380 days ago, Badfish came to a well-attended Town Ballroom and, mainly because of their firecracker of a trombone player, put on a tremendous performance. As tempted as I might be, and despite the fact that I am writing about a cover band, I am not going to copy and paste my preview from last year and attempt to get away with it. Although I guess it would be pretty funny if I tried to "cover" last year's preview, I am making the decision not to less because of journalistic integrity and more because of my desire to talk more about the trombone player. He was infectious. He led the charge. I've never seen a horn player take over a show like that.

I guess that's what a great cover band needs. Any group of assholes can cover a Sublime song, but not many can make a living doing it. Badfish isn't successful by accident; they play Sublime almost to the note, but afterwards, you still feel like you just saw a Badfish show. Last year, we were literally looking around people's heads to get a better view of the dude playing the trombone. He was half horn player, half hype man. It was unbelievable. I hope he's back this year.

Tickets are still available for $19. Tropidelic takes the stage just before Badfish. Doors open at 7pm.

It happens every year. It used to happen to me, too. Around February or March – when the Bonnaroo lineup is announced – I can count on at least one or two of my friends swearing to go. Sometimes it’s me leading the charge. I remember calling my brother one time, pleading with him to consider going, and his response was as hilarious as it was decisive: “Joe, isn’t it in Tennessee or something?”

So to help you – or to crush your hopes and dreams, I’m not really sure – I’ve come up with a guide for what you can expect to happen if you think you're totally going to Bonnaroo this year.

Stage 1: Reaction to the lineup announcement that you’ve been waiting for since December
Elton John and Kanye West are headlining this year. Sweet mother of fuck, that’s unbelievable. And how are Cake and Slightly Stoopid on the eighth line down? Is Skrillex really playing two sets? The Wild Feathers are the third to last band mentioned? Really? Did you hear their album this year? Jesus Christ, this is the best lineup I have EVER seen.

Stage 2: Send out a feeler on Facebook, letting everyone know your intentions
“Okay. For real. I’m totally going to Bonnaroo this year, and I’m not even kidding. Broken Bells and Cage the Elephant are in the MIDDLE of the lineup, which is just insane. Who’s coming?”

Stage 3: Eager research
The campgrounds look sick. Hanging out around a campfire with a beer and a joint in the middle of a farm in Tennessee at the end of the night sounds like a fucking dream. I don’t know how I feel about there being a 5k run this year at Bonnaroo, and I can all but guarantee I won’t be anywhere near it, but damn it feels good to have that as an option. Oh wow, there’s yoga too? I’m not into yoga, in the slightest, but I’m not above walking by and seeing what’s up, if you know what I’m sayin’. Oh shit, how did I miss Pusha T and ZZ Ward on the lineup? Do you think they know that they both have an album called ‘Til The Casket Drops? Are they going to be playing together on stage or something? That would be sick.

Stage 4: The first episode of having second thoughts after a lukewarm response to your Facebook post
4 likes, no comments. Okay, okay. It’s early. Also, I mean, Vampire Weekend and The Avett Brothers are good…but are they headline-good? I don’t really need to see Elton John; I can just watch Almost Famous again if I want a little taste. And where has Frank Ocean been since Channel Orange? I mean, it was released almost two years ago, and he’s one of the top acts this year? But there’s gonna be food trucks. And I’m sure the crowd and the people everywhere are gonna be awesome. I’m gonna meet so many cool people.

Stage 5: Drunk conversation a few weeks later at a bar with a friend, making tentative plans to go
“Seriously, we need to go. Like I’m not even kidding. I mean we have to. When have we ever done something like this? You still haven’t seen The Flaming Lips live, and I don’t even know how that’s possible. Do you even realize how much fun it will be? I know you said you don’t like Drive-By Truckers, or that you think they are too country or some shit, but I’m TELLING you, you need to see them live. Let’s do it. Let’s just do it. Come on! My brother’s friend has an RV that we might be able to use. Thing is sick, it’s got two beds, a full kitchen, a bathroom. I think he’s even got an old N64 in there. We’ll get someone to drive us – how hard can that be – so we can drink the whole way down. You’re in? Fuck yeah! I’ll talk to my brother tomorrow!”

Stage 6: First hitch in your plans because your brother’s friend’s RV was sold 5 years ago
“Yeah man. I guess that kid sold it a while back. That’s cool though. Isn’t there a place on Niagara Falls Boulevard that rents them? They can’t be that much, can they? You think so? You think they’re that much? I’ll check it out today, I’ll get back to you.”

Stage 7: Second episode of having second thoughts after realizing how much RV’s cost
Wow. This was unexpected. A weekly RV rental is like $1,000 and they get approximately 3 miles to the gallon. I’ll need at least 2 g’s just to get through Pennsylvania. And I’ve never really loved Lionel Richie. I mean he’s a big name and everything but…I guess I’ve just never really identified with him. And he’s one of the big names this year? Is it really that great of a year? Jack White is kind of awesome but he’s also kind of a wildcard. I guess we could fly? Then we gotta buy camping gear down there, or find a hotel and figure out a shuttle plan, and that really becomes a WHOLE thing. How much are the actual tickets anyway? $250 if we get them today? $300 if we have to wait a few weeks to get the money together? Shit, we have to decide kind of soon. Are we really going to do this?

