Smashing Pumpkins smash profits

The Smashing Pumpkins are suing Virgin Records.

The band claims that the record label is using their name illegally in advertising and promotions with Amazon.com and Pepsi, and that these marketing attempts are detrimental to the band's credibility.

According to the Associated Press, the lawsuit demands the profits of the promotions and an injunction against any further use of the band's name or music in cross-advertising.

Virgin Records has owned the rights to the band's songs and released them for the past 17 years. The Smashing Pumpkins have an agreement with Virgin to release digital copies of their records, but claim in the suit that there is no permission granted to tie the band's music with any other merchandise.

The band would "never grant such authority to Virgin, or any other entity."

Essentially, the Smashing Pumpkins feel they're being sold out, and they don't like it. This is a refreshing change from the insane cross-promotional deals of so many acts. Remember when the Spice Girls had their own bubble gum? While tasty, it really did nothing to further the arts.


*By Jess, who has an unhealthy obsession with Medieval Times.

Your new favorite band

Let Me Run just got signed to XOXO Records. If you like Springsteen, The Gaslight Anthem, drinking, love, dancing, seedy bars, basements, having fun, and beards, this band is for you--and for Lou Diamond of the Court Tavern, who deemed them the next big thing.

We think you'll agree.


Travis (vocals, guitar, padlock connoisseur):





Corey (guitar, background vocals, white chocolate fan):




Christian (drums, wise man):




Louis (bass, background vocals, twin):





*By Jess, who was mean to guitarist Corey Perez in elementary school, but cherishes him dearly now and owes him white chocolate chip cookies.

What I've been pondering this week:

1. Why in God's (or Allah's, or Brahman's, or whichever tickles your fancy) name is Route 18 still under construction?
Seriously. What is the objective and when will it be reached? Getting to South Jersey is absolutely horrifying, and while Joelle will probably say that it's like that with my driving regardless (I really am not that bad), when lanes are barely wider than my hips (okay, bad example), let alone my fucking car, it's really, really, nervewracking. My knuckles looked like fat little snowflakes on my steering wheel last night when I went to see two bands you should check out--Dear Ulysses and The Peasantry (they even share members, isn't that precious?). They have the hardest working manager in the biz, too. I was glad to say that they were well worth the trek to Long Branch. The show was definitely more killer than the drive there, and well, that's a lot of killing. That's like Jack the Ripper (hi Spitalfield reference!) meets the Zodiac meets Catherine of friggin' Bathory, dude.

2. How cool would it be if it actually rained men?
This actually crossed my mind as I was driving and singing along to the sequel to this song (because everything on radio around here sucks more than a hundred Hoovers and Kirby's--except this guy, who owns your face), which features a cameo by RuPaul--amazing. But really--I would turn my umbrella upside down for sure. And I already jump in puddles, so this would be even more enjoyable. But how would they fall? Would they start out as little droplets and then grow upon hitting ground or what? Because if one is clumsy, this could be really dangerous and messy, too. A chance I'm willing to take, mind you. I'll pray for rises in humidity and drops in barometric pressure for as long as it takes... And invest in a really big bucket to keep outside, one which wouldn't attract West Nile and mosquitoes when left out overnight.

3. Why does the Court Tavern staff insist on keeping that hundred year old dirtbag at the door?
What a douche, seriously. I've encountered plenty of rude, bitter people in my life, but none that get paid to be as such (Elizabeth Hasselbeck not withstanding). Luckily, being a youngin', I didn't have to deal with him much when I went to see the Love Trilogy for drummer Ahmed's birthday. They had cool lighting effects and do one mean "Voodoo Chile" cover--and they're in Brunswick all the time, so check them out when you can. Also fun was getting a Big Bird cupcake shoved in my face that subsequently fell a bit further South. I was still picking yellow sprinkles out of my cleavage the next morning. All in a day's work.

4. How long is it going to take you to realize that this is my way of band product placement?
Wink wink, nudge nudge.


*By Jess, who reads propaganda like it's pulp fiction.

New Brunswick gets a heavy friggin' dose rock n' roll (and vivacity!)

There are few bands in this world worth an hour-plus stint of hiding in a cramped, cobwebbed, minimally sanitary public restroom stall for.

(Think I'm lying? I played tic-tac-toe on the wall to keep entertained. This was the first game I've won in a while, and I think my opponent just gave me a mercy victory anyway:)




Two such bands are Perfuma,

who debuted their supertall new bassist, Tucker (formerly of the Pennyroyals),

and Hero Pattern, who, as usual, owned the audience (and were quite guyvacious, which is like "vivacious," only without the feminine gender bias):

While I'm on the subject of "guyvacity," I would like to say that the man exiting the women's restroom last night as I was entering not only confused the daylights out of me, but also left the seat up and didn't flush. One of the three offenses is permissible, but gimme a break, dude. I don't know who this fellow was, but if he is reading this, I hope he knows that is repulsive, rude, and subject to castration herein.

Oh yeah, I went there.

*By Jess, who is grateful for the free Shirley Temple granted to her last night, and who is working on six hours of sleep in the last three days and therefore apologizes for a probable lack of coherence in this entry.