Thanks to Ben at Total Assault, and in honor of Breaking Benjamin’s new album, Dear Agony being released today, I’m bringing you a tantalizing prize pack for you collection. The rules are simple: email me at flak@behindthehype.com why you deserve the included fresh copy of the album, with a signed poster of the band by October 31st, and we will decide on All Hallows Eve.

Breaking Benjamin – I Will Not Bow – Official Music Video (HQ)

To hold you over, check out the latest video from the single I Will Not Bow, also featured on the sci fi thriller soundtrack to Surrogates, starring Bruce Willis. Game on, and good luck!

Until next time my friends,

~Flak

I was only 9 years old when Kurt Cobain died in 1994, much too young to really pay attention to the whirlwind of attention heaped towards ‘grunge’ bands on MTV. As a result, I have only grown to appreciate bands like Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Soundgarden, and their peers in retrospect. Despite the band the fact that they lost one of the best rock voices years ago, Alice in Chains is back from the dead in a BIG way. Their new album Black Gives Way to Blue is out this week, and is an amazing breakthrough for a band that lost its lead singer (and arguably main focal point) when Layne Staley OD’d back in 2002. Remarkably, they found a replacement that does an incredible job channeling Layne’s spirit with his singing, despite looking somewhat like Lenny Kravitz.

When I heard back around 2006 that Alice in Chains was “re-forming” despite the fact that Staley OD’d in 2002, I was skeptical. Staley’s voice, to me, seemed IMPOSSIBLE to imitate correctly. However, the guy they found to take over the singing duties, William DuVall, sounds eerily like Layne. I saw Alice in Chains at Epicenter last month, and I actually got chills when DuVall sang AIC songs such as Man in the Box, Rain When I Die, Rooster, and Would? The similarity between his voice and Layne’s is uncanny.

In most cases when singers die, bands should generally not try to play on with someone else filling in; it’s just not the same. DuVall, though, helps AIC break down that door in grand fashion.

With that said, the new album Black Gives Way to Blue is everything I had hoped it would be. Opening track All Secrets Known is great, a slower tune with sludgy (YES!)  guitars and Duvall singing about “a new beginning…time to start living like just before we die”.

Up next is Check My Brain. When that song and A Looking In View hit the Internet a month or so ago, I was floored. CMB has the requisite Jerry Cantrell riffage that is distinctly Alice in Chains, and despite a chorus that sounds a bit too radio-friendly for AIC standards (“California, I’m fine, somebody check my brain, California’s alright, somebody check my brain”), the song still kills. A Looking In View, though, is as close to classic AIC as one could expect at this point, 19 years or so since they debuted with the breakout album Facelift. Clocking in at 7 minutes, it’s a sludgy, ugly, angry beast of a song that could have been written in 1992. DuVall does some amazing vocal work here, and Cantrell’s guitar work is as badass as ever. The song never really lets up with the balance of aggression and the slow brood that helped give AIC such a distinct sound back in the 1990s.

badass even if they wear hipster scarves now

Your Decision is easily one of the album’s finest, with some acoustic strumming by Cantrell and doubled vocals by DuVall. It would have sounded great on the Unplugged album, and is very memorable.

Last of My Kind bears an unfortunate similarity to Rob Zombie’s Dragula at certain parts, which is more than a bit distracting. It’s basically the exact same guitar riff and singing style, but it is not something that is in the entire song. Still, the similarity is there, and it’s too bad, because the rest of the song is pretty good.

Acid Bubble is another kickass 7 minute song that changes structure a few times and is filled with layered dark angry vocals and downtuned guitar work.

The last track and title cut, Black Gives Way to Blue, features Elton John (YES, the guy from the Lion King) on piano and his playing accentuates DuVall’s lyrics and Cantrell’s acoustic guitar beautifully. It’s a haunting song, and ends the album well.

