By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By Charles Lam
I could definitely come up with some other weak jokes for you, though.
Kelly Clarkson! Except her debut album scourged—the only word—from No. 52 to No. 1 on the Billboard charts in a matter of seconds, something accomplished before only by the Beatles ("Can't Buy Me Love"), who probably would have usurped Jesus for all time if American Idol had only been there to put them on TV every night for weeks; and they'd probably still be around now, benign but stern philosopher kings, each ruling absolutely over his own quadrant of the globe—certainly America would become the seat of Ringolandia—after rising from bums to rockers to rock stars to pop stars to cultural icons to figures of world import to demigods to globe-begirdling feudal lords and finally (on a cresting wave of base adoration) to pharaonic divinities-among-men. Which brings us back to Kelly: thank God there is only one of her, because we want to live free. At the UCI Bren Center.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 8
Massive Oakland hip-hop collective Hieroglyphics pile single file into a fully loaded tour bus: Del tha Funkee Homosapien and Souls of Mischief—'93 till infinity and counting—headline over new signee O.C. (not to be confused with anything else that has ever used those two letters, including the place, the TV show, the old soul singer and the chemical composition of carbon monoxide) and longtime collectivists Pep Love, Casual and Non Phixion and the Boom Bap Project. Great show at the Vault; gives Pine Avenue some class!
PLUS: Mysterious Low/Red House Painters side project the Retribution Gospel Choir at Detroit—they have yet to release a song but it's probably ska-punk. Or would be if they were truly as bitter and depressed as you might think and really wanted to inflict themselves on people. If they really wanted to scourge.
See Calendarlistings for club locations. Also: be smart; call ahead.