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LONDON -- The Anschutz Entertainment Group, the commercial monolith that promoted the 50 Michael Jackson concerts here that will never happen, pretty much had the whole town riled up by Wednesday morning. AEG, which is part of the same Philip Anschutz empire that brought "Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs" to the Dallas Museum of Art (and which owns the Nokia Theatre at Grand Prairie), came up with a no-refund alternative to Jackson's ill-fated concert series that provoked a Fleet Street frenzy of angry headlines. AEG Live says that anyone who wants a full refund to Jackson's ill-fated series of 50 concerts at the O2 (the London arena and exhibition enclave where the King Tut show played before coming to Dallas) can get one, but, if you're willing to consider a no-refund alternative, have they got a deal for you! Fans can have their very own souvenir ticket, to a concert that will never happen! And, claims AEG, it's one that Jackson himself designed shortly before his death! (Please click below to read on.)

Photo: Michael Jackson performing during halftime of the Jan. 31, 1993 Super Bowl, won by the Dallas Cowboys 52-17

LONDON -- This city may come to be known as the beginning of the end for Michael Jackson. That certainly appeared to be the conclusion of the London Evening Standard on Friday night, when the blaring headline read: "JACKSON FAMILY BLAMES LONDON." The story quoted family lawyer Brian Oxman as accusing "enablers" of "pushing Jackson too hard physically in preparation for the 50 comeback concerts in London" that were scheduled to begin July 13. And where were those shows supposed to take place? The O2, the sprawling arena and exhibition enclave in East London where "Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs" took place before heading to the Dallas Museum of Art last October. The O2 has welcomed through its doors Celine Dion, the Eagles and Tut. Its owner is the Anschutz Entertainment Group, which, of course, is headed up by reclusive Colorado billionaire Philip Anschutz, who also owns Arts and Exhibitions International, which, along with the Egyptian government, staged the Tut show at the DMA. MTV reported that the Anschutz Entertainment Group faced the "daunting task" of having to refund $85 million in ticket sales for 50 sold-out concerts and that Jackson had passed a physical to obtain insurance for the 50 concerts. The Los Angeles Times reported that AEG had invested a reported $20 million in production costs for the "This Is It" concerts with an expected profit of about $115 million and a three-year worldwide tour that could have grossed $450 million. By Monday, the focus had shifted a bit, with the London papers quoting Joe Jackson, the singer's father, about allegations of foul play, almost as though London itself were getting a reprieve when it came to the blame game. (Please click below to read on.)

Photo: Michael Jackson

OK, Jerry: One complaint -- I just got stuck in the ladies' room outside the media area for, oh, 10 minutes. I closed the door for privacy, only to discover -- NO HANDLE on the inside. I understand about being "still in progress," but still ... it was a little scary. I had to text-message my cohort, Mario Tarradell, to come get me, and the first time it wouldn't go through (the TRUE terror of seeing "no bars" on the cellphone). It did finally go through ... but I had been pounding on the door for about 10 minutes by then. LOVELY bathroom, but I didn't want to spend the last 10 minutes of George Strait in there. Invest in door handles, soon.

T-shirt watching is a pastime of mine. I like seeing and reading what's on them and who's wearing them. I get a kick out of it. During the stage set change from Lee Ann Womack into Blake Shelton two members of Shelton's road crew caught my eye. One had on a black T that said "Blake Shelton Crew." Obvious, right? So far so good. Then another guy had a Foreigner Agent Provocateur tour shirt. Hmm...that one made me stare. Agent Provocateur is Foreigner's fifth studio album. It was released in 1984 and is best known for featuring the sought-after, gospel-tinged ballad "I Want to Know What Love Is." I thought "how cool" and "how odd" almost at the same time. Would love to know the back story of that guy's torso attire.

Haven't had much time to blog from the George Strait concert, what with actually trying to cover the concert, but I must say, I'm surprisingly impressed by Cowboys Stadium as a concert venue. The sound and sightlines are wonderful, and the 60-yard-wide video screens, which I expected to detract from the live ambiance of a concert, actually add to the experience, because you can see every emotion on the performers' faces. You also catch interesting glimpses of the band, such as the photos the keyboard player has set on his instrument as, one supposes, inspiration.

