Press Photo, hat intact.

[Editor's note: In the time since this post was published this morning, Zach Sobiech has succumbed to his illness. May he rest in peace, and may his family find comfort in these sad times.]

Anyone who has either been to a wedding or a funeral in their life knows from that fortunate/unfortunate event (or vice versa, depending on your opinion on the betrothed/deposed) is familiar with Ecclesiastes 3:8. For the non-Tebows out there, that's the one that '60s band the Birds made into an old commercial for Time-Life magazines: There is a time to reap, a time to sow, a time to love, a time to hate, etc. Basically, that there is an appropriate time for everything.

I never thought I'd be saying this, but there is even a time to stop taking shots at Jason Mraz.

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Mike Mezeul

Lil Wayne has just released his tenth studio album, I Am Not a Human Being II. It's been eighteen years since his first album: True Story as one half of The B.G.'z. In that time, he's been a lesser-known member of an embattled Southern hip-hop group, a scrawny kid, a mixtape hero, the greatest rapper alive, the world's biggest pop star, a crossover cautionary tale, a completely non-discriminatory shill and an old man playing catch-up in a style he practically invented. That style would be the free-association that people once reverently described as "Dadaist" but now more commonly refer to as "stupid." And he deserves it, really: In 2007 we were getting vivid genius like, "I'm so motherfuckin' high, I could eat a star." Whereas now we're just getting whatever lazy nonsense wanders into his addled brain ("'Cause when it Waynes it pours," which, come on).

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Charles Haller of the Soulard Folk and Blues Band

On January 1, the city quietly quadrupled the price of a busker's permit from $25 to $100 annually -- and Charles Haller of the Bates Street Folk and Blues Band feels compelled to make some noise.

"It's going to diminish the music on the streets of St. Louis," he predicts to Daily RFT. Haller concedes that he and his band-mates can recoup that expense fairly quickly on a balmy weekend or two outside of Soulard Market, where they've been playing for years.

But the permit is issued to individuals, not to a band collectively. Thus, Haller says, the price hike will discourage his friends who liked to sit in on occasion, just for the joy of it.

"Some of them wouldn't even want any money, they just want to play," he says. "They're not gonna do it this year if they have to pay 100 dollars."

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KRAMPUS COMIN'

The War on Christmas is upon us! Time to take sides! Did you know there was a War on Christmas? There is! Us Godless heathens are burning all the mangers, or at least politely asking that they not be forcibly erected (oh, I said it) in public spaces.

But you know what? Fine. You want a War on Christmas? We'll give you a freakin' War on Christmas. We here at RFT Music actually really enjoy the Holidays, what with the lights and goodwill and family bonding and gift exchanging and such. Still, there is no shortage of ammunition out there: Christmas has moved pretty far from a very meaningful parable about a baby in a manger. So here it is, our ten part War on Christmas battle cry.

See also:
-The Ten Worst Christmas Songs. Ever.
-For Christmas, What do you Get the Music-Loving Acquaintance who Already has Nothing?
-Why People Hate Christmas Music

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YouTube

This imagery is confusing.

Update: PETA, of which 90% is just a team dedicated to taking anything that trends on Twitter and figuring out how it can be protested (naked, ideally), has set its (humane) sights on our friend Nicole. They're going to deliver her a Tofurkey, which is a torture no human should endure. The full story (complete with alterante "It's Thanksgiving" lyrics) is on our sister blog, Gut Check.

Remember Rebecca Black? She is the California teenager whose parents paid for their daughter to perform a song called "Friday" in a now-infamous YouTube music video. Black became internet famous overnight, mostly because everyone agreed that it was the worst song they'd ever heard. Black says she cried a lot over this and was tormented to the point where she left her middle school. She even reportedly received death threats.

That has not deterred the folks behind Black's failsess/succailure from offering the same service to other families. Now, a girl from South County appears to be achieving the same result with a new single called "It's Thanksgiving."

See also:
-What do Rebecca Black, Kreayshawn and Tyler the Creator Have in Common
-Rebecca Black's "Friday" Embroiled In Viral Video Equivalent Of Label Dispute
-Haters Gon' Hate Archives

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A face only a mother could love. Well, and Katy Perry, apparently.