I figured this album would end up having an unfortunate tribute band feel to it, but DuVall manages to somehow sound just like Staley without his vocal work seeming forced. He has a powerful voice that just so happens to sound almost exactly like Staley’s. DuVall impressed the hell out of me with his performance on this album, as to me this is an Alice in Chains album, not “¾ of the band and a new singer”. Yes, Layne is gone, but they have picked up right from where they were before he succumbed to his drug addiction. Black Gives Way to Blue is an incredible effort by DuVall, Cantrell and friends. Hopefully they stick around long enough to make another album, as they still can clearly still write some awesome music. I sincerely hope this album leads to a full-on grunge revival, as I have some flannel I’d sure love to break out of my closet…

Long before she became known as the figure with a cigarette perched between her lips as she made adjustments to the garment draped over her sewing mannequin, Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel was an orphaned child with little in the way of social status. These facts are laid forth in typical French cinematic elegance in Anne Fontaine’s Coco Before Chanel.

Chanel's reincarnation

As the title suggests, the latest biopic on the fashion femme fatale centers around the events leading up to the fame and fortune she achieved with the Chanel empire. With a somewhat slow-paced beginning, we learn of Chanel’s naive attachment to the idea that her father will return to collect her and her sister, Adrienne (Marie Gillain), from the orphanage they’ve been relegated to, tirelessly waiting every Sunday during visiting hours for him to come. It is possibly the consistent disappointment of her father’s abandonment that turns the young Coco into a somewhat hardened, unreachable chanteuse in an upscale cabaret where every other girl except her and Adrienne seems to offer extra “services” with their singing.

Simplicity was the backbone of Chanel's style revolution

It is here that she meets her soon to be unwitting patron, Etienne Balsan (Benoit Poelvoorde), a wealthy friend of the baron Adrienne has fallen in love with. Using her feminine wiles (a.k.a. fucking his brains out), Coco gets Balsan to get her an audition at a more exclusive nightclub. Unfortunately, Coco does not have the highbrow panache necessary to land the job, coming across as tacky and taudry more than anything else. To add to her mounting troubles, Adrienne decides to quit the act in order to become better suited as the baron marrying type, leaving Coco to fend for herself in the entertainment sector, a required evil to supplement her low-paying day job as a seamstress.

Chanel: 1920s chic

Figuring her sister isn’t the only one who can finagle her way into an aristocrat’s heart, she travels to the outskirts of Paris to find Balsan again. Although he keeps her hidden at first, her stubbornness and offbeat social grace permits her to enter his world with little difficulty. It is at this point in the film that the story starts to become more interesting as Chanel is painted as a complex character with the ennui of a woman dissatisfied by what current societal and fashion maxims have to offer. Along the way, she meets her first and, from what the movie portrays, only great love, Arthur “Boy” Capel, an Englishman who runs in the same social circle as Balsan.

With clandestine paramour "Boy"

Until now, Coco Avant Chanel is not rife with nearly as many cliches as one would expect, but quickly shifts in a manner that strongly resembles the plot and fatalist style of another biopic based on a tragic French woman’s life, that of Edith Piaf as played by Marion Cotillard in La Vie En Rose. While writer-director Anne Fontaine cannot help that there are undoubted parallels between the lives of these two women, it just seemed all too familiar when “Boy” ends up dying in a car crash, just as Edith’s boyfriend Marcel dies in a plane crash. The underlying message seems to be: Don’t ever be a man’s mistress if his preferred method of transportation isn’t walking on foot.

Promotional poster for Coco Avant Chanel

Chanel’s storied life could not possibly fit into a single two hour film and is not likely to be the last rendering we see in the theater, but Fontaine dexterously covers quite a bit of ground, deriving heavily from biographer Edmonde Charles-Roux’s book Chanel and Her World. More than any other element though, Audrey Tautou’s moody, determined portrayal of the illustrious designer is what makes Coco Avant Chanel compelling and watchable.

Chevron's spill has killed thousands already.

