Written by : Eric Sperrazza

The mid-sixties gave the world mind-bending psychedelic rock, a style of music meant best to be enjoyed on some variation of a vision quest, utilizing new experimental recording techniques, sound effects, and elongated rhythmic solos. Later, John Lydon (the once and future Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols.) would take experimental sounds, synthesizing chords, and various styles to the next level with his band, Public Image Ltd. Pil, as it is affectionately referred to, would be credited for ushering in the industrial rock revolution of the 90’s, giving us legendary acts such as Nine Inch Nails, KMFDM, and Stabbing Westward. But what if you took the immersive journey that was psychedelic rock and you combined it with a dark industrial sound…all while sending it down a dark alley after last call? You would have the two-man group known as Mind Control System.

In 2020, friends Kev McGuire (vocals, guitar, electronics, samples, saxophone)  and Dave Robinson (synths, drums, guitar, bass, backing vocals, samples) would join forces in Manchester to form Mind Control System. Both with history playing with bands going back to the 80’s, they finally would begin recording what would become their collective debut album, Black Acid. With four tracks to speak of, there is close to a 40-minute journey you embark on through a labyrinth of sound, consumed in an ambience of anxiety. From the opening track, “Pulse,” you are lifted off on a speed-laden roller coaster ride that takes you deep into the foggy annals of your own thoughts, convincing you that you are hearing what bad decisions sound like. At times it is darkly curious and other times it feels violently sexual. And yet, before it’s all said and done, you are gently placed back to where you started and oddly feeling complete.

If you like audible psychedelic experiences, you need to hear this album. If you like Progressive Rock, you need to hear this album. If you like German industrial, you need to hear this album. Most of all, if you are tired of the same cookie-cutter bullshit the algorithms and Top 40 stations are trying to force-feed you, you owe it to yourself to hear this album.

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Written By: Eric Sperrazza | Photographed By: Christina Cosenza

There are some bands that, to truly know them, you must see live. Take KISS as an example; they were on the verge of losing their record deal because, although they played sold-out shows on the road, they simply couldn’t move albums. Then, “KISS: Alive!” debuted. An album that truly captured the audible experience of the band’s tour de force performance, it stands as one of their best-selling albums to this day. The same can be said for bands like The Ramones or Queen. You truly can’t understand their brilliance until you’ve seen them perform in person. Today, another band can be officially added to that list, and that band is Taking Back Sunday.

Taking Back Sunday was birthed in 1999 on Long Island, New York. Living neatly between the lines of post-hardcore and emo punk, you could feel the strings snapping on their guitars with their hard-hit chords, all while their lyrics dripped with passion. Their debut album,  Tell All Your Friends, became a must-own LP in the feverishly growing emo scene. Taking Back Sunday has undergone several lineup changes but has maintained a consistent presence in the alternative music world, releasing several successful albums and building a rabid fanbase. But, beyond all of it, there is something deeper with the band than just being a standout in the early 2000’s emo explosion. More than identifiable emotional lyrics that reach into the souls of so many. More than a scandalous feud with Brand New. There is something that must be seen.

On Friday, Taking Back Sunday stopped off at The Fillmore with special guests, Citizen, to give Philadelphia the chance to experience their particular je ne sais quoi for themselves. With over 45 stops on the North American leg of their tour alone, the band has been riding high since the release of their latest album, 152. The Filmore, filled up practically to capacity, had a steam-powered vibration that was palpable, with a suspense in the air that this powder keg could soon go off at any moment.

Citizen set the pace first, starting at about 8:00 p.m. The band, Mat Kerekes (vocals), Nick Hamm (lead guitar), Eric Hamm (bass), Mason Mercer (rhythm guitar), and Ben Russin (drums), took to the stage and immediately ripped into the song, ‘I Want to Kill You.” From that point on, Citizen put on a clinic in managing the delicate high-wire balancing act of Emo Post-Punk and good old-fashioned Detroit Rock. From tracks like “Hyper Trophy” and “Blue Sunday” to the fan-dedicated “The Night I Drove Alone,” Citizen was an opening act that put on a main event performance.

Through the blue-lit smokey stage arrived Taking Back Sunday, as John Nolan (guitar/keyboards), Shaun Cooper (bass), Mark O’Connell (drums), and Adam Lazzara (vocals) took to their spots. Exploding with the force of a typhoon into S’Old, the band lit that powder keg in the room, and suddenly what made them special was clear. Through a setlist of classics like “Cute Without The E” with additions from their new LPs like Amphetamine Smiles and Lightbringer, what was evident was the tribe that was whipped up into frenzy—from all walks of life and even different social cliques! In unity of exaltation, they hung onto every second, while Lazzara spun and glided up and down the steps onstage and from corner to corner. And if that weren’t enough, while Lazarra commanded the stage, possessed by the ghost of the late Freddie Mercury, his mic work would have put Gogo of the “Kill Bill” saga to shame. They wrapped the night up with the hit “MakeDamnSure,” sending every now-exhausted fan to stumble out adorning relieved and satisfied smiles.

