Anyone who caught the HEAVY METAL KINGS show at Brighton Music Hall a few months back would agree it was a headbanger's ball, something like an hour-plus of hardcore bliss wrapped in a blumpkin from your favorite starlet. It was probably the first time in two years that I've hugged the stage for an entire set.
The bad news is that both Fat Beats retail shops – on Sixth Ave in Manhattan and Melrose in Los Angeles – are officially out of business. Following a calendar of coast-to-coast celebratory in-store send-offs that dovetailed with this year's Rock the Bells schedule, the racks came down, and by now contractors have probably peeled off the storied sticker collection that's tattooed from the floor to the track-lighting.
I’m not packing clothes
for this year’s CMJ Marathon in New
York City. In fact, I’m not even bringing down a
laptop. Instead of spending five straight days inhaling various poisons,
feverishly blogging on the same nonsense that everyone else is covering, and
ransacking my weathered eardrums with out-of-tune guitar shreds and swollen
bass lines, I’m limiting my trip to one day and two nights, and seeing how much
I can cram in.