There’s a rumble in the jungle, folks.  It’s a David and Goliath battle, and it’s the subject of Joe Berlinger’s excellent new documentary Crude: The Real Price of Oil.  If you’ve ever been a little angry knowing you’re getting screwed at the pump, while oil companies boast record profits, year after year, this movie will let you see what it really means to get screwed by Big Oil.  If you don’t know enough to even be pissed off about it all, just google, ‘Record Profits.’  You don’t even have to type in the word ‘Oil,’ because the first hits go directly to stories about the oil industry’s big profit bonanza.  In May of 2009, Chevron’s annual report boasted record profits for the fourth consecutive year, with ‘profits of $18.7 billion’, just as crude oil prices climbed to their highest levels in 26 years.  But don’t let me bore you with all the numbers, people.  There’s a story in this movie that’s much more fascinating than Chevron’s amazing ability to screw us all at the pump.  Crude is more about Chevron’s costly efforts to screw people out of their basic human rights, in the most criminal way possible.  If a Documentary is not your idea of an action packed summer flick, keep in mind that Crude offers a treacherous villain, a large number of innocent victims, mass disease, and even murder.

Guess who owns Texaco? Chevron!!

 But here’s the kicker: This story isn’t make-believe.  How’s that for a twist?  Granted, there are subtitles, and the pace is a little slow at times, but I challenge you action fans out there to find a fictional villain as scary as the real ones on display in this film. Just imagine a landmark court battle between Chevron and the indigenous people of Ecuador, fought over oil drenched jungle soil, where thousands of people and animals have died, thanks to what’s been referred to as the ‘Amazonian Chernobyl.’  Think big and dirty.  Big as in a spill roughly the size of Rhode Island, and dirty as in ten times worse than the Exxon Valdez disaster.  That’s what this fight is all about.  Fighting in the green corner, coming in at a significant size, and financial disadvantage is our lovable underdog, Pablo Fajardo.  Fajardo is an Ecuadorian lawyer living in a two-room shack, still battling on behalf of the disadvantaged people of his country, even after thirteen years without a ruling from the courts.  During those first few years, Pablo’s brother was murdered when the bad guys hired to kill Pablo got all mixed up, and tortured the wrong guy to death.  Hmm… I wonder who might want Pablo dead?  Fighting against Mr. Fajardo, in the dark and slimy corner, is Chevron, with their endless scare tactics, resources, and spin campaigns, hiding behind their army of lawyers. 

Pablo Fajardo talks into the cameras.

It’s pretty disturbing to watch all the well-paid Chevron representatives speak on behalf of the company in this movie.  These people don’t bat an eye.  Even when they’re exposed to the laundry list of human rights violations their company is responsible for, even when the evidence is completely obvious, these people still find a way to put the money where their mouthes should be.  What’s maybe the most disturbing thing about Crude though, is the fact that Berlinger worked on this film for three years, and there’s still been no verdict in the case, thanks in large part to the company’s efforts to stall proceedings at every turn.  Tack those last three years on to the thirteen that Pablo and his friends have been fighting against Chevron, and you’ve got a total of sixteen years.  Which begs the question: How many angry, dying, indigenous Ecuadorians does it take to prove that Chevron should clean up the enormous toxic mess they made?  How many skin rashes, cancer cases, stomach infections, and dead relatives do these people have to suffer through to get a little justice?  Well, watch the movie, decide for yourself, and get back to me.  I’ll be stringing together every red cent I’ve got so I can afford another gallon of gas, but rest assured, I won’t be buying that shit from Chevron.

Hear ye all you music fans! The wonderful Samanta B. over at FILTER Magazine saw the work yours truly did on the A Fine Frenzy album, and brought us this special giveaway. You see, FILTER publishes Ragged Magazine (www.raggedmag.com), a website that mixes fashion and music for artists who support American Rag clothing. Alison Sudol (frontwoman of A Fine Frenzy) recently did some work with them, and that brings us to where we are today.

Heres a video (part one of three) of her photoshoot for the mag:

So on to the goods. There’s a prizepack to be won, featuring an issue of Ragged Magazine, A Fine Frenzy’s latest album, Bomb in a Birdcage, Taking Back Sunday’s New Again and a slew of other albums. The entire issue is free online now at www.raggedmag.com so have a look.