A true highlight was the new single off the 152 album, “The One.” If it was possible for one song to take a theater-sized crowd and magically make them feel like they were participating in an arena anthem at Wembley, it was this moment. Proof that you can be uplifted and inspired at an Emo show!

And that was it. That is what sets them apart. To see that band is to both feel the energy they create and be thoroughly and visually entertained, but all the while doing so within this tribe. That is the beauty and the legacy of Taking Back Sunday.

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Written and Photographed by : Eric Sperrazza

  Picture if you will a once vintage theater in the suburbs of Philadelphia that became a forty-year venue staple in the music industry; still adorning the lightbulb-lit marquee atop the entrance. Now imagine that same boutique venue packed with 500 fans on a warm spring night. Creating hot fusion and practically melding those in attendance together, as the imprinted energy of “David Bowie,” “The Ramones,” “Eric Clapton,”and “Pink Floyd” ooze from the pores of the walls. That was exactly the scene in Ardmore,  on Monday evening as fans took up every inch of real estate inside the legendary Ardmore Music Hall for a chance to see the elusive-faced guitar virtuoso that is Buckethead.

Born Brian Patrick Carroll in the heart of Orange County, CA, the persona of Buckethead was designed in the face of anxiety issues coupled with heart conditions. The “it-list” guitar hero wanted people to focus on his music and less on the man. An amalgam of “Michael Myers” and a night of good drive-thru chicken, the avatar was born and has stayed as Carroll’s alter ego.  From soundtracks to movies such as “Mortal Kombat: Annihilation”, “Last Action Hero”, and “Mighty Morphin Power Rangers” to collaboration work with “Les Claypool”, “Bootsy Collins”, “Iggy Pop”, and “Guns & Roses”, “Buckethead” has stood on his vibrant talent and his quiet mystique in the realm of rock and roll for thirty-six years. 

As the packed-in Ardmore Music Hall became a human-powered convection oven, Buckethead silently took to the stage with Dan Monti (bass), Brian” Brain” Mantia (drums) and Madeline “Cyrille” Miller (vocals.) The scuttlebutt around the audience was that some fans had been lining up for prime general admission vantage points as early as noon, that day. As Buckethead and friends ripped into the song, “Fountains of the Forgotten,” that same passionate crowd came alive, making the temperature spike almost immediately to levels only rivaled by Arizona summers. Throughout the set, a potpourri of song offerings was delivered with as much surgical precision as the venue and subsequent equipment would allow. A venerable tour de force with the likes of Iron Maiden’s cover, “Wrathchild,”  Buckethead original “Night of Slunk” and even the Cyrille collaboration song, “Solar and Lunar Rain” were given up as a tribute to the rabid attendees. What’s more, was the covers of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” and even the Rick Springfield classic, “Jessie’s Girl.” Without uttering a solitary word, Buckethead finished the almost two-hour event with his single, “Jordan.” Despite the enigmatic axe-man’s talent spilling over in abundance onto the powder keg of the crowd, the night was fraught with issues. For the songs Cyrille had offered up vocals for, it seemed like her microphone was inoperable, and thus even those in the very front of the stage could not hear her. At one point, fans were telling her, “Your mic isn’t on!”. Even Buckethead, himself, wasn’t immune to technical difficulties as his amplifier feedback was that of a garage band’s first practice on a second-hand Marshall box. At least a half-dozen times, roadies took to the stage, being whispered concerns in their ear by Buckethead and scurried about to try and save the day. Even Cyrille got down on her knees to try and ameliorate difficulties with floor pedals and wiring. 

Then there was the accommodation of the press, we were told moments before the show by the band to shut down the press photography area. The staff of AMH, photographers, and writers who were there to cover the show were forced to navigate the general admission crowd. The media that was there were met with militant ticketholders either too packed in to move or uninterested in giving an inch of the space they fought to imbue. The staff tried to accommodate and came off wildly apologetic, but it didn’t make the night any easier.

As the show ended, the live audience spewed out into the streets of Ardmore, drenched as if they spent all day at a summer festival during a heatwave. However, the chatter amongst concertgoers was, by large positive. Space and technical difficulties aside, Buckethead gave the crowd the experience of a living guitar legend in full-costumed regalia. Showcasing his untouchable talent and delighting those who came to bask in awe. 

As for those of us who frequent Ardmore Music Hall, there is plenty that could have been mitigated differently, but the vibe given was that it wasn’t missed by those working the venue. Hopefully, the next time a Monday night sold-out crowd arrives looking to satiate their desire for music, the famed Hall will be more than ready to accommodate.

