Some of us who know Savannah also know that music is a mainstay in her bloodline. Savannah bares a striking resemblance to her father Garland. When standing next to one another, the familial relation becomes quite obvious. Having been a close friend and fan of Savannah’s since we met, I leapt at the opportunity to meet and speak with her father. As I came to learn, the beauty of their relationship as father and daughter and as musicians adheres to the principle that music transcends sound by connecting people from different generations and backgrounds through common emotions and values.

Savannah’s father Garland was raised in Sheepshead Bay Brooklyn. Born in 1943, Garland grew up witnessing one of the fastest changing periods in musical history. During Garland’s birth year, the Billboard charts were topped by the likes of jazz-pop standard artists such as Bing Crosby and Harry James and in 1961 when Garland was 18 Elvis Presley topped the charts. Perhaps growing up with this musical revolution was what granted Garland his eclectic taste and style.

As a young boy he recalled being brought up listening to jazz artists such as Count Basie, Duke Ellington, and he expressed a special love for Billie Holiday. Garland went so far as to describe jazz as “the soundtrack of our lives,” for himself, his family, his friends and his generation at large. As a young boy, inspired by artists that his parents and the times introduced him to, Garland became even more inspired by many of the street-corner performers from his neighborhood.

Garland’s love for music began when he was four years old. While growing up he would often sing for fun which he revealed would later be an activity that he and his daughter would do  together. As he explained, he was pushed towards an academic career, achieving a degree in Art History, specializing in the art of the Italian Renaissance from Syracuse University Though he loved art, it didn’t call to him the way music did. Garland laughed as he told me, “My father wanted me to into political science. I don’t even think he knew what it was.” So as Garland prepared to move on to graduate school, he decided to put his heart and soul into his music and work towards making that his career, or as he put it, “I was headed to graduate school and the music really started calling me.”

His experiences with both jazz and blues to rock and roll growing up have had a strong impact on his style and influence as a musician. He was influenced by musicians ranging from Charlie Mingus and John Coltrane to Bob Dylan and The Beatles. Being 17 years old as the 1960s began, Garland claimed he was “like a sponge” all throughout possibly the most revolutionary time period in the history of western music and musical culture. In college, the friendship that Garland developed with Lou Reed, who was at the time just a peer of Garland’s, proved to be crucial as Reed helped put Garland on to the folk and rock music as it was coming up, which played a huge role in the development of the sound that became Garland Jeffreys’. Listening to Garland’s music, one can easily see the impact that jazz, rock and folk music had on Garland as a musician and a person. The reason he has been so successful is that he did not simply copy and pay homage to these genres, he used them to create his own sound, his own vibe.

As Garland’s dream of being a musician became a reality, he opened himself up to all styles. Bob Marley even said that Garland Jeffreys is the only American musician that truly understands Reggae music. Even though music is an art, it is also a business and in order to have the ability to be creative, you need to be able to support yourself financially. In 1973, Garland released the single “Wild in the Streets” on Atlantic Records. This single, which he called, his first rock tune, really brought him fame and success that he hadn’t experienced in his career. The success that Garland had as a songwriter who was able to express himself and developed a following of fans who could identify with his music pushed him to keep playing and keep evolving.

The conversation that I had with Garland proved to be incredibly enlightening for me, not just because of my interest in his musical career, but because of my friendship with his daughter and my hopes of eventually becoming the kind of father who can connect with his children the way Garland connects with Savannah. During our conversation, Garland said to me, “Music is the thing.” This seems like a simple and general statement, but it made sense to me, supporting my hopes that Garland and I had managed to find common ground in our values.  Music has the power to change the times and to connect absolutely anyone and this fundamental truth has motivated Garland his whole career and as father. The proof is in the connection that has been established between Garland and his music as well as between Garland and Savannah.

Garland has stated very clearly that when it comes to Savannah, “I don’t try to push her or force her to be a musician or follow me,” but it seems like the music runs through the Jeffreys’ veins. In retrospect, Garland Jeffreys has had a truly great career. He has played his music around the world for adoring fans and often times alongside brilliant musicians. It is clear that Garland will never lose his passion and desire to play music, but something tells me he wouldn’t mind just sitting back and watching his daughter achieve all he could have ever wanted and more. If there is one thing I learned about Garland through our interactions it’s that he is a great, passionate musician, but he is an even greater and more passionate father.