I’m running the contest through October 20^th, and all you have to do is shoot me an email at flak@behindthehype.com to enter. I’ll hand pick the winner myself, so convince me!

Until next time my friends,

~Flak

Northern Cali’s own A.F.I. (or A Fire Inside, depending on your level of fandom) make their less than triumphant return to the music world this week with their new release, the lamely-titled Crash Love. I had been convinced that the band’s 2006 album Decemberunderground was just about as bad as they could possibly get, but with Crash Love they have proven once and for all that any semblance of “fire” that may have been burning previously in their career has finally been extinguished (ooh see what I did there?)

Decemberunderground was basically the total polar opposite from the hardcore/punk sound that eventually gave the band mainstream success and a spot on many a tween’s iPod alongside My Chemical Romance and bands of their ilk with hits such as Girls Not Grey and Leaving Song Pt. 2. That last album was filled with bland goth dance-y pop tunes like Love Like Winter and the hit Miss Murder. Well, against all odds, Crash Love actually manages to somehow be even worse than Decemberunderground.

This time around, A.F.I has basically abandoned much of the signature sound and aggression that marked their earlier songs (and throughout the breakout album Sing the Sorrow), replacing them with insipid midtempo dreck. Front man Davey Havok squeals and croons along with the songs, but never in a particularly engaging manner.

Even the last album had almost a signature A.F.I tune, Kill Caustic, with a tangible energy and Havok’s high pitched, intense vocals giving the song the typical A.F.I sound, but there really isn’t anything close to that this time around.I

I was hoping Crash Love would be a ‘return to form’ by the band but they didn’t seem to care about making me happy. In fact, the b-side I heard on the Internet a few weeks ago, Fainting Spells, is actually better than any of the songs that made the cut for the album, which is obviously a bad sign.

I can really only say there are about 3.5 “good” songs on Crash Love. The opener, Torch Song, is decent and has a good sense of energy and some appealing background vocals. Alas, it is not foreshadowing of a good album. Beautiful Thieves is adequate as the second track, but when you have to use the word ‘adequate’ to refer to one of the album’s ‘better’ tracks that’s never a good thing. Medicate is, dare I say it, good, but it’s obvious the band tried hard with this one to recapture the catchiness of Girls Not Grey and Miss Murder, as the song is pure, straightforward mainstream emo goth rock designed to be played in-store in Hot Topic chains. The only other song I liked somewhat is Cold Hands, and I only like the intro and the song’s chugging guitar riff. The chorus drags it down into mediocrity, as I guess A.F.I wasn’t content to actually craft a good complete song out of it.

I don’t really have any desire to listen to the other songs on the record ever again. They’re just so…ineffectual. Too Shy to Scream has a silly dance beat and hand claps that work together to create a VERY annoying and poppy sound. End Transmission is throwaway as well, with Havok singing about “the broken radio playing suicide” or some such nonsense, all set to a dull plodding drone. Bleck.

The rest of the tunes on Crash Love aren’t really worth mentioning. I’m sure one or a few of them will end up on the radio, but overall the album is a big steaming pile of boring that really marks (in my mind at least) the creative death of A.F.I. Long gone are the days of inspired, gripping songs such as Days of the Phoenix, Totalimmortal, and God Called in Sick Today. Taking their place are lame formulaic goth punk radio rock tunes that aim to please everyone but fail to hit any targets. No one seems to have really cared about the Used’s recent album, so maybe that goth dance punk thing has finally reached its end…whether or not that’s the case, one thing’s for sure: A.F.I has clearly run out of ideas.

If you don’t know who Paramore is by now…well, there’s really no help for you. Wiki defines their music type as emo, pop punk, and alternative rock., which I suppose is accurate. In any case, they have a new album called Brand New Eyes. Now, I have a love/hate relationship with Paramore. I like a few of their songs a lot, but most of it is terribad. This album has not changed my feelings. I crave the energy that Paramore can produce from songs like Misery Business and Fences. But most of the time, Paramore decides that it is okay to play slow, and they become gayer than the gayest rainbow. Hint: While gay rainbows are acceptable, playing punk music slowly is not. Ever. And I don’t care if you’re a hybrid band that isn’t just punk. If you decide to ever be punk, you don’t get to slow down.

