is founded less on actual music than on panicked second-guessing to satisfy the worthless tastes of spoiled adolescents—the fake Alarm's influences included "the Pistols, the Clash, the Buzzcocks, Rancid, Less Than Jake and Good Charlotte," as well as eyeliner, hair gel and never reading lyrics sheets, and also never reading—and that no, no one wants to invest any money in a bunch of 44-year-olds who sound like Rancid and Good Charlotte. It's sad that legit musicians had to waste time on frat pranks, and it's sadder that "45 RPM" was such a cheeseball song regardless, and sadder even ever after that it charted anyway. Breaking news: no one's ever gone poor selling shit back to assholes. Here's the same lecture the frat would have got: with these kinds of pranks, no one looks good. Why can't you be more like De La Soul? Mike stands alone at the HOB.

ALSO: Poppy cheeseball? Don't mind if I Jamison Parker at Chain; Bad Dudes and Neon Lipstick and This Blush rock & roll all nite and Weimar Republic every day at the Blue Café.

Hip-hop Smashpop Collective takes over the Blue Café to confine you within an iron cage of funk; Stitches guitarist Johnny Witmer and TKO Records check-signer Mark take over Alex'sBar to confine you within a rusting cage of punk—Johnny has a bottomless pit stacked with the most serious vinyl ever, so don't do anything sudden.

Backstreet Boys joke next week at Verizon Wireless, and just leave me alone until then, okay?

See Calendarlistings for club locations. Also: be smart; call ahead.

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