I have three daughters. I love and adore my three daughters. If it were possible, I would move heaven and Earth for my three daughters. I hate the song "Daughters" by John Mayer.

See also: The greatest song of all time

Every year, I take my oldest two children to a father-daughter dance where there are three things I can count on with absolute certainty: a brave soldier falling down while attempting the Limbo, a Dad's hula hoop contest that lasts only slightly longer than a sneeze, and slow dancing to "Daughters". Instead of feeling the swell of emotions the song is supposed to evoke, I suffer through those four torturous minutes, looking forward to better times of sliding, both cha-cha and electric.

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Dave Matthews, not enunciating at Busch Stadium. Photo by Todd Owyoung.

An open letter to the attendees of the Dave Matthews Band Concert (July 11, 2012):

I am sorry. On behalf of those who you would surely deem "music snobs", I am sorry that our actions or lack thereof may have contributed to you braving a scorching St. Louis summer night for yet another Dave Matthews Band concert. Please understand, I am not writing this to be mean-spirited. If I were, I would just be an accompanying voice in the loud chorus of musical blogs by writing 1,000 words about how much DMB sucks. I will not do that, nor will I point out that Dave Matthews has had more relevance as an actor than a musician over the past fifteen years. Also, I want to be fair and mention that I did not attend the concert, so I cannot comment on the patented way the band turns a four-minute song into something the length of a short film.

We've tried to see the light: Dave Matthews Band at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, 7/11/12: Review and Setlist

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Yesterday, Wednesday, May 23, St. Louis radio station WSGX 100.3 FM switched formats from '90s music mecca "GenX Radio" to "The Brew," a classic rock station. The last song for the Generation X-aimed audience was Blind Melon's "No Rain" followed by jarring transition song "I Wanna Rock" by Twisted Sister to inaugurate the station's new direction.

And there it is. One minute it was here, the next it was gone. Like a thief in the night, the station so subtly and smoothly stole away that I didn't realize it was missing until the following day's morning commute. "Who was listening to KSHE 95 FM in my car?" I wondered aloud to no one but myself this morning -- because it's normal to talk to yourself if you're a self-involved Gen-X kid. So what if my age technically makes me a 'Millennial" -- I reject that nonsense because I can't accept Z107.7 FM as my generation's sound. I can accept Blind Melon. And the Beastie Boys, the Cure, Guns N' Roses, Ying Yang Twins, Fiona Apple, Prince, Harvey Danger, Salt-N-Pepa, Nine Inch Nails. To put it another way, one that honors my fellow Echo Boomers: If I could afford Sirius XM satellite radio it would be permanently playing "'90s on 9."

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Turns out the name was much more literal than we thought.

On Tuesday, RFT Music posted a list of the best and worst band names at this year's South By Southwest. The Ghost Wolves was deemed the sixth worst name, leading the Austin, Texas duo to send this email in response:

"Just fyi - our name isn't "trendy" ... we actually travel with a 125 pound arctic wolf hybrid and raise wolf hybrids on our Texas ranch. Been at it for 30 years. And one night, we saw the ghost of one our dead wolves on our land. So we named our band The Ghost Wolves.

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Doug Hamilton

Punk rock! No, seriously.

It is possible that no band maintains a more complicated relationship with punk rock than Green Day. Ever since the group's breakout Dookie, its existence has been paradoxical, a flow chart that alternately asks, answers, and dodges questions about the grand concept of punk. According to the gang mentality of scene politics, bands who taste the forbidden fruit of the mainstream care not about their community. Green Day consistently cares too much, and has been hyper-aware of backlash throughout its career. In the name of punk, Green Day has done the following: buried Billie Joe Armstrong's voice in mixes, took Pansy Division on tour, created an overly aggressive sophomore album, wrote "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)," ironically used the word "faggot," and released a live DVD titled Awesome As Fuck. But none of these actions are as punk rock as adapting the 2004 album American Idiot into a Broadway musical, which is in town this weekend at the Peabody Opera House (14th St. and Market St. 314-241-1888)

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