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Written and Photographed by : Eric Sperrazza   

       It was 1991 when Cypress Hill debuted, with their single “Hand on the Pump.” Members, Senen ‘Sen Dog’ Reyes, Louis ‘B-Real’ Freese, and Lawrence ‘DJ Muggs’ Muggerud were on their way to super-stardom. Touring on the stage that made the definitive soundtrack of the ’90s, Lollapalooza, Cypress Hill discovered mass appeal from

 all walks of life; fans of Grunge, Heavy Metal, Punk, and Pop joined Hip-Hop aficionados in embracing the band’s blended tales of west coast criminality mixed with a healthy love for marijuana. It was B-Real’s voice and cadence that captivated the casual listener, galvanized by Sen-Dog’s authoritative exalting, and the fiercest of beats by DJ Muggs. With six chart-topping Billboard singles, three Grammy nominations, a Billboard Music Award, and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Cypress Hill solidified themselves as groundbreaking pioneers in Hip Hop.

It seemed that, upon walking into the Etess Arena inside the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino at showtime, the kickoff show was already underway. Souls of Mischief, a Hip-Hop group with a lineage that stretches back to 1991, had already begun tearing up the stage and getting the incoming attendees ready. Consisting of artists, A-Plus, Phesto, Opio, and Tajai, the group is an extension of the famous rap collective, Hieroglyphics. During their time warming up the room and warming it right, they performed hits like “93 til Infinity,” “Never No More,” and “That’s When Ya Lost.” Overall, the lyricism and energy were so effortless it’s a testament to the prolific and creative lexicon that was the secret sauce of 90’s Hip-Hop. 

Here’s a question for you, what do you get when you mix an Albanian Muslim from Flushing, Queens with a Food & Travel Show on Vice, Pro Wrestling cameos in All Elite Wrestling on TBS, a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu career under the great Ryron Gracie, soulful bars on seven different LPs, and two BET Hip Hop Award nominations? You get Action Bronson. It was he who was next to take the stage and keep the party going. Bronson kicked off with hits 2019 hit, “Dmtri,” and kept the proverbial dice rolling throughout the set. A completely different kind of vibe from anything I’d seen before, some aspects felt like I was watching a fusion of Hip Hop, Jazz, and Jam Band Funk, at times. With bass, guitar, drums, and even bongos onstage to accompany this former chef turned lyrical tour de force. It was evident you had to go out of your way not to be entertained. Bronson continued with EPs from his storied career like “Bonzai,” “Live From the Moon,” “White Bronco,” and the 2015 hit, “Easy Rider.” 

In the early 2000s, original Sublime members, Eric Wilson and Bud Gaugh, worked to keep their music, and the legacy of their late lead singer, Bradley Nowell, alive by hitting the road with a new singer, Rome Ramirez. Through legalities over the name (Hence the change to the name, “Sublime with Rome.”), injuries, and side projects, the revamped lineup changed, quite a bit. It was announced that, after the dates for Sublime with Rome were honored in 2024, Ramirez would head into the next chapter of his career, solo. Meanwhile, Wilson and Gaugh would begin hitting the road, once more, as Sublime with Nowell’s son Jakob at the helm. One of those dates honored would be the Bongwalk Empire show with Cypress Hill in Atlantic City, New Jersey. 

One by one, the current iteration of Sublime with Rome, Ramirez, along with Joe Tomino (drums), Brian Allen (bass), and Gabrial McNair (keyboard and trombone),

 took to the stage as the final show before Cypress Hill’s main event. It was possibly one of the final times we’d see this current lineup play such coveted songs. The band wasted no time, opening with the Sublime favorites, “Doin’ Time” and “Smoke Two Joints.” Throughout the set, Ramirez endeared himself to the audience and gave due and proper flowers to former Cypress Hill artist, DJ Muggs, for helping him at the beginning of his career. The band continued, covering Fishbone’s “Skankin’ to the Beat,” The Grateful Dead’s “Scarlet Begonias,” and even Post Malone’s “Goodbyes.” After a long thirteen-song set had come to an end, Ramirez gave the crowd what they truly were salivating at the mouth to sing along to, “What I Got” & “Santeria.”

Finally, it was time for Cypress Hill. Out came a giant skull onto the stage with glowing eyes to signal the beginning of the main event. Adorned on top was a former member of Prophets of Rage and Public Enemy, DJ Lord, standing in for DJ Muggs. He needed no introduction or validation of his pedigree to start the show off as the master turntablist quickly went to work, hyping the crowd with surgical precision on the decks. With that, smoke bellowed from the bottom of the skeletal DJ booth. An inflatable grew from the back of the stage taking shape into a dapper skeleton holding a jar full of herbs and an afro made of hemp. Next to take the stage was longtime percussionist for Cypress Hill, Eric “Bobo” Correa. As the intro to “Stoned is the Way of the Walk” began, out came B-Real holding an 18-inch long functional and smoking joint. Soon after, Sen-Dog joined holding an equally large spliff of his own. From that point, a whopping nineteen-song set was kicked off by the veteran Hip-Hop artists that included epic singles like “When the Shit Goes Down,” “Hand on the Pump,” “The Phuncky Feel One,” and “Illusions.” Weed anthems, “I Wanna Get High,” “Hits From The Bong,” and “Dr. Greenthumb” were performed in a brilliant montage mix as well. And if that wasn’t enough, DJ Lord and Eric Bobo put on a venerable clinic with their respective solos. 