She’s still inclined towards lyrics about perfect boyfriends, awful boyfriends, unrequited love, and social awkwardness. But since she began to identify as a feminist shortly before the release of “Best Friend,” Kate Nash has infused her music with a feminist sensibility, both in its lyrical confidence and stronger sound influenced by the Riot Grrrl feminist punk movement of the ’90s.

With her new “Death Proof” EP, Kate Nash has developed that sensibility, and produced some of her best work so far.

The EP’s opening and titular track, “Death Proof,” features detached, frequently spoken vocals reminiscent of Lana Del Rey, but more acerbic and less bland. The fuzzy bassline is loud and prominent, and, paired with surf guitar, evokes a breezy, “Miserlou” vibe.

“Fri-End?” and “I Want a Boyfriend (With a Car)” liven up the vocals, mixing the sweet singing of “Made of Bricks” with yelled chants and screeches. Speedy punk rock guitars and snappy lyrics keep the tracks fast-paced and energetic.

Nash follows up these tracks with a cover of “All Day and All of the Night,” by The Kinks, alternating between a slow chant of the verses with little backup other than drums that convey far more actual longing than the original and choruses that largely stick to the poppy style of the Kinks version.

The final song on Death Proof, “May Queen,” is much slower than the rest of the EP. Kate Nash’s more melodic “Made of Bricks” vocals make an appearance again, wedged in the ethereal, hypnotic drone of an organ. The song brings some variety in tempo and instrumentation to the EP, but still proves that whether Kate Nash is singing or screaming her heart out, her music will always deliver.

GOSSIP GIRL

As the characters of “Gossip Girl” grow up and their relationships become further entangled, it is difficult to even comprehend that such a complicated social network could ever exist. The various scandals are strained and redundant and it seems almost impossible that everyone cares about “Manhattan’s elite.” Perhaps the show’s one redeeming quality is its ability to find new songs from artists who are already established but often forgotten.

“Gossip Girl” successfully features songs that reveal another vocal side of artists we may already know and love. Feist, for example, is best known for her 2007 song “1234” with its upbeat tune and sweet melody. Now, five years later, “Gossip Girl” introduces us to some of her some of her latest works, such as “Graveyard.” We hear a deeper and more serious tone to Feist’s voice; the guitar harmonies in the song complement her own raspy tone perfectly. The delicateness of the vocals is reminiscent of her earlier songs, but in “Graveyard” it contributes to a sense of loneliness and hope of finding life in a graveyard.

Charlotte Gainsbourg is best known for her whisper-like singing with dreamlike qualities. “Gossip Girl,” however, features one of her more upbeat songs, “Paradisco,” which would have easily been overlooked among her other slow-moving ones. Though the words are almost indistinguishable, the fast pace and mysterious tune filled with echoes and harmonies make the song more suitable for dancing than sleeping.

Other songs to check out:

·         “Heartlines” by Florence & the Machine

·         “We are So Alive Tonight” by Wild Future

PRETTY LITTLE LIARS

“Pretty Little Liars” benefits from the fact that it is a mystery that hooks its viewers’ attentions with new clues on the murder of Allison. However, after three seasons, I’m starting to lose track of all of the clues and find it hard to care who “A” really is. Luckily, the alternative/pop music from lesser-known artists rarely disappoints.

Unlike many of the pop tunes featured in “Pretty Little Liars,” “The Riot’s Gone” by Santigold is more alternative in sound in that it brings to mind tribal music with its prominent percussion section and instrumentals. Santigold’s fluid voice builds up to her laments of “trying to lose the world inside, but it’s got no place to go.” The song culminates in a release from her echoing cries and its soothing effect leaves us with nothing less than catharsis.

Other songs to check out:

·         “Unwanted” by The Strange Familiar

·         “Worry About You” by 2am Club

·         “All Those Pretty Lights” by Andrew Belle

SKINS UK

With a new generation every two seasons, it is often hard to move on because of our love for the original cast. By season five and six, not only are we left feeling detached from the characters, but their problems have also become little more than repeats of those from previous seasons. These misfits are so extreme and different that, realistically, they would never want to be around each other. However, each episode features new alternative or indie songs from lesser-known artists with beautiful instrumentals and harmonies.