Brand New Eyes Album Cover

Brand New Eyes is filled with treachery and lies.  Opening with Careful, I was led to believe that maybe this one would be different. While it is not the best song I’ve ever heard, it was definitely at the quality level minimum that is required for me to not delete music. Which is to say, that I like the song. It produces energy, has rocking beats (the drummer, Zac Farro, has some serious skills),  and Hayley Williams is at her vocal best in these types of songs. Better yet, the song is followed by Ignorance, which may be the best song Paramore has ever written.  So far, I’m intrigued. I’m liking the album. I think Paramore has finally transitioned from bad to good. I’m happy.

Yea...it's gayer than that

Then the slow songs start, and they seem to go on forever. Each song is basically a lifetime of torment. Playing God has a saving grace. The lyrics are hilarious. “Next time you point a finger…I might have to break it off.” I’m a fan of violence, so this appeals to me. Turns me on even. But, that doesn’t make the song good. At Brick by Boring Brick, my brother left the room claiming he had a headache. He did, and it was caused by Paramore.  I agreed with Turn It Off and only continued listening to be fair to the rest of the album. The Only Exception might be heartfelt, but it’s slow and it’s boring.  So far 2/7 songs I like. 2/7 songs I tolerate. And 3/7 songs have already been removed from my memory.

Feeling Sorry, Looking Up, and Where the Lines Overlap all share the same features. They’re mildly energetic, slightly boring, and overall mediocre. Any song where Hayley isn’t basically rapping (singing fast and adding the spiteful hatred that her voice is so great for) just doesn’t fit with the image I’ve built myself of Paramore. None of these songs have that.

Misguided Ghosts and All I Wanted finish off the album epically. As in, they are epically slow, and I don’t care for them at all. By this point, I’m glad to be done listening. Decode from the Twilight soundtrack has been added as a bonus to the international versions. By now you’ve formed your opinions on that song. If you haven’t, I’ll help. It’s not bad, but it’s not great.

And so Brand New Eyes changes nothing. Paramore continues to be a band that has potential. I personally think they just don’t want to use it. They could be so much better if they focused on the speed, the energy, and the powerful vocals that make them special. There are lots of bands that can produce deep emotional feelings with slow songs. Paramore is not one of them. They just become annoying when they stop being filled with hate and spite!

‘The Gang Hits the Road‘ is about the gang taking a road trip to the grand canyon. On the way there they run into a disgruntled biker, stop off at the Italian market to barter with some gypsy’s, try to cook hot dogs in a mobile storage unit, and pick up a hitchhiker. The first ten or so minutes of the episode were a bit boring. It was basically just all five of them bickering and bitching. I mean, it was amusing just hearing them bicker, but they weren’t really saying anything particularly funny.

The second half of the episode is when it gets really hilarious. All the scenes at the Italian market were great. One moment in particular when Mac (Rob Mcelhenny) is explaining to Charlie (Charlie Day) how to eat a pear was classic, and the scene is punctuated with the line ‘I EAT STICKERS ALL THE TIME DUDE!’. Haha, oh Charlie, you fucking idiot. The scene with Dee (Kaitlin Olson) and the hitchhiker was also pretty funny. Their ‘name the states while you drink’ drinking game was great. Another good part was when Dennis (Glenn Howerton) and Charlie decide to light a fire inside of a small storage unit, which ends with expectedly horrible results. But the BEST part of the episode had to be the ending. You’re probably going to be able to guess what happens while you’re watching the episode, but I won’t spoil it. I’ll just say the comic timing and the camera work are pitch perfect. The ending seriously had me short of breath.