Stage 8: Reluctantly admitting to yourself a month later that it might not happen
I have to go to this wedding in May, the Arctic Monkeys are gonna be coming to Buffalo this year anyway, and I’m sure all of my friends are gonna want to go to Morrissey which is gonna be another $50 right there. And I’m kind of done with Phoenix, in a way. They're never going to replicate Wolfgang. Are they? Maybe they will. But can I really take off that much time from work? Realistically, probably not.

Stage 9: Closure, and looking forward to something else
This is what the Palladia channel is for, right? Watching The Head and the Heart close-up on your 60’ flat screen has to be better than seeing them in person amongst thousands of stupid hippies jostling for position, right? I’m sure the crowd is going to be insufferable. And I love the Tedeschi Trucks Band, but I wouldn’t HATE flipping the channel for just for one second during one of their 20-minute jam sessions. And the Lollapalooza lineup is about to be announced. Yeah. Let’s just go to Lollapalooza this year.

Drive-By Truckers, a band who has occupied that vaguely-defined space between southern rock and country for over two decades, bring their high-powered attack to Town Ballroom tonight. Are they an under-appreciated, Lynyrd Skynyrd-style group of legends, or just an above-average country band that you've kind-of sort-of heard of but never really got into? I'd argue for the former, but definitions are for dictionaries and get thrown out the window when a good band comes to play at Town Ballroom. Don't take that the wrong way: Drive-By Truckers are not just any old good band. They play old-fashioned, old school southern rock, but they are an outspoken, socially conscious band, which sets them apart from the current collection of swill that people call country music. Tonight ($30, 7pm) is going to be loud, and bold, and you do not want to miss it.

Yesterday, "Good Time," the long-awaited, much-teased single from Paris Hilton and Lil' Wayne, officially dropped. There have been some contenders, but I think we've finally found the worst song in the history of the world. I'm saying this as an overall fan of Lil' Wayne, and an accidental defender of Paris Hilton (When she released her first single, "Stars are Blind," I was in a bit of a weird phase and maybe admitted that I kind of liked it). But anyway, "Good Time" is is irredeemably bad. These are Paris Hilton's lyrics:

Are you having a good time
Cause I'm having a good time
And I might be a bit tipsy
But that's okay 'cause you're with me

I came here just to party
All this don't you hate on me, yeah
Got my sexy girls with me
Oh, I love it

Wo-oh, let's party
Yeah, let's party, and have a good time
Wo-oh, let's party
Yeah, let's party, and have a good time

There go the paparazzi
I really don't give a fuck, who got in my way
'Cause I came to party rock
Good times are here, and you know they're here to stay
If you're not here to party, move and get out of the way

Those are the the lyrics she sings, in various degrees of repetition. That's it. That's what Young Money just signed her for and paid her to do. The fourth paragraph is her big verse, and look out, Paris came to tear some shit up. She doesn't give a fuck about the paparazzi. That's some pretty edgy stuff.

Yes, she's hot. Yes, she spends the entire video in a bikini. But why subject yourself to listening to an awful song when you can just watch her sex tape and call it a day? Lil' Wayne, unsurprisingly, totally mails-in his verse. I, as usual, have no idea what the fuck he is talking about.

As for the video itself, the cuts are so quick and disorienting that you can't really tell how good of a time these people are having. For whatever reason, there is a blow-up giraffe and a blow-up zebra hanging out by the pool. I guess those things are fun. I kept looking for Fred Durst, another fairly recent Young Money signee, another veteran of the sex-tape world, hanging out poolside in his hoodie and red Yankees fitted. He wasn't there, but look at the heat Young Money is now packing: Can you imagine a sex tape, I mean music video with Limp Bizkit, Paris Hilton, and Nicki Minaj? The future is full of potential.

Whispers of Steel Keys and Brass' debut, self-titled LP first became audible late last year, but it wasn't until this past weekend that the band finally dropped SKB, a tight, powerful collection of blues-rock. If you've seen this band live, you were just as excited for this release as I was. They've been known to play until the wee hours of the morning at various Allen St. establishments, closing down the bar, leaving nothing in their wake but cans of PBR, empty shot glasses, and a vague feeling that something special has just happened. Thankfully, their music is now available without having to jockey for position at the cozy, but infuriatingly-shaped Hardware Cafe. I'd still recommend listening with a PBR in your hands, though, because why not.

In the interest of full-disclosure, I should tell you that I know the band. They're cool dudes. But even if I hated these fuckers, I'd still have to tip my cap. I feel like most of the music that has been shoved in my face this summer has been crap, so it was with an eager hand that I popped SKB into my car, and it was with an optimistic ear that I began listening.