Perhaps the most moving song ever featured on “Skins UK” is “Don’t Be Afraid, You’re Already Dead” by Akron/Family. Despite the minimalistic lyrics (only four lines) and simple instrumentals, the song communicates a sense of loneliness through its haunting tune. The slow pace, harmonies, deep and vibrating vocals, and troubling lyrics combine to create a song that not only demands our attention and understanding but is also beautiful to listen to time and again.

Other songs to check out:

·         “Wild World” by Cat Stevens

·         “It’s All Over” by The Broken Family Band

·         “Daylight” by Matt & Kim

Mika’s first two albums, “Life in Cartoon Motion” (2007) and “The Boy Who Knew Too Much” (2009), centered around childhood and adolescence, respectively, and he has stated in interviews that “The Origin of Love” focuses on adulthood. Fittingly, “Life in Cartoon Motion,” which featured “Grace Kelly,” his most famous song to date, was the quirkiest, with nonsensical lyrics and bubblegum videos. “The Boy Who Knew Too Much” featured more ballads and piano, and had a gentler, angstier vibe than its predecessor. However, though Mika promised “The Origin of Love” would be “a serious album, but still [have] the boppy, happy tunes” in an interview with DigitalSpy, the album often comes across as shallow.

Throughout the album, Mika incorporates electronic beats and sounds. On some tracks, such as “Celebrate” and “Emily,” it works—they sound fun and upbeat, and marry perfectly his indie flair with his new, pop-tastic sound. “Emily,” in fact, is an English version of his French single “Elle Me Dit,” and his voice is hyper-processed, giving his unique vocals a new spin with a digitized coat. However, on others, such as “Overrated,” it’s less effective—the song is plenty enjoyable, but much more forgettable.

One standout, “Popular Song,” is Mika’s take/remix of the song “Popular” from the musical “Wicked.” This song has many rhythmically spoken sections, near-rapped, and lilts over a piano-plunked rendition of the original tune (as well as the original lyrics). It’s fresh and clever, and makes the original cutesy Broadway tune sassy and edgy.

However, plenty of songs harken back to his roots: musical glitz. The opening track, “Origin of Love,” is anthemic, exclaiming “You’re the origin of love!” His ballads, thankfully, allow his incredible voice—he has a range of three to four octaves—to take center stage. “Make You Happy,” the closing track, digitizes the chorus but otherwise lets him shine, as he pours emotion into a tale of trying to fix somebody with, as kitschy as it may seem, the power of love. Another star, “Love You When I’m Drunk,” certainly features more adult themes; it revolves around being unfaithful to a lover because, as the title suggests, he only loves her when he’s inebriated. The song’s tonal dissonance is classic Mika, who is fond of putting downers of lyrics over the most peppy, happy melodies.

Not taking risks would be anathema to Mika. He’s been compared to Freddie Mercury, and his albums consistently receive polarizing reviews. Now, dance songs reign supreme on the charts, so it’s no surprise he takes some of their qualities. What makes Mika, Mika, is his ability to add electronic layers and synthetic beats to his songs and still retain his individual sound. Children grow into teens, and teens into adults, and Mika’s music grows from campy to emotional to dance, but just as a person’s character stays largely the same, Mika never loses his intrinsic, eccentric self.

Headed by vocalist and guitarist Nai Palm, the group calls itself disciples of “Future Soul,” whatever that means. The band is rounded out with keyboardist Simon Mavin, Paul Bender on bass/laptop, and drummer Perrin Moss.

Songs like album-opener “Mobius Streak” broach the question of genre that the entire LP seems to challenge. The group’s music seems to constantly walk the line between good old-fashioned bandstration–raw with the feel of a live performance–and electronica. Of all genres of electronic music, downtempo particularly comes to mind, with its hypnotic and heavily emphasized beats.

“Tawk Tomahawk” is an album that particularly rewards the active listener. Its recording quality is phenomenal, all parts singing with clarity; this is a great victory, especially for an entirely self-produced debut. The musical composition itself is dense–tracks bear an incredible amount of layers and textures. Drum machine clacks pair with tasteful drumming by Moss; Marvin’s piano and synth work provides room for tinkering with sound parameters, and ambient whirrs and other miscellaneous percussive samples fill out the mix.

That’s not to say that the instrumental work is to be ignored: the bass is laid out appropriately sparsely, in a way that is both groovy and classy. Bender serves out a precise low end that maintains a justifiably prominent spot in the mix. Palm’s guitaring, too, fits in just right. Her jazzy chords serve as lily-pads in the murky pond of funk the listener has the pleasure of navigating. Rhythmic head-bobbing is obligatory.

