Since I'm in Las Vegas for the week, first up will be a Cirque du Soleil show on Thursday. I'll capture what it was like, how to get there and any inside dirt I dig up. Let's go!

EventChaser / Razorgator / Cirque du Soleil Tickets

I first heard about this contest (well, the original music portion of it) when the Hollywood band Orange excitedly announced that it won several preliminary and semii-finalist rounds. The upshot: These guys are appearing on the FUSE network at 10:30 a.m. Pacific time tomorrow, as part of the so-called "Hollywood round."

I'm rooting for Orange, a pop-punk outfit that's the first Hollywood band I saw after moving to Los Angeles a year and a half ago. They obviously worship at the altar of Social Distortion, in a good way, and I've been hearing that songwriter Joe Dexter has some really interesting compositions in the works.

Really, though, I'll be happy for any decent, struggling band to win the $10,000 grand prize!

Check out our SXSW 2009 coverage over at http://sxswblog.sched.org and keep an eye for the SXSW Schedule to launch on SCHED* in late February!

It's not the meticulous makeup, which lasted a long day of promo appearances at the Pacific Media Expo earlier this month. It's not the elaborate costumes and platform boots, which the band admitted are rather hard to move around in. It's because these guys really do live for their music--and that dedication is what Suicide Ali radiates, whether onstage or during an intimate face-to-face. During a fan Q&A session, when people asked about their favorite pasttimes singer/songwriter/band founder Goshi said one of his hobbies is photography--since it aids the creation of his music. "I'm hoping that it helps me understand the human psyche," he says through a translator.

No doubt it'll be the darker side of humanity that Goshi--as well as bassist and fellow band founder Hiroshi, guitarist/songwriter Yuu, and drummer Hisashi--will continue to explore. Most people call these guys industrial, though I like to describe Suicide Ali's music as a combination of American metal and European goth, Japan-ified with pretty vocals and immense sense of showmanship. Goshi's slow, deliberate moves onstage are mesmerizing; he pays attention to the tiniest flick of a wrist or finger. He reminds me of traditional Japanese performance, like that of a geisha or Kubuki actor, in which actions and music are carefully matched to evoke a mood or emotion, not just a character. I hear that this quality is pretty unique to Suicide Ali.

As is their music. Word is they are heavier than most "visual kei" bands. No doubt it's because of the influences the group cites: Ozzy, Metallica, Nirvana, and even underground metal like Dope and Murderdolls, which drummer Hisashi, who also digs Crue, tells me he likes because of Joey Jordison. Tempering brutal riffs and dark tales, however, is Goshi's voice: Smooth and super-emotive, and sometimes screamo too. It's no surprise that PJ Harvey is his favorite singer. There's also a lot of pre-recorded synth tracks that Suicide Ali utilizes both live and on their CDs, mimicing flutes, pianos, even a Theremin, but in an obviously manufactured way--much more effective than real instruments would be.

These guys could give Phil Spector a run for his money with their "wall of sound." There's so much layered into a Suicide Ali song that each time you listen to one, you'll hear something you didn't before. Perhaps a barely-there backing vocal, a sparse piano chord, or some un-placeable sound that adds just the right touch. Using an economic metaphor, their songs give you greater return-on-investment--each listening experience feels new.

Two of my favorite Suicide Ali songs are instantly recognizable when I listen to their latest CDs a few days after the show.

Personally, I'm rooting for 805 South, who play the first set at 4 p.m. sharp. Think of them as the Riot Grrrls of the blues: Two ladies sharing lead vocal and songwriting duties, backed by classic instrumentalists on bass, drums, and lead guitar. Each chanteuse has her own sound and style. Rhythm guitarist Lisa Shea proffers a smooth alto that some describe as "female Jimi Hendrix," though she carries a tune much better than that guitar god. Candy Bailey, meanwhile, has a pretty-yet-edgy voice that reminds me of underground power-pop songstresses . Indeed, like Nina and Louise of Veruca Salt, Lisa and Candy are able to combine their different sounds and smoothly trade roles as frontwoman or backup singer.

I never knew that a band--and their fans--could be at once bad-ass and adorable.

But that was the case with Suicide Ali, a Japanese "visual kei" band who made their U.S. debut last weekend at Pacific Media Expo. (And also, to a lesser extent, with L.A. J-rock band VAEIDOS, one of Ali's opening acts).