And it was great. Of course it was great. Steel Keys and Brass are a talented, hard-working group of people; I know this for a fact because of how often my one buddy in the band tells me he can't go out drinking because he has practice. Well it's paid off, and then some: "Boxcar," "She Don't Complain," and "Sunset Blue," the first three songs on the album, are a hell of a way to get things going. They are extremely impressive. I listened to "Sunset Blue," a song I've heard live dozens of times over the past couple of years, and was blown away by the minute-long fuzzy guitar solo midway through the song. I don't remember ever hearing it - maybe it's because half the time I listen to them I'm jockeying for position at Hardware Cafe. But now it's immortalized on SKB and officially a part of my life, which is just wonderful.

Before this starts to sound like nothing more than some cheap PR for the band, let me just remind you that it's not. When it comes to local bands we follow the old, kindergarten-taught lesson that if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all, but that doesn't mean we're gonna call a shitty band "different" or a shitty song "experimental." We don't outwardly seek silver linings just for the hell of it. Had this album sucked, I'd have lied and told them it was good and moved on with my life. But SKB is an album that needs to be heard. "Boxcar," the opening track, is as good a song as any in the genre and hand to God, I'm writing this of my own volition. It may seem like an outlandish statement, so I've posted the song below to make it as easy as possible for you to try to prove me wrong.

Other highlights of the album include the quick, playful "New Mexico, 1984," and my long-time favorite "N.D.G.H.," a heavy-hitter tucked away towards the end of the album. And you may want to grab a tissue and a close friend when you listen to Nick Kryder sing about love found and love lost on the 4th track "Chicago." SKB is a professional-sounding album by an amateur band; it manages to be heavy, funky, and sexy all at once. Check out their Facebook page to find out how to get your hands on a copy.

The Great Wall of China is an ancient fortification, built milleniums ago by a countless number of Chinese workers who were lucky enough to survive the construction. It is easily the most iconic structure in the world.

Here is a picture of Justin Bieber being carried up its steps, because Justin Bieber is a dickhead. He is (arguably) looking at his phone, while being carried up the steps of The Great Wall of China. Forget about him disrespecting this insanely important and awe-inspiring monument, because that can probably be forgiven. But he flew across the world and went through whatever it takes to physically get to The Great Wall only to decide, upon arriving, that he couldn't muster up the energy to climb up its steps. That's completely ridiculous. If he did it just to be a baller, then fuck him. But if he did it because he actually didn't want to walk, that suggests a deeper, sociopathic problem.

“Who we listening to?” a buddy of mine asked.

“Drake,” I replied.

“Fuck Drake,” he said.

Indeed. In a lot of ways, fuck Drake. He burst onto the rap scene about 5 years ago, and has been slowly losing momentum ever since. His albums have consistently been snooze-fests. Nothing Was The Same, his new album, is no different. “Started From The Bottom,” decent at best, is by far the best song on the album, and let me tell you this: “Started From The Bottom” has no business being the best song on any album.

Drake is a man that berthed the phrase YOLO, and for that he should be judged with a very firm hand. Interestingly, “The Motto,” the song that popularized the phrase, is probably my favorite song by him. It shows off his flow, and it's catchy as hell. That's the problem with Nothing Was The Same and that's why I'm only listening to it because I made a commitment to review it: it's slow and dull, and its berthed an equally-annoying phrase I'll dub catchy as heaven.

Drake is not Frank Ocean. Drake is not John Legend. He was really good when he first came out because he just went after it, and he is really good on songs that he is featured on because he just goes, but on Nothing Was The Same, we could do without the slow jams. There are just way too many songs that sound like what he plays in his bedroom as he's getting it in. There are just way too many songs that sound like he's already paired them with a glass of wine. There are just way too many songs that sound like he wrote them as he was slowly drifting into outer space.

And really, qualities like that in a song are not necessarily a bad thing. But it depends greatly on the artist. That's the whole reason for the “Fuck Drake,” comment above: He's at his best when he's going hard and quick, and that just doesn't happen enough on Nothing Was The Same.

A particularly annoying moment takes place in the first song, “Tuscan Leather.” Towards the middle of the song, Drake asks, “How much time is this nigga spendin' on the intro?” The implication is that a lot of artists record a one-minute intro and call it a day, while Drake records a six-minute intro and considers himself a baller. Well, it's extremely easy to spend a lot of time on an intro when that is your only goal. Congratulations, man. The metaphor is that Drake's career is just getting started, while many of his comrades blow up overnight and just as quickly fade away. What Drake doesn't understand, though, is that he's falling out of favor quicker than he thinks. 

Grade: C-

A few hours ago, UB announced its annual Fall Fest lineup: on October 13, A$AP Rocky, Ace Hood, Super Mash Bros., and A$AP Ferg will be coming to Baird Point, or probably Alumni Arena, because UB's track record of actually having one of their bi-annual fests outside is not great. This is not a knock on the event organizers or anything of the sort, but, at least when I was a student there, Baird Point was this elusive, mythical venue, and the weather hated us.

Anyway, this show: it's either going to be an evening of epic hip-hop, or a cautionary tale of what happens when there are too many A$AP's in one spot. The concert might be over in 20 minutes, who knows. But if the rumors turn out to be true, A$AP Rocky might be out of the closet right around the time he comes to UB, which would generate some big-time buzz for the kind-of-underwhelming lineup.

The show, as always, is free to UB undergrads. More ticket info coming soon.