Palm’s singing provides another equally captivating musical element. Album closer “Nakamarra” shows her off at her most relaxed, as she drifts between the changes with plenty of variety in her phrasing, warbly and gospel-like. In other songs, her singing can be breathy and somewhat restrained. No syllable is superfluous, as in “Malika,” where each of her words is delivered with impressive calculation. However, it is on “Lace Skull” that her performance seems most powerful; her usual rawness yields an unforseen dimension of somberness and painful fervor. Her words evoke urgency, understanding, closure. Songwriters, take note– this is how you write a proto-ballad.

However, the albums remains marred with a major shortcoming: there is not enough of it. Tracks like “Ocelot,” with its oddly paced six-step beat, seem to end too early. The same can be said for “Boom Child,” which also clocks in under a minute and a half. Fortunately, the  track is pretty terrific, so the offense is mostly forgiven. “Rainbow Rhodes” and “Sphynx Gate” run the danger of the same flaw, ending up more as sketches of songs than fully rounded pieces. But the potential, even when cut short, is there.

Keep an eye out for this band. Talent like this doesn’t pop up every day.

Danny Kalb is not a musician known by the masses, but he is considered by many acclaimed critics and music buffs to be one of America’s most defining guitar players of his generation. When I went to interview Kalb in his tiny apartment in Park Slope, I expected a larger-than-life character to greet me at the door. But it turned out that as a nearly 70-year-old man from Mount Vernon, New York, Danny Kalb could not have been more relatable to me. He grew up with one sibling in a middle-class, reformed, Jewish household, just like me. However, when I began to delve into his upbringing and the progression of his life with him, I learned that our stories are very different.

Kalb was raised in a radical communist household, establishing an extremely abnormal upbringing. As a result of the strong connection between the communist party and the genre of music in the 1950s, primarily known throughout the African-American community as the blues, Danny’s life quickly became centered around music.

At age 13, Kalb started playing the guitar and, as he recalled, during high school, he first became interested in rock and roll when Elvis Presley “made it happen.” However, though Kalb appreciated and enjoyed the newborn rock and roll, he always believed himself to be a blues and folk musician. During his high school years, Kalb started to realize that music was not just a hobby, but also a dream. He fell in love with the notion of expressing himself through rock and roll, folk, and blues music the way Elvis had.

Kalb attended one-and-a-half years of college at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. Throughout college, Kalb played small venues there to keep himself involved in his music and pursue his dream the best he could.  Danny recalled to me that one night, a young man approached him and complimented him on his performance. This young man introduced himself as Robert Zimmerman, but would later come to be known as Bob Dylan. Bob, as Danny called him, stayed the night at Danny’s dorm and told him that he should go back east and pursue his dream.

Heavily influenced by his new friend and by his desire to play music for large audiences, Kalb left the University of Wisconsin early and returned to the east coast, where he formed the band that would come to define him in years to come, The Blues Project. The peak of Kalb’s musical career would be with this band, selling 400,000 copies of the first and most successful of their three studio albums, “Projections.” Having listened to “Projections” beginning to end several times, I have heard tracks whose style is reminiscent of The Doors and Creedence Clearwater Revival, among others. But when I asked Danny if these artists influenced the album, he told me that those songs had been written before anybody knew who The Doors and Creedence Clearwater Revival were. Danny, through his guitar, had fused blues, folk, and rock-and-roll styles and contributed to the creation of a new sound that was just beginning to form at the time.

During this period of musical success, Kalb had some experiences of which most can only dream. One of the most incredible memories that Danny recalled was playing a show with famous blues legends, Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker, along with folk legend and future Woodstock headliner, Richie Havens. On another occasion, Kalb spent 30 minutes on stage, playing alongside Jimi Hendrix. Kalb described Hendrix as “nothing short of godly.”

However, Danny’s musical career took a turn for the worst when he suffered the first of four nervous breakdowns that he would have over the course of his life. Because of his constant struggles with depression and severe anxiety, he lost The Blues Project and struggled to support himself off of his music.

Kalb never achieved the success of his friends Bob Dylan or Jimi Hendrix. He suffered for many years and was often unable to follow through on his dreams. Kalb would admit that he has made mistakes and often times been the victim of horrible circumstances, but he is a man who is proud of his accomplishments and contributions to the music industry.