No offense to Julianne Hough, but most fans were thrilled that Lee Ann Womack filled in for her -- if someone's going to get bragging rights to being the first performer at Cowboys Stadium, it seems only fitting that it's a native Texan and someone of her stature.

I also have to mention how accommodating the Cowboys staff was, even sending two AT&T guys to help us when we had connectivity issues. Honestly, I was kind of dreading the insanity of tonight, but now I'm thrilled and excited to say I was here on opening night. It's a gorgeous, fabulously appointed facility, and Dallas-Arlington-Fort Worth can be very proud of it. Thumbs up, Jerry.

When it comes to music, we all have our favorites. And Jimmy LaFave has rapidly become one of mine. I first heard his name a few years back from Abby Goldstein, whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting. Abby once hosted a dynamite show on KERA-FM (90.1) called Lone Star Saturday Night. She played LaFave, Robert Earl Keen, Billy Joe Shaver, Lisa Loeb, Rhett Miller, The Derailers, Slaid Cleaves, Guy Clark and many other Texas heavyweights. I was driving around on a rainy night when I first heard her play LaFave's terrific cover of "Walk Away Renée," a hit single in 1966 by The Left Banke. Judging by the way he handles it, only LaFave was meant to record that song. Sadly, Abby moved to New England in 2006, spelling the end of Lone Star Saturday Night. I have since learned, however, that LaFave makes frequent trips to North Texas for live shows, one of which he performed Thursday night at a gorgeous little venue next to the pool at the Belmont Hotel in Oak Cliff. (Please click below to read on!)

Photo: Jimmy LaFave and John Inmon during a past show at Bend Studio in Dallas

FRISCO -- For most of the nearly five hours I spent at Kenny Chesney's Sun Carnival Tour on Saturday night, I was teetering (and shivering) between two thoughts: "Gosh, these performers sure have gumption and 'show-must-go-on' commitment, to keep performing when it's raining buckets and there's lightning flashing, and oh, gee, there's all that electrical equipment onstage," and "Are the people who organized this thing out of their minds? Call it quits and get us out of here before the tornado hits or a transformer blows!"

That said, Lady Antebellum, Miranda Lambert and Kenny Chesney did put on a heck of a show before, just 45 minutes into his headlining set, Chesney finally did what should have been done before the concert started: "I think it'd be best for everyone if we all got the hell out of here," he said before the stage went dark.

Look for a full review of the truncated show -- what with Sugarland's last-minute cancellation and Chesney's abbreviated set, Lindale native Lambert actually got the most stage time -- at Guidelive.com on Sunday afternoon, and in the print edition on Monday.

There is a moment in the best concerts when performer and audience connect, and the music resonates so powerfully that the rest of the evening is defined by it. Such a moment occurred during her 11th song Monday night, when Bonnie Raitt sang John Prine's "Angel from Montgomery."
The show marked the 8th annual benefit for Special Care & Career Services, and Raitt was the perfect choice.
Whether the emotion in the song came from Raitt's sadness over a family member who's ill, or the crowd at Meyerson Symphony Center feeling a collective anxiety over a terrifying economy, the lyrics "to believe in this living is just a hard way to go" seemed to tug at everyone's heartstrings.
"Angel from Montgomery" drew a rousing ovation, but there were plenty of high points generated by a 59-year-old performer who is truly a force of nature. With her flaming red hair now flecked with gray, Raitt can move from blues to reggae to pop as well as anyone.
To hear her sing the knockout ballad "I Can't Make You Love Me" -- which benefited enormously from the deft jazz piano of Ricky Peterson -- is all the proof anyone would need that Bonnie Raitt is truly her father's daughter. The late John Raitt was a Broadway star whose pedigree included Oklahoma! and Carousel.
They sang together on his 1995 album, Broadway Legend, but early on in her West Coast girlhood, Raitt picked up a guitar and made herself a master of the blues. She did terrific covers Monday night of John Hiatt's "Thing Called Love" and James Taylor's "Rainy Day Man." And though she wore jeans while many in the crowd wore business suits and evening gowns, performer and audience were one, held together by the blues.