Plumes of smoke from the audience covered the ceiling of the Etess Arena and billowed out of the doors into the lobby, as the set list started wrapping up with legendary hits like “Throw Your Set in the Air,” “I Ain’t Going Out Like That” and, of course, the band’s magnum opus, “Insane in the Brain.” Seemingly, as quickly as it started, it was over. When every song was a hit, performed with the same fervor and enthusiasm as they had in the 1990’s, what more could they have possibly encored with, anyway? Would I have liked to have heard “Band of Gypsies?” Absolutely. Was it in any way missed? Not in the least. This was a perfect show, custom-made for the fans and delivered with excellence in every regard.

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When I think of the band, L7, I go right to acknowledging them as conquistadors of the Riot GRRRL movement. I think of lead singer, Donita Sparks, as one of the foundational voices of punk music, today. The first time I heard L7, they were not rock royalty yet. It was on the Major Motion Picture soundtrack of Oliver Stone‘s “Natural Born Killers” when I was introduced to them.

A hyper-violent scene in the movie saw Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis‘s characters, Mickey & Mallory Knox, at a roadside diner on the aptly-named highway, “Route 666.” A song cued up in a diner jukebox…a dark, garage-powered song, seemingly as violent as the movie it was playing in. The song was L7’s “Shitlist” and I watched wide-eyed while Mallory sang the words while beating the rude yokel to a pulp.

Years later, I would have the privilege of seeing L7 at the legendary Pontiac Grille in Philadelphia. As my face was melted off, properly, I found out, firsthand, that the energy of L7 and the sheer ferocity of their sound, while fun to hear in a movie, was mind-blowingly face-melting and worth every single cent of admission!

L7 was originally formed in California, in 1985. Aside from Sparks (lead vocals and guitar), the current lineup offers  (guitar, vocals), Jennifer Finch (bass, vocals), and Demetra Plakas (drums and vocals). However, it wouldn’t be until 1992 that the seminal LP, Bricks Are Heavy, would be released, giving the 90’s the unforgiving assault of singles, “Pretend We’re Dead,” “Wargasm,” and “Shitlist.”

In 2022, L7 embarked on a tour celebrating the 30th Anniversary of Bricks Are Heavy, promising attendees the entire album played, cover-to-cover. The success of this tour saw the band staying on the road into 2023, and now, L7’s In Your Space show comes to the East Coast!

On September 14th, the band will be at the famous Wonder Bar in musically-historic Asbury Park. On September 17th you can see L7 in Washinton DC at The Black Cat and on September 18th at the legendary Grammercy Theatre in New York’s East Village.

L7

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Written and Photographed by Eric Sperrazza

Earlier this year, I compiled a venerable omnibus on the history and lore of the band Ghost (You can read it here: ). Down within the rabbit hole of the macabre and sometimes silly content that Ghost leaves like breadcrumb trails for fans lies a wildly creative and ongoing story of a Rocky Horror Picture Show-like clergy and their various “Papas.” Through my deep dive into Ghost, I learned that if you listen to the band because you like the catchy pop-rock singles, you will rightfully enjoy yourself at a live show. But if you follow the band’s running mythos, you would be given all the fan service, seeing them perform live! 

On August 25th, Ghost was scheduled to perform at the Freedom Mortgage Pavilion on the Camden, N.J. Waterfront with their 2023 RE-IMPERATOUR. After spending the spring researching and putting pieces together of Ghost’s story like I was trying to solve the mystery of “The Shooter on the Grassy Knoll,” I could not pass on the opportunity to see the spectacle live.

I spent many great shows at the arena on the Camden Waterfront. I vividly remember seeing some of my favorite bands with a seat high above on the lawn among close friends and fellow musicophiles, all we could afford, being young and broke. It felt ironic and serendipitous, all at once, that I would be back professionally and sharing the joy of what was happening on that hot summer stage with new friends and musicophiles. The first thing I did see on that stage was something that should be, nay, needs to be shared with the masses. The opener, Amon Amarth!

The band hails from Stockholm County, Sweden, and insists they are melodic Death Metal, but there is no doubt they are unequivocally Viking Metal. Where would I come to such a conclusion? Barring the fact that the entirety of the content of their songs deals in Viking culture and mythology, the stage set was a giant gold Viking helmet adorned on either side by inflatable stone-looking statues of Vikings. If that was not enough to fit this band into the Nordic genre, take the fact that there were two men dressed as Vikings, swinging weapons before the crowd on either side of the stage. They did this down the set list through songs like “Ravens Flight” and “Deceiver of the Gods.” But when the band began to play “The Way of Vikings,” these two live and armed men battled on the center of the stage, much to the thrill of almost everyone in attendance. During the song “Put Your Back Into The Oar,” Hegg (lead vocalist) got the whole audience to “row” in unison as if we were launching a warship full of Berzerkers out to sea. If that wasn’t enough of a show, an inflatable serpent appeared from the side of the curtain, only for “Mjolnir,” Thor’s mighty hammer, to come down into the hands of Hegg to battle with the monster. So, in closing, one of the most entertaining stage shows I have ever seen, but don’t sell me on the fact they are not Viking Metal. I’m not buying.

