Too Much Love

I know it's been over a week since I've typed at you folks. (Believe me, I have been reminded by various characters here at the AP Skyscrapers. My derision of blogging has been immortalized on the gremlin of the latest issue.) I figure if you're going to read this thing, there should be something of some merit here. You know, like a plug for an unknown band or me venting on some haughty bastard who did AP wrong: The same stuff I chastise faceless chumps on the internet about, except, well, my name's on the damn thing. Sorry. I got nothin'.

I can tell you that my trip to Los Angeles to participate in the Guitar Center Sessions event was pretty damn wonderful. GC promotions majordomo Dustin Hinz put together a sweet program, making sure all of the participants were comfortable, especially the fat, balding jamoke from Cleveland. My hat goes off to Dustin, his "enforcer" James Yeo and all of the GC staff for coolness above and beyond the call of duty. I wish I had some filth for you, like stories of me doing lines of Ajax cleanser off the headstock of a Les Paul autographed by Jimmy Page, or sneaking away from the shop to audition working girls over at the Seventh Veil. All I've got is watching Max Bemis squirm in the green room because he desperately wanted to go to his favorite comic book store (located across the street), but he had to do press for the event. Remember in elementary school, how much you had to twitch around before the teacher finally let you go to the restroom? Max was just like that. (His manager let him sneak out for 20 minutes and Max came back with a big ol' bag of stuff.) Other than Max doing some caged-animal moves that would make Michael J. Fox say, "Dude, what's wrong with you," and seeing what I'm pretty sure was the original Flux Capacitor from the Back To The Future movies, I got nothing.

The panel itself was a pretty spirited event, with the new-skool types (Bemis and Story Of The Year guitarist Phil Sneed) exchanging anecdotes and attitudes with the old guard (Kevin Lyman, Brett Gurewitz, Joe Escalante and Tom Delonge). During the panel, I kept thanking Max for calling out all of the "cookie cutter music that's happening now," because if I say that stuff, I look like the prick, by virtue of what I do for a living. I did see Lyman start to lose his cool when some dudes in the crowd told him how some nefarious types were running "a Warped-sanctioned battle-of-the-bands contest" for a place on this year's tour. (Keep in mind, this false scam had nothing to do with Ernie Ball, who own that particular Warped-branded event.) Thanks to those dudes in the crowd, Lyman would have had no knowledge about it.

It's times like that when it's apparent that punk rock is all about community. Yeah, the internet allows a forum for bitchiness to sweep across the planet, but the people who actually make things happen for themselves (and other people) are the ones who replenish the scene. It's a point several panelists brought up: Bands need to team up as psychic foxhole buddies in a business that's pretty fecking rudderless right now. (Sadly, I didn't get a chance to drop a reference to the grind-polka scene coming out of Sylmar, California.) At the end of the Q&A session, I had a good feeling everyone in the crowd were going to do good things, even if it meant some of those attendees would sell their gear on eBay and do something else with their lives.

I guess I got something after all.

PS. Heard the new Underoath album while in L.A. The operative word: Relentless.