Photo: Bonnie Raitt in concert at the Meyerson on Monday night

The first time I saw Bonnie Raitt, she was opening for Jackson Browne. It was 1974, at McFarlin Auditorium on the campus of my alma mater, Southern Methodist University. He was in the midst of his Late for the Sky tour, and she was the only woman, surrounded by 13 guys from two bands on the same tour bus, en route to 50 American cities. I also saw her live in San Diego in 1987, when she appeared as the surprise guest for a concert featuring Jackson and David Lindley. As great as they are -- as much as I love their music -- Bonnie more or less blew everybody off the stage that night. I soon learned there was a reason for that: She was feeling fantastic, having become clean and sober and fit. And in two years, she would release Nick of Time, her breakout album, and the first of a string of Platinum recordings. I next saw her live in Santa Cruz, Calif., on a bitterly cold night in December 1998, and again, her ability to seize the stage left me amazed. Well, now, it's your turn to see Bonnie Raitt, simply by going to Meyerson Symphony Center on Monday night. (Please click below to read on!)

Photo: The great Bonnie Raitt

It's a sad moment for the devotees of acoustic music. Lynn Adler and Lindy Hearne, co-founders of Crossroads Coffeehouse & Music Co., in the Piney Woods town of Winnsboro in East Texas, announced Friday that they will close the venue in mid-May. Crossroads served as a beacon of terrific music for more than three years in Winnsboro, about 100 miles east of Dallas. Adler and Hearne brought to its backporch-like stage such names as Jimmy LaFave, Eliza Gilkyson, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Billy Joe Shaver, Ruthie Foster, Kinky Friedman and Steven Fromholz. The venue's final show will be Saturday, May 16, with a concert by John Gorka. Adler and Hearne recently released their own album, To the Heart, and Adler says it was less the economy and more the desire to pursue their own music that led to the closing. "It was a very organic feeling," she said of the decision to close the venue, which operated in a turn-of-the-century hardware store on Winnsboro's Main Street. "It was like a season. It was our season to do that, in terms of our own personal story."

Photo: The great Radoslav Lorkovic plays the accordion during a Crossroads concert by Jimmy LaFave

GRAND PRAIRIE -- Standing before a near-capacity crowd at Nokia Theatre on Wednesday night, Jackson Browne confessed to feeling a wee bit self-conscious any time he plays Texas.
"It's such a ripping, guitar-burning state," he said, no doubt referring to such native Dallas pickers as the late Stevie Ray Vaughan.
But there was no reason for apology. Backed by his incredibly gifted band, Mr. Browne blitzed through 21 songs that had the crowd on its feet for much of the night. And he pulled it off while trying to get over a cold.
He showcased songs from his new album, Time the Conqueror, whose late September release came just before Mr. Browne's 60th birthday. It's a musically charged, infectiously energetic record whose offerings range from the political ("The Drums of War") to the sweetly personal ("Just Say Yeah," which Mr. Browne dedicated to his longtime girlfriend). (Please click below to read more!)

Photo: Jackson Browne

So, I drove to Winnsboro on Saturday night and heard yet another cool concert at Crossroads Coffeehouse & Music Co. Jimmy LaFave was the headliner; the warm-up act, who also lives in Austin, was BettySoo. She has played Dallas before (Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse back in February), but if she plays anywhere nearby in the coming months, you should get in the car and go. She has an angelic voice, plays a mean guitar and has a gifted storyteller's touch in crafting a song. "Never the Pretty Girl" was among my favorites, but they were all good. She got a well-deserved standing-O encore, which, as you know, is rare for a warm-up act. Lindy Hearne and Lynn Adler, who have a great thing going at Crossroads, promise to bring BettySoo back as a headliner. She's scheduled to play Longview in January, but by going here, you can check out her full schedule.

Photo: Betty Soo on one of her album covers

It was 7 o'clock on a Thursday night, but that didn't stop a near-capacity crowd from filling McDavid Studio in downtown Fort Worth. These were just the kind of folks who normally would have hunkered down at home to watch the vice-presidential debate. (Granted, more than a few were catching it later on Tivo.) But they had come to hear John Gorka, who has a loyal following indeed. And why not? Few acoustic musicians -- few songwriters, period -- are as gifted as this guy. Whether it was anti-war songs ("Let Them In" and "Writing in the Margins") or hearbreak ballads ("I Saw a Stranger With Your Hair" and "Love Is Our Cross to Bear"), John Gorka delivered as he always does. But one of the best things about hearing this bearded Minnesotan (who was born in New Jersey and educated in Pennsylvania) is his humor, whether it's delivered on stage in numerous witty asides or in lyrics. Take "People My Age," for instance: "People my age," he sang, "have started looking gross." Way too many laughs of recognition for that one.
(McDavid Studio, by the way, has emerged as one very cool venue.)
Photo: John Gorka