After a 30-minute intermission, the lights went dark, and the sounds of an eerie soul-stirring choir began to creep through the arena and up onto the lawn. And, as if having the audience leaning into the terrifying harmony was purposeful, with a thunderous boom that would’ve startled even the toughest of Vikings in the back, the curtain fell to reveal the renowned band of Nameless Ghouls. High-stepping from the back and tearing into the song, “Kaisarion” was the one-and-only devilishly flamboyant and inimitable Papa Emeritus IV! 

As the Nameless Ghouls thrashed about, Papa sashayed from corner to corner on stage, one foot upon the stage monitoring systems and leaning toward the crowd with impetus. They collectively began a nineteen-song set list that dove into every chapter in the story of Ghost thus far.

Ghost gave the packed ticketholders in the sold-out seats and, shoulder-to-shoulder on the lawn, a cavalcade of their hits. From “Spillways to ” “Rats” and “Cirice,” The Fourth Papa of the band moved about, working the crowd in his lavish suit, like interpretive dance to the music around him. That was until the band performed the single, “Call Me Little Sunshine,” to which Emeritus crept from the back of the stage to his microphone in full papal regalia. At one point, a glass coffin was rolled onto the stage, to which two stage hands opened and resuscitated the late Papa Nihil (The first Papa in the story of Gost.) with defibrillators—out jumped a revived Nihil for a saxophone solo, only to gently fall back into his coffin and be rolled away.

The band went on performing, touching on their TikTok-trending smash, “Mary on a Cross.” Before finishing the regular set with “Respite on the Spitalfields,” Emeritus the Fourth waxed on about the band’s many visits to Philadelphia, highlighting the great Union Transfer on Spring Garden with fondness. After a failed attempt at telling us all to go home, Papa agreed to three more songs, finishing with “Kiss The Go-Goat” and the Smashes, “Square Hammer,” and “Dance Macabre.” With a swarm of confetti swirling & sparkling from the house lights, it was as if we had just witnessed magic, and with a poof of smoke, the entertainers disappeared, leaving twinkling dust in their wake.

Walking through the crowd and back to the parking lots, I had the opportunity to size up the fans in attendance. There were Ghost t-shirts as far as the eye could see and many in makeup. For every Papa Emeritus cosplay, there were just as many undead nuns and even folks dressed as The Nameless Ghouls. It felt like I was leaving a Misfits or KISS show. It felt like the kid in me was at a dark rock & roll circus once more, and that was what seeing the show live rounds out for the fan. The music is nostalgic, for sure. But the show is a homecoming to many Baby Boomers and Gen-Xers and the next generation’s first opportunity to be enveloped in the fandom of a larger-than-life band.

As for the Freedom Mortgage Pavilion, I was excited to see the venue, especially with the recent sponsorship change from BB&T. However, it didn’t feel renewed or rejuvenated. It felt old, unkept, and stale. It was as if the first time they painted and cleaned up spilled beer in the arena was the last time they painted and cleaned up spilled beer. The letdown didn’t end with the darkness of the venue. The staff seemed exasperated and put off to assist, even though the event was beginning. Worst of all, the Live Nation security presence needed to be in tune with the band security, creating confusion and confrontation. It was glaringly apparent that the new name on the sign was merely a silk bonnet on a pig.

The kid in all of us left joyful and content, happy with the memories we made and eclipsing any of the pitfalls of our surroundings. Isn’t that the promise of rock and roll from the very beginning, anyway?

Ghost

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Amon Amarth

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Written & Photographed By: Eric Sperrazza

It was 1998 and I was in the fledgling stages of my love affair with punk music. Freshly moved from Queens, New York where I spent my time discovering the East Village and the full breadth of the Bowery, I was given a ticket to join a friend for the Vans Warped Tour on the Camden, New Jersey Waterfront. There, I would hear the sounds for the first time of Bad Religion, Rancid, Dropkick Murphys, NOFX, The Bouncing Souls, The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, and a band called Save Ferris. I was taken aback by this continuation of my punk journey, so far from Greenwich Village. As we drove back to my apartment, sweaty, dirty, and with bags of vendor swag, I asked my friend if she had any CDs of the bands we saw to play in her car. At that moment, she pulled out a copy of Save Ferris’s album, It Means Everything, and proceeded to listen to it, all the way home. It wasn’t long after that I began a hunt to own all the music that touched my soul, on that day. What St. Marks Place started in lower Manhattan, a scorching day under the summer sun in Camden had finished.