I've been to plenty hardcore/metal shows, and the sight of hundreds headbanging in unison is common. But after the PMX concert, I'm thinking my new favorite venue is going to be anime/manga/comic book conventions. There's an electricity in the air from fans giving off the vibe that no matter what, the bands onstage can do no wrong. Thus musicians are able to take risks and end up giving a performance that they might have been too timid to do otherwise. Even first-slot act Vamp Star found the audience instantly receptive to their energetic electronica-pop.

Take Suicide Ali, whose music can best be described as a mix of American metal and European goth--but Japanified in that certain je ne sais quois that has to be seen and heard to be understood. (Hint: It may be the uniquely Japanese sense of theatrics complete with insane makeup and costumes, or the lovely melodies juxtaposed over scary instruments.) They'd never played here before--and in their home country are more underground darlings than mainstream idols. But thanks to the love of Asian pop culture fans, and the hardcore Ali fans who flew in special for the convention, the visual kei cuties kicked ass. The first word I wrote in my reviewer's notebook? "Wow!"

Before I go into MacKaye's Q&A speech on Sunday in Hollywood (he's been touring the West Coast the last several days), recall this: The musician/singer/songwriter/Dischord Records founder--of Fugazi and Minor Threat fame-- helped sow the seeds of the punk and hardcore scenes that flourish even now. And from which, in turn, sprung the "emotional hardcore" that begat today's emo.

MacKaye, a lifelong Washington, D.C. resident, talked about both music (he laments that his early band Teen Idles' demo was ruined by a disdainful producer, resulting in it sounding very different from the single that followed) and social activism (he said he welcomed the "Riot Grrl" movement, which is largely credited to the D.C. area, as it helped break down gender barriers in punk and beyond). Indeed, when asked whether music or activism was more important, MacKaye replied, "For me, music is activism."

I'm not writing this post just to school snot-nosed youths and the grown-ups who cater to them. (To be sure, the last line in this post shows MacKaye's not nearly as curmudgeonly as I apparently am.) Mostly, I'm doing it for the peeps--of all ages--who found their lives profoundly affected by him or his bands. It was clear who these fans were when, as pictured above, a lot of them lined up to have MacKaye sign mementos, or just to thank him personally.

Until Wickhead.

I can't say for sure that Wickhead, who hail from Johannesburg, South Africa, sought to wear the '90s mantle into the 21st century. They probably didn't. But End Is The Beginning, their first international CD, intrigues me because it shows this is a band who has learned all the right lessons from the decades before them. There's a definite influence of the '90s and even the '80s, but the elements have a modern--rather than derivative--feel.

Lead singer Bronic's voice has more in common with Robert Smith than Rob Halford--mostly lovely while following melodies that could be at home on theater or club stages, while screaming with the best of them. Guitarists Mark Van Heeden's and Randall Knight's thick, chunky riffs are the meat of the music, possessing the listener as soon as they kick in; they're the reason the band gets categorized as "metal," although I would call them "hard rock." The rhythm section (KJ Forde, drums; Jay Hart, bass) balances radio-ready sensibilities with hitting hard, proving themselves with a 6/8 time signature on one song--a more "metal" one at that!

End Is The Beginning is a group of tunes that would be at home both on the mainstream airwaves, or sharing the stage at underground clubs with less commercially viable musicians. Ultimately, what I like about Wickhead is that I could listen to the CD, or go to a show, with friends whose music tastes aren't as divergent as mine, and we'd all enjoy ourselves. IIn a way, Wickhead is a bit like J-rock, a genre in which the heaviest instruments are always countered by sweet, pretty vocals.

Many bands who'd had tens of thousands of plays for their individual songs found their tunes set back to zero. Sure, those counters have since been returned to normal. But for the few days they were out of wack, it really messed with bands' marketing efforts. Most acts need to show how popular they are, so that they can book gigs or show off to potential labels.

As more of the general social networking population moves to Facebook, MySpace needs to hang onto its niche as the place for musicians. Bugs and oversights like these only hurt its most loyal users.

There's a moment I've come to anticipate at a Death Pilot show: The last movement in the song "The Treatment," in which lead singer "Midian" proclaims, "The dead will rise!" over a steady, intricate blast of drums, bass, keyboard, and guitars. The interlude is at once hypnotic and stirring. But what really gets me is that I'm never sure what it means for the dead to rise. Yes, there's the obvious gothic horror reference. But every time I hear that proclamation--made so effective with "Capt. ?'s" gorgeous backing vocals--I want to interpret it as a positive. A sliver of optimism in a hell-tastic world. Like, maybe the dead whom we miss will rise so that we can be reunited.