As the interview came to a conclusion after several hours, I realized that it had been an enlightening experience for me as a music fan and writer. I had always believed that the “rock gods” such as Hendrix and Dylan were the ones who “made it happen,” but after my time with Danny, my mindset changed. I came to understand that he is just one of many talented, dedicated musicians who contributed to the rock-and-roll movement and then slipped through the cracks.

Danny had a stroke two months prior to our interview and had difficulty moving around when I met him. However, he insisted that he take out his guitar and play for me. He played me a song that conveyed the simplicity and the smoothness that had made his talent so obvious to those around him. When he finished playing I was in awe. I asked him who wrote that, thinking it must have been John Lee Hooker or some blues legend like that, but he just smiled at me and said, “That one’s all mine.” As the interview concluded, I asked him to sum his life up; all the success mixed with all the failure. He simply said, “God has been in my corner.”

For Bruce, it has been little over two years since his release of “Working on a Dream” in 2009. As for the remaining half of the chart-topping Lennon/ McCartney duo, this new album, “Kisses on the Bottom,” is his first since 2003. McCartney’s album brings his listeners back in time with covers of jazzpop standards out of The Great American Songbook and only two songs of his own. On the other hand, Springsteen’s new album, “Wrecking Ball,” returns to The Boss’s classic critique of human nature and juxtaposes it with the glory of the “good ol’ days” of love and passion in the heart of New Jersey.

Though “Wrecking Ball” is one of the better albums that Springsteen has released in a while, it doesn’t even compare to the megaliths of his 20thcentury canon: “Born to Run” (1976), “Greeting From Asbury Park” (1975), and “Born in the USA” (1980). I will say, however, that it most certainly surpasses “Devils & Dust” (2006), “Magic” (2007), and “Working on a Dream” (2009), his only three studios albums released since 2002’s “The Rising,” written in honor of 9/11.

When Springsteen was at his finest in the 1970s and 1980s, he was incredibly intouch with the voice of the workingman, and he was able to convey that sentiment in his lyrics. However, when he split from his former and current band, the E Street Band, in the late 1990s and entered a brief period of releasing albums with studio musicians until 2008, his lyrics began to sound like condescending preaching. With “Wrecking Ball,” Bruce returns to the relatable style that made him one of the world’s most popular artists.

The clear influence of Bruce’s folk-music hero Pete Seeger is evident with tracks like “Death to My Hometown” and “Shackled and Drawn,” both of which incorporate strong workingman’s lyrics combined with heavy Irish-folk instrumentals. The Boss also brings two of his older songs, “Wrecking Ball” and “Land of Hope and Dreams,” to the studio for the first time. Springsteen debuted “Wrecking Ball” at his final concert at the old Giants’ Stadium as a send-off of sorts. The song is a remarkable guitar-driven track with an expanded horn section, in addition to the well-known Springsteen saxophone. It explores the notion that as time goes on, things change, but it is important to maintain a strong sense of self. “Land of Hope and Dreams” had been originally recorded live during a concert in 2001 at Madison Square Garden, and 11 years later, Springsteen finally brought it to the studio.

After losing his saxophone player and dear friend Clarence Clemons last year, “Wrecking Ball” turned out to be a much needed win for The Boss.

McCartney’s album, on the other hand, is largely unsatisfying. Though it is reassuring to hear the rock legend’s voice once again after so many years, he does not do himself justice. It seems as though, instead of playing to his songwriting ability, McCartney used his incredible amount of pull in the music industry to release his passion project to the public.

And though McCartney deserves some credit for the majority of the arrangements and musicianship that went into the album, he did receive some help from guitarist Eric Clapton. Clapton brings an immense amount of soul and patience with his acoustic guitar riffs on “My Valentine,” in particular.

Out of the abundance of mundane covers that seem to chalk up to not much more than a mediocre Tony Bennett impression, the highlight of McCartney’s album would have to be his cover of “Bye Bye Blackbird,” a song that represents love and the sad goodbyes that often come along with it. This track uses a slow swinging rhythm to give it elements of a jazz tune, as well as a ballad. The string section is in harmony with the clear piano riffs to accentuate this feel.

It is undeniable that Paul McCartney deserves the utmost respect, but at 69 years of age, having spent his life revolutionizing music and reaching audiences worldwide, it may just be time for him to hang up his mic.