In 2011, I began a personal journey in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that has continued to this day. Coming into the world of Combat Sports at the beginning of the new decade, I heard a song repeatedly at Amateur MMA promotions & Pro Grappling Cards. It was “Warrior Song” by the Danish Rock band Volbeat. It made sense! The gang chorus is in the back, yelling, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” while the song spins a tall tale of an actual fighter, Danish boxing champion Mikkel Kessler. Through 2011 and well into 2012, I went deep into the band. What I had come to find are more common denominators in good old-fashioned American Rockabilly and considerably less in Nordic metal. Volbeat is one part Godsmack, one part Nu Metal and one part Johnny Cash, making their sound uniquely their own. 

Throughout their career, Volbeat toured extensively, building a dedicated fanbase through their energetic live performances. This summer, Volbeat planned to stop at Ocean Casino Resort’s Ovation Hall in Atlantic City with none other than Pennsylvania’s Halestorm. And to the surprise of literally no one, the place was packed on the night of the show!

Ovation Hall doesn’t feel or look different from the neighboring Hard Rock Casino’s Etess Arena. While physically nothing stood out of note, the sound was the best attribute of the evening and especially for those who were performing. Bands like Halestorm and Volbeat have such a microscope on the lead vocals. Lzzy Hale’s sound & strength of her singing and Michael Poulsen’s specific staccato and tone could all get easily lost in the sauce of a live show’s overall presentation. But Ovation Hall was such that, no matter where you stood or how close you got to the stage, both singers could be heard like you were listening to a high-definition studio set. That is reason enough to go back to Ovation Hall in the future.

First, Halestorm exploded onto the stage, tearing right into “I Miss the Misery.” Lzzy carried all the stage presence of a Metal Goddess, adorned with the regalia of leather & grit, both outrageously beautiful and frighteningly tough-as-nails. The band went on to perform an amalgam of their first single, “I Get Off,” and Heart‘s “Crazy on You.” Hearing Halestorm play Heart with such ferociousness was like hearing Heart play “Crazy on You” for the first time, all over again, dumbfounded by the force and sultriness of it all. They went on to offer the fans skewering hits like “Wicked Ways,” “Freak Like Me,” and “I Like It Heavy.” The band wrapped up with their newest chart-topping cut, “The Steeple.” The fans were visibly disappointed that the energy was coming to an end. As the road crew began breaking down the gear on stage, people were literally looking around at each other with what can only be described as a look saying, “Well, what are we going to do, NOW?!”

If there is ever a rock & roll Call to Action for a band, it is the way the opener left the crowd. If the band left the audience rabid for more, the next band has to step up and follow that momentum. Volbeat was that such band. No fanfare, elaborate entrance, or crowd introductions were necessary, so Volbeat ripped right into “The Devil’s Bleeding Crown.” Poulsen proceeded to put on a clinic in hard rock. It was fist-pumping, horns-waiving, high-energy fun, but hard rock and roll. If their idols are an array of mid-century rockabilly artists and metal pioneers of the 80s & 90s, then they stuck the landing, especially for a band hailing from Copenhagen.

Ripping through a venerable greatest hits set with “Lola Montez,” “Die to Live,” and “Shotgun Blues,” the band offered up A Johnny Cash cover of “Ring of Fire” as the opener for “Sad Man’s Tongue” and even some of their newer singles like “Temple of Ekur” and, my favorite, “For Evigt” (Which is ‘Forever’ in Danish.).

The crowd understood the assignment during “A Warrior’s Call” and yelled along with the chorus until the song seamlessly transitioned into “I Only Want to Be With You.” 

The night wrapped up with everyone counting all the assholes in the room, along with Volbeat’s “Still Counting.” 

My initial thoughts upon leaving the show were that of satisfaction. Volbeat performed exactly how I thought they would and how I hoped they would after years of being a fan. You can’t say that about every show, but the expectation of talent after almost 13 years of imagining their shows was ultimately met. Any fan of Hard Rock owes it to themselves to give this band a listen and check out their live show. 

I remember seeing Halestorm at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia in 2008. They had opened for Shinedown, and afterward, I met Lzzy at the vendor booth. I told her they blew me away, and I bought their CD, which may have been burned copy. Regarding the band’s performance, Lzzy and the band met, surpassed, and destroyed any expectations I could have ever had. Epic. Long live the Queen. 

(Halestorm has been on the pages of Origivation and the front cover in their earlier years playing in Philly.)

Volbeat

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Halestorm

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Written by Eric Sperrazza, Photographed by Liv Foltiny

When I was in Junior High School, long before Wayne’s World had us headbanging along, I had discovered the band, Queen. At such a young age, the band’s music had me do an about face to new emotions I was sometimes ill-equipped to deal with. When the voice of legendary Freddie Mercury wanted the audience to feel sad, I was swimming in a sea of melancholy. Conversely, when the tone changed to a deep and overwhelming love for someone, my heart was engulfed in a wave of feelings that, although I was novice to, Queen were the right sherpas to speak the words I could not. Because of this pubescent love affair I had with the band, I was rightfully crushed when the music suddenly stopped. When Freddie Mercury died, I wept, not only because a venerable ventriloquist of my soul left the world for me to deal with life all on my own, but that I would never see the future incarnations of the band. That was the brilliance of Queen; their style, their themes and their topic matter changed with their age, the album & the times.