I might not be off the mark in perceiving this dichotomy in Death Pilot's music, in seeing a juxtaposition of love and nihilism. "I'm glad that's how it's coming across," Midian tells me as we're parked outside Dream Street in San Diego after the first show of Death Pilot's first national tour. "Like, there's a negative tone yet at the end of it all, there's hope. I've always had this mentality that out of bad things, good things can come out."

Death Pilot, based in Los Angeles, is clearly Midian's brainchild. Yet the singer-songwriter has allowed many other talents to shape and hone his vision. There's the production company Dirty Icon (Logan Mader of Machine Head and Soulfly, and Lucas Banker; 30 Seconds To Mars guitarist Tomo Milicevic also produces the band), who hand-picked Midian to evolve his music and his voice well beyond the initial DP lineup. And then there are seasoned musicians "Ares" (bass) and "Diamondz" (drums), whose skills and musical maturity have turned DP's rhythm section into a formidable, unstoppable weapon. Finally, there's talent mixed with youthful vigor, in keyboardist/backing vocalist "Capt. ?" and guitarists "Machine" and "JD."

Those last two shine onstage during the song "Do Or Die"--though it's as metal as all get-out, the dual guitar lines are more classic-sounding, dare I even say evoking George Harrison? Come to think of it, every Death Pliot song, to me, sound as much like classical composition as metal: There are separate, specific movements, like a Beethoven symphony or Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, each evoking a different emotion: Anger, protest, love, despair, hope. Accordingly, Midian's voice often turns on a dime between sonorous and screamo.

The first time I heard this power duo, they were playing at the DIY-esque Relax Bar in one of the least glamorous parts of Hollywood. These guys give off the intensity and charisma of a thrash band twice their size; my attention was equally split between the singer/guitarist Edward Solis and the drummer, who goes by the name W.C.E., as their technical skills belied the grungy setting and simple-seeming lyrics.

It's Casual's brand of song is even more apparent on their CDs. Forgoing the more esoteric subject matter of socio-political issues--or "life sucks" commentary--often favored by bands of their ilk, It's Casual instead focuses on genuine moments. They're short tales of what it's like to be a struggling DIY band, or the fair-weather-friendship of L.A. business contacts, or--in the case of the band's latest album, The New Los Angeles--snippets of the lives of everyday Angelenos. Real Los Angeles folk--not Hollywood stars, phoney transplants, or wannabe gangstas. Songs include an ode to the 24-hour convenience store ("The Pantry," which for me actually evoked the time I lived the night-owl lifestyle in Japan); the fact that the wrong people are procreating ("Too Many Kids," which is also included on the recent Basement Records compilation); and the joys of public transportation and the agony of highway driving ("EZ Pass" and "The Red Line," respectively). Which, I guess, could also apply to anyone living in a major urban area other than L.A.

Minimal lyrics give a basic outline; it's the music, rather, that evoke the plot and the narrator's true feelings. Some might dismiss such word thrift this as repetition. I view it as a sort of gritty haiku, allowing hard-hitting riffs and drumbeats to do the talking. Syncopation and unusual time signatures--not for the usual three-chord pony!

Full lineup includes Girl Talk, Les Savy Fav, Vampire Weekend, Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head, The Dodos, Kimya Dawson, The Hold Steady and more!

Just email contests AT@ podbop.org by Wednesday the 23rd. Photo by Ryan Muir

"You know what's wrong with the world? The hippies!" Mr. Diddley told me, with very little provocation on my part. It was one of those interviews in which the interviewer need not speak. The guitar legend, who must've had some kind of run-in with unwashed Birkenstock-wearers just prior to the call, let loose with his theory that lack of discipline--enacted by hippies and passsed on to their children--was destroying the world.

I kind of got it, though. After all, the party lifestyle that most people assume goes with being in rock-n-roll is more style than substance. Sure, you can live irresponsibly--but such musicians usually end up dead in a gutter before their time. No, most musicians--whether they admit to it or not--have to work like dogs to get their shot, again and again and again. I've no doubt the blues rocker had his share of hard times, which would have made free-wheeling folks most annoying to him.

Now, wherever he goes, Bo can play strictly for the enjoyement of it. RIP.

Breadpig is a Rock Band (in every sense of the word) composed of Brian Femiano, Jon Swyers, and Alexis Ohanian. Their full album is available on their site but I picked out my two favorite tracks here.

Breadpig's First Show: Live in D.C.:

On a more serious note, all proceeds raised by touring + t-shirts are donated to charity/good causes!