The most horrible people in the world

One thing I’m starting to notice though is how stupid Frank (Danny Devito) has become. He used to be the semi voice of reason among these selfish assholes. But now he’s become equally as stupid as the rest of the gang. It’s a bit annoying because now there’s no X factor among the five main characters. Frank used to add an extra dimension to the show but now they could honestly get rid of him and the show would be pretty much the exact same.

After a rather weak season opener I was starting to fear that Always Sunny was beginning it’s decline toward lameness. Thankfully though ‘The Gang Hits the Road’ eased those fears a little bit. It’s a funny episode. And while it’s not close to the best in the cache of episodes, it’s good enough to be called a “good” episode. And if all the episodes this season are as good as this one, i’ll walk away satisfied.

Portugal. The Man. Again I need to stress just how badass this band is. Not only musically, but as human beings.

After being ripped off for fifteen dollar parking, I made my way towards the Troubadour, looming in the distance. Whilst griping to myself, I hoped “damn, I hope I run into the guys tonight… that would make my night”. As if on cue I look up across the street, to see Zach and Nataly merrily making their way down the street. After the futile attempts to talk from across the busy Santa Monica Boulevard, we eventually meet up and head in.

I try to give Ryan a handshake, but he insists we bring it in for the real thing, and gives me a hug. It’s  still staggering how laid back these guys are. Instead of hanging out in the band room above the main floor, they instead hang around and sign autographs, while sharing kind words about their opening band for the evening, Drug Rug.

Drug Rug is a band for lovers. Comprised of front woman Sarah, accompanied by Tommy, Julian and Dan, the bands roles were changed throughout the set. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a band so talented as to switch up the roles. In the live aspect, this is what will draw the crowd in; having jobs change on the fly.

For me, I got the feel-good feeling of a shoegaze daddy who had a lovechild with a southern belle while on tour, thus creating Drug Rug. Drawing from both their 2007 self titled release, and their latest 2009 album, Paint the Fence Invisible, I felt like I should have brought a pair of my cowboy boots to have a better stomping on the floor effect. But the crowd loved the energy so much; they took care of the stomping for me.

Thanks to Kenny, new front man of bone grinding metal band Halo of Gunfire being in attendance with the PTM crew, I was given a sticker to head upstairs to the VIP to finish out listening to the set. After a round of celebratory round of Kamikaze shots (thanks again Nat), we wormed down to stage right for a personal touch.

Ryan kicked it off with his keys to summon the rest of the band before our faces were melted off. I wish that I had stolen the setlist off the stage, but an aspiring fan really wanted it, and being the awesomely gracious person I am, I let him take it home.

The dedication of the fans are something to be admired, as throughout the night I heard people discussing what great lengths and how many failed attempts some had made to try and catch the band live. I’m sure at the next show I’ll hear those same stories echo, as last night’s show was a sold out one.

This set was much different than the Outside Lands set, with a more spread out approach (record wise) for its duration. AKA M80 the Wolf, caused a ruckus, with Zachs signature body drop-back-twist move throughout the chorus.

Of course Church Mouth reared its beautiful head with its title track. I prayed for Dawn, my favorite PTM song, but alas, maybe next time. The band had a lot of ground to cover, with an album being released every year since 2005. 1989 got the entire crowd singing with John, clad in his puffy vest with OG Spock flare to boot. Also getting the crowd singing along was People Say from their latest album, The Satanic Satanist (on my upcoming best albums of the year feature).I was more than happy however, to scream the chorus to Work All Day (third favorite song by the boys), after yelling “Portugal the guy!!” per Nataly’s request at the count of three.Towards the end of the set, we were treated to Do You (the latest video to which is badass), which felt right at home, making sci fi lovers happy.

The band later made their exit, with fans’ voices ablaze, which turned into the chanting of “POR-TU-GAL!! POR-TU-GAL!! POR-TU-GAL!!” Finally, Zach came back down to thank the crowd, his words being drowned out by their screams. The returned for a short encore, including Chicago, before bidding the crowd adieu.

This was an incredible show, with creative interludes between tracks, that would have The Mars Volta nod in approval. The stage presence always surprises me, as this band is for the most part, undefined. But it’s comforting to know the diverse (musically) crowd that I noticed while at the show.