The year 2015… the first time I had heard the band, The Struts. Unlike any comparisons the general populace made between proverbial new-bands-on-the-block and Queen, prior, there was something different happening with The Struts. The music had all the quintessential Glam Rock elements found in bands like Sweet or The New York Dolls and Struts frontman Luke Spiller did have an amazing and somewhat familiar voice, but there was more. There was passion, theatrics, the marksman-use of musical inflection and, most of all, there was an insane amount of heart. My spirit was feeling and feeling hard in a way that took me right back to summers in Queens, New York, visiting my grandparents and staying up late to dissect mix tapes of B-Side Queen tracks my uncle would make for me, adding layers to my newly discovered fandom. But the biggest joy for me was The Struts had me wonder if their music would have been the modern incarnation of the British Classic Rock Royalty, I held such a deep appreciation for. 

On July 22nd, 2023; The Struts brought their Remember the Name 2023 Tour to Philadelphia’s Fillmore and I took this opportunity to see if the magic was something of a studio creation or if the spiritual baton truly had been passed to these four Derbyshire musicians. At 6pm, an hour before the doors ever opened at The Filmore in Philadelphia, the line for general admission attendees was already sprawling up two city blocks. The age group of ticket holders spanned from 7 to 70 years of age. From fans of vintage Glam all the way through The Struts discography tenure and even new listeners who had discovered the band via TikTok, they were all ravenous to get in and find their place in the crowd to take in the show. 

First on stage was the opening band, Mac Saturn. The six-piece band, made up of frontman Carson Macc, Angelo Coppola (Drums.), Mike Moody&Nick Barone (guitar), Jive Moses(Bass) and Evan Mercer (Piano.), have been a staple in the Detroit music scene for the last few years. They started releasing singles in 2022 and since have risen to a level of cult popularity rarely seen today with new rock & roll bands. Exploding into their first single, Diamonds, you could already hear some of the Gen-Xers in the audience compare Macc and his constant state of motion to that of a Mick Jagger…and the fans weren’t completely off the mark. However, as they continued with such formidable songs such as “Ain’t Like You, Mint Julep” and their second EP, Plain Clothes Gentleman, I could not only hear the Motown influence in their explosive brand of funk rock, but the very spirit of Detroit. There was something both fun, dangerous and poetic happening, all at once. The performance, and Macc in particular, was reminiscent of such Detroit Rock banner holders like The MC5 and The Stooges. In fact, that is what I saw, immediately, watching Macc, onstage, a young Iggy Pop. For me, and those around me, that was exhilarating. To the younger audience with no frame of reference, they appeared dumbfounded and wide-eyed with entertainment at the tour de force that was blowing through the stage, straight out of Motor City.

After a short intermission to redress the stage, the crowd tightened closer as the house lights dimmed, and out came Spiller along with bandmates, Gethin Davies (Drums.), Jed Elliott (Bass.), and Adam Slack (Guitar.). The band wasted zero time riling up the fans by ripping into their smash from their 2014 debut album, Everybody Wants, “Dirty Sexy Money.” From there, The Struts tore through a 20-song setlist that included previous hits like “Kiss This” and “In Love with a Camera” to new singles released this year like “Too Good at Raising Hell” and an electric version of “Pretty Vicious.”

Some notable covers the band performed was Lorde’s “Royals,” which gave the song a much slicker and sexier vibe coming from the cacophony of the Glam Rock artists performing it, but the real treat felt like it almost happened by accident, ” Bohemian Rhapsody.” Well, the first stanza, anyway.  Spiller sat behind his Union Jack-draped piano and, before beginning the two encores, “Fire (Part One)” and “Could have been Me,” Spiller cheekily began to play the piano introduction of the epic Queen track from their album, A Night at the Opera. The crowd understood the assignment and began singing to the melody of the piano. And, before long, Spiller joined the crowd with their loving homage to Mercury and the band. To say this moment almost brought a tear to my eye is an understatement! It was a beautiful nod to the band’s vibe without completely claiming the song as their own, for the night. 

The aforementioned “Could Have Been Me” brought the night to a close as a swan song to all the feels the band exalted and, thus, invoked. The lyrics of the chorus belted out on all cylinders by everyone in the audience, “I wanna taste love and pain! Wanna feel pride and shame! I don’t wanna take my time! Don’t wanna waste one line! I wanna live better days! Never look back and say, it could have been me”  like a life’s vow and a call-to-action, there was a sense of purpose solidified for all in the room and a drive to live their best lives as the house light illuminated the Fillmore, once more.