These two now-elderly rock legends definitely took chances with their recent releases, but only Bruce really succeeded. However, in a modern era that lacks true musicianship, songwriting ability, and overall passion, it is sort of nice to hear from the guys who really know how it’s done. There is no need to question the success or musicianship of either of these men, at ages 62 and 69, but in their ever-changing musical journeys which will seemingly be culminating in the not-sodistant future, it seems that they will keep trying until they have nothing left.

Odd Future’s show on Tuesday, March 20, at the Hammerstein Ballroom was a testament to just how big the group has become. Unlike the group’s first show in New York at Webster Hall in 2010, at which the number of rappers in the collective outnumbered the audience members, this show left little to be desired—the standing area was filled to capacity, and the hall’s balconies were lined with screaming fans clad in the band’s apparel.

The show began with an extended preview for the group’s new sketch comedy show, titled “Loiter Squad,” that premiered on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim in early March. Produced by Dickhouse—the same company that put together “Jackass”—the show channels the collective’s freewheeling and, at times, raunchy sense of humor, calling to mind programs like “Wonder Showzen” and “Tim & Eric’s Awesome Show.”

After a brief DJ set by the group’s own Syd, the whole collective trickled onto stage. The 21-year-old Tyler, The Creator fits his role as the group’s frontman, already a seasoned performer from his rapid rise to fame. Clad in a tie-dye shirt and Supreme cap, he resembled a skater more than a rapper, and, in the midst of stomping around on stage, somewhat of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Despite Tyler’s dominating presence, the group’s dynamic was one of a family more than of a band. Members of their posse freely walked on and off stage, often exiting via stage dive. Each rapper took a bit of solo time, mirroring the structure of the band’s recorded material that is not so much a set of group songs as it is a compilation of individual hits. And stage antics followed suit—a lightsaber-wielding Mike G rapped his version of Jay Z’s “A Million and 1 Questions” while the rest of the group punctuated the song with mob yells. There is never a calm moment on stage, and appropriately so.

Interaction kept the energy high, onstage and off. Like they were part of a 1970’s punk band, some members of the Odd Future crew hurled water bottles at rabid fans; others jumped with reckless abandon onto the crowd itself. A crowdsurfing Left Brain returned onto the stage unscathed, but the American flag umbrella he dove in with was lost as spoils— the crowd tore it to pieces, leaving security guards to wrestle back its metal frame and return the remaining fabric to concert goers demanding souvenirs.

The whole band showed their humorous side with a brief reprise to what they claimed was a brand-new song. Rousing up the packed hall, they managed to get the crowd to sing along with to a chorus of “Who keeps [defecatin’] in the tub? Wash your ass, Mr. Steve.” With Odd Future, sadistic and vulgar humor reigns supreme, and the audience loves it, yelling back each word.

However, surprisingly enough, the sentimentality was there as well. The crowd shared a tender moment with sporadic member Frank Ocean, who took to an onstage organ and briefly serenaded the audience. The number was a brief departure from the group’s usual devil-may-care attitude. Ocean’s soulful crooning had a hypnotizing effect on the fanatical crowd.

But perhaps the true highlight of the evening was the appearance of Earl Sweatshirt. The 18-year-old rapper, whose penchant for complex and lyrical rhymes is difficult to ignore, made his debut with the group after being away at a Samoan reform school for at-risk youth. After an emotional on-stage embrace with the rest of the band, he dove into the performance as if he had been there since the very beginning. Earl played the role with few seams to show, matching the energy of his best friend Tyler, and the crowd buzzed with a heightened enthusiasm, rejoicing at the long-awaited completeness of the group.

While the band’s lyrical matter and outward image is frightening to some—the group often ends their shows with a chant of profanities referring to murder, arson, and resistance to formal education (in much earthier terms, of course), and the music video for Tyler’s hit “Yonkers” shows him eating a cockroach, subsequently retching, and eventually hanging himself—the band offstage is surprisingly different. Members of the group stood around, still hopped up on the electric energy of a successful concert, some making enthusiastic conversation, others calmly smoking joints. A rambunctious Jasper Dolphin took pleasure in trashing the green room, flipping over a refreshment table with angry shouts of “Where the hummus at?”

Minus the threatening facade, the group bears signs of gratefulness. Closing the show, a drained but still-smiling Tyler told the crowd, “Thanks to all you punk mother[expletive deleted] that came out tonight, even if you don’t [expletive deleted] with us.”—a foul mouthed esprit de corps, perhaps, but one fit for such a distinguished group.