The band took time afterword to sign memorabilia, and I offered to take a few pictures for the fans who want them. If you want the big versions, feel free to email me, and I’ll make it happen for you.

Well played gentlemen, and see you soon.

Until next time my friends,

~Flak

There is something strange about the feeling you get when seeing the Pet Shop Boys in concert. It is almost like the time between now and 1986 never passed because their stage spectacle is so unashamedly hedonistic. The only element working against the illusion of being frozen in a decade is the age of the audience and the Pet Shop Boys themselves. Naturally, the PSB draws a mixed bag of people: Trannies, young effeminate gay men in tight pants and suspenders with long, wispy bangs, the middle-aged people who just want to hear “West End Girls,” and older gay gentleman established enough to afford the pit section at the Greek.

Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe: Frozen in time

The European overtones of the show were in full effect as dancers with square-shaped heads emerged for the crowd-pleasing opener “Heart,” which transitioned much too quickly into “Did You See Me Coming?” off of their latest album Yes.  After “Pandemonium” mixed with traces of “Can You Forgive Her?” the Pet Shop Boys slowed it down somewhat early in the show by performing “Love Comes Quickly,” but then sagely picked up the mood again with the inoculable first single off of Yes, “Love, Etc.,” the lyrics of which are something out of a fairy tale as Neil touts, “Don’t have to be a big bucks Hollywood star/Don’t have to drive a super car to get far/Don’t have to live a life of power and wealth/Don’t have to be beautiful but it helps.” If only there were a shred of veracity somewhere in there, but it is perhaps the only attempt the Pet Shop Boys make at letting go of the eighties philosophy of excess and emptiness held in other songs like “Two Divided By Zero” or “Domino Dancing,” both also included in the set list.

One mind: Two men

For some reason, the crowd went wildest when the duo performed “Go West,” one of the worst singles they’ve ever put out. Maybe it had something to do with being in L.A. though. Actually, it was the PSB’s only nod to the west coast in the entire show. Most of their songs, “New York City Boy” in particular, are geared toward the high-fashion, high-powered life of a New Yorker (pre-economic catastrophe of course). There are some songs where L.A. is mentioned casually, as in “The Way It Used To Be,” when Neil mentions one of the lovers in the song getting “Culver City blues” or in “Love, Etc.” when both Hollywood and Beverly Hills are referred to. At least you have to admire them for their specificity, but I won’t be truly convinced that they give a shit about L.A. until they start using Echo Park in their lyrics.

Blockhead Neil Tennant opens the show with "Heart"

In total, the synthpop dup performed twenty-two songs, some brilliantly executed, others severe blunders in judgment (namely the cover of Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida”). The dash and daringness of The Pet Shop Boys is still just as strong as it ever was though, evidenced by singing “King’s Cross,” a slow jam with little fan appreciation. Another standout moment was the interpretive dancing of “Jealously.” Don’t get too excited though because it wasn’t Neil and Chris doing the spurned lovers dance, but two backup dancers clad in bright red (for symbolic effect naturally).

Performing "Love, Etc."

Toward the end of the show, Neil uttered one of about three sentences said all night: “Thank you for this wonderful, hot evening at the Greek!” No matter the somewhat callous stage presence. Any faults were forgiven when the encores, “Being Boring” and “West End Girls,” were performed, the former of which was actually preferable. They emerged to sing “Being Boring” in garish party hats as Neil delivered his lushest vocals of the evening to say “I never dreamt that I would get to be/The creature that I always meant to be/But I thought in spite of dreams/You’d be sitting somewhere here with me.”

Singing "Why Don't We Live Together?" with dancing buildings

When it was over, I was left missing “What Have I Done To Deserve This?” and “Flamboyant,” but I have no doubt the next tour will include some of the tracks overlooked in favor of promoting the Yes album. And there will be another tour–if the Pet Shop Boys’ Pandemonium Tour is any indication of the flagrant stage/musical adventurousness to come.