I had seen Queen in concert, twice, with Paul Rogers during the Return of The Champions tour. Although I spent quite a pretty penny to be in the company of Roger Taylor and Brian May, it felt a lot like I was hearing Bad Company do Queen covers, to my ears. However, leaving The Filmore and thinking about the crowd work Spiller did, the insane guitar and drum solos and even the body movements of the band throughout the night, I felt as if I was at a vintage Queen concert at times and being introduced to new music, and yet without the band trying for that comparison. Even during Bohemian Rhapsody, it felt more of a singalong with Spiller and fellow Queen fans than a band trying to be Queen. And that was the beauty of the whole night. The show was both original and wildly entertaining but with a love letter to mutual fandom.

It is no wonder the band has had staying power and respect throughout the music industry from some of the biggest names for almost a decade. In no small amount of time, there will be a whole new generation comparing bands to the energy and creativity of The Struts.

The Remember the Name Tour ended in the city of Brotherly Love, but you can follow The Struts – 

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Written and Photographed By Eric Sperrazza

Shakespeare wrote in A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Act 3: Scene 1) that “reason and love keep little company together; that love trumps reason every time”. This explains why The Mann Music Center was under siege last Friday night by an enchanted army. As far as the eye could see, mobbing the security check and up the steep steps to the Skyline Stage, were hundreds of people adorning pink glitter, fairy wings, pointed ears, and carrying homemade signs. Packs of young girls, like some kind of Greek tragedy, could be seen weeping in their pixie cosplays upon learning the show they came to see was sold out. But what kind performer could attract an audience large enough to sell out The Mann? The empress of this kingdom that befell upon Philadelphia was none other than Melanie Martinez. Her audience, bound and determined to be a part of the magic and create a fantasy world before her, around her and with her, the towers of Center City as the backdrop.

Melanie Martinez is known for her unique style and alternative electro-pop sound. Hailing from Baldwin, New York, Martinez gained prominence after participating in the third season of the reality TV show The Voice in 2012. Her distinctive brand and introspective lyrics have garnered a loyal fan base. Martinez’s debut studio album Cry Baby (2015), achieved commercial success and received positive reviews. She often incorporates elements of dark fairy tales and childhood themes into her music, exploring topics such as personal struggles, relationships, and societal issues. This makes for dark and honest subject matter embedded in a dream world, whereby Martinez’s alter ego thrives as both storyteller and guide through her enchanted forest of stage and sound. 

The fairy imagery in Martinez’s work often manifests through various visual elements such as whimsical costumes, ethereal settings, and enchanting aesthetics. She embraces the idea of creating a dreamlike atmosphere, blurring the boundaries between reality and fantasy and inviting her audience into a world of her own creation. With the latest album release, Portals, Martinez debuted a new avatar as a symbol of rebirth into a new chapter of her story. This new vessel and subsequent new music electrified the current fan base and roped in new ones, as Martinez paints the road traveled to a new evolution of self. As the sun set, accent curtains of forest fell on the sides of the stage. The fog machine began to puff slithering smoke spilling over into the crowd as they pressed closer to the stage. The anticipation of the audience was palpable and teenage girls were already shedding tears of euphoric fandom. It felt as if a powder keg was about to erupt, right there, on the lawn of The Mann. And erupt, it did.

Martinez took to the stage to the thunderous sound of a sold-out crowd screaming with phones in the air, trying to get a glimpse of Martinez’s current adaptation of her alter-ego, a four-eyed fairy. Opening with the song ‘DEATH,’ Martinez proceeded to tell the entirety of the Portals album’s story in sequential order. As she went down the song list of ‘VOID,’ ‘TUNNEL VISION’ and ‘FAERIE SOIREE,’ the fans held on to each word, singing along, intermittently trying to take photos of the spectacle on stage. Backup dancers stealthily crawled across the stage amidst the smoke one minute and leaped into the air with fluidity and grace the next. Martinez moved and sang with ease in her regalia. All looking more like performance art than merely a pop show on a warm summer night. 

A moment of note was the song ‘LIGHT SHOWER.’ A simple but brilliant song about finding someone that vibrates on the same frequency as you and sheds light into the parts of your life that are dark. It was a beautiful sentiment, but what drove it home for me was the audience. As they sang the song along, I couldn’t help but take notice of the irony that all these ticket-holders, in the normal idiosyncratic routine of life, are unique and creative beings that live outside of the box. But on this night, they gathered vibrating on the same frequency and bathing in the light of each other. All these fans found an artist that speaks to their feelings but by doing so, found familiar goodfellows in this collective, as well. 

During the encore, Martinez gave the fans a few classics like ‘PLUTO’ and ‘MILK OF A SIREN’, ending the dreamy fairytale of the night. As the band and dancers joined Martinez for a bow, they unfurled an LGBTQA+ flag, honoring the last day of Pride Month and much to the appreciation of many on the lawn. Leaving Fairmount Park, I took stock in the evening. Melanie Martinez fans came to create a safe space and celebrate a community of emotional intelligence. A sold-out event with not one altercation and a community fandom based on creative and social acceptance. I again think of Shakespeare. Was I awake? Because that kind of experience would seem like I was asleep and dreaming. The old guy in me arrived wondering why everyone was in costume. I left with hope for the future in my heart.

Melanie Martinez

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