Cost In Translation

Last summer, Universal Music Group -- the largest of the five corporations that produce most of the music we hear -- made headlines by cutting the list price of its labels’ CDs by about 30 percent. Universal CDs now retail for between $10 and $13, which should pressure other labels to follow suit. Universal officials said the decision was in part an attempt to stem the tide of illegal downloading. But is slashing the price of an album enough to entice a typical downloader away from Kazaa? “There’s no question that a third to half of the decline in album sales is directly attributable to downloading,” says Russ Crupnick, vice president of the NPD Group, a marketing-information firm. “When we ask consumers why they’re buying less music, price is at the top of the list every single time.”

Anarchy In The A.C.

“Thank you, Donald Dump, for letting us play your castle!” Johnny Rotten snarled as the Sex Pistols stormed the Grand Cayman ballroom of the Trump Marina in Atlantic City. Rotten may not be the firebrand he was back in 1978, but as hunched old ladies pumped quarter after quarter into the nearby slots, the fact that the punk legend was stirring up some genuine anger under the gold plastic chandeliers almost made us forget that Creedence Clearwater Revisited had played this wedding-friendly venue the previous night (and that someone held up a lighter during “God Save the Queen”). Have the Pistols become a sad, spent oldies act, or are they still relevant? We turned to the crowd for answers.

Pink's Not Dead

Pink looks great today, with her bleached hair slicked back and a belt buckle that says Kick Ass. She’s more curvy and womanly these days and speaks with a confidence that’s reflected on her new record, Try This. Two years ago, fighting the R&B-diva mold her label had contrived for her, Pink went multiplatinum with the dance-rock Missundaztood, on which she collaborated with her then-obscure idol, Linda Perry of 4 Non Blondes. But after aborting sessions with Perry, Pink, 24, found a new creative partner in Rancid’s Tim Armstrong, who cowrote and produced nine tracks on Try This, which continues her stylistic pastiche of soul, gospel, rock, rap, and disco. Don’t worry, though: As she admits, lighting up a Newport, “I’m not that fucking evolved.”

Bam On The Run

If you’re going to be drinking with Brandon “Bam” Margera, watch what you say. One night this summer, Margera was at a bar near his suburban West Chester, Pennsylvania, home when he heard his Jackass coconspirator Ryan Dunn shooting off his mouth. “He was talking all kinds of shit,” says Margera, 24, in his hyperactive Philly accent, “saying that if he was in Iceland tomorrow, he’d go over this waterfall in a barrel. So I went home and straight-up bought tickets, and we left the next morning. He pussies out for like three hours until finally he was like, ‘Dude, you spent seven grand flying us out here!’ and he powered it out and did it. And then we just went home.”

Six Steps To Godlike Genius

I’m the greatest songwriter of my generation. Granted, most of my material falls outside the conventional parameters of mainstream FM radio fare -- I like to fuse my country-tinged reggae with progressive Tejano metal -- but the songs themselves are flawless nuggets of pure pop perfection. I like to drag the listener through a mystical portal, deep into a subterranean consciousness that he or she never knew existed. I like to make audiences confront love and hate simultaneously. I like to bring the darkness with extreme prejudice.
I’m the greatest songwriter of my generation. Granted, most of my material falls outside the conventional parameters of mainstream FM radio fare -- I like to fuse my country-tinged reggae with progressive Tejano metal -- but the songs themselves are flawless nuggets of pure pop perfection. I like to drag the listener through a mystical portal, deep into a subterranean consciousness that he or she never knew existed. I like to make audiences confront love and hate simultaneously. I like to bring the darkness with extreme prejudice.

Bands to Watch: The Stills

Little-known fact: Every rock group has a puker. “I talked to a lot of bands when we were playing [England’s] Reading Festival,” says Stills bassist Oliver Crowe, “and I’d say 70 percent of them puke before a show from nervousness. Take Julian of the Strokes.”
Little-known fact: Every rock group has a puker. “I talked to a lot of bands when we were playing [England’s] Reading Festival,” says Stills bassist Oliver Crowe, “and I’d say 70 percent of them puke before a show from nervousness. Take Julian of the Strokes.”
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