For lovers of acoustic music, this promises to be quite a week in Fort Worth. It all gets started Wednesday night, when a trio of virtuoso guitarists (Tommy Emmanuel, Monte Montgomery and Rhett Butler) team up for a show at Bass Performance Hall at 7:30. It carries with it a special $10 ticket offer for students and faculty. But like a fine wine, the week only gets better with age. The Sarah Palin-Joe Biden debate notwithstanding, John Gorka comes to McDavid Studio (across the street from Bass Hall) for one of his one-of-a-kind shows at 7 p.m. Thursday. And then, one of my personal favorites, the great Gretchen Peters, finishes off the week with a show in McDavid Studio at 8 p.m. Friday. Gretchen will be backed up, as usual, by one of the world's greatest piano players, Barry Walsh. For more information, call 817-212-4280 or visit www.basshall.com.

Photo: Gretchen Peters

All you'll ever need to pretend you went to this year's Austin City Limits music fest yourself:

Slideshow: Some ACL performers doing their thing
• 9/30/08: Austin City Limits bucks traditions, but plays it smooth
• 9/29/08: Austin City Limits performer Nicole Atkins serious about career
• 9/28/08: Funk-rock band Black Joe Lewis gettin' buzz at ACL
• 9/27/08: The menu at Austin City Limits Music Festival is loaded
• 9/26/08: Dallas area acts hitting Austin City Limits Music Festival
• Live blogging: Catch up on ACL here
• AP: Texas charity keeps Austin and its musicians healthy

And now, the sad. Our resident rock guru and all-around cool guy Mike Daniel will be leaving us soon. ACL was his last major gig for The News (well, as a full-time staffer, that is. We'll be pouncing on him for freelance in the future, for sure). He's been a big player in the music section for a long, long time and he'll be missed. Happy adventures, big guy!

(Photo: Hiker Mike on Ben Nevis in Scotland)

1). At no recent ACL has the balance of the day's 60,000 festival-goers been as skewed to one side of Zilker Park as on Sunday. And Saturday, for that matter, but wait a second for that. On Sunday, 80 percent of the remaining crowd clogged the east side of the park since Foo Fighters has the final performance slot all to themselves on the AT&T Stage ... and three hours earlier, Blues Traveler (of all bands, why that one?) made the Dell Stage seem like the place to be despite horrible sound while Okkervil River put on a much more satisfying set on the park's west side on the AT&T Blue Room Stage. At one point during MGMT's performance on that same stage on Saturday, the throng was so solid all the way back to the knoll to the west of Rock Island that pedestrian flow completely stopped. Why MGMT? Who knows? Its set was about as compelling as Blues Traveler's ...

1). Gnarls Barkley. For the last performance of a four-month tour, Cee-Lo, Danger Mouse and their tux-with-silver-bowtie-sporting backing band left way too much in the dressing room. The duo's live shows are notoriously unpredictable, both in terms of quality and spontaniety (what dress will Cee-Lo perform in tonight?), and it was highly disappointing that it decided to mail things in rather than let things run amok. To be fair, Cee-Lo did sound like his voice was faltering in upper registers because of wear. But man, make up for it by doing something "Crazy", huh?

2). Neko Case. ACL just wasn't where the New Pornographer's country-folk material was going to shine, and as such, Ms. Case's playing ACL a year and a half after releasing a live album titled Live From Austin, TX was unfortunate. She sang and gestured with little enthusiasm, and her subtle and often simple and short compositions are too compact and nuanced to translate on a big stage such as the AMD Stage. A waste of time very similar to Alison Krauss and Robert Plant's turn on the same stage on Saturday, which possessed nowhere near the power and poetry that it did in an enclosed and dedicated headlinging appearance.

Sunday was the Austin City Limits Music Festival's rockin' day; many of the acts scheduled to perform fell into the realm of modern rock, blues rock and jam rock. As such, it also ended up being the festival's lightest attendance day; tickets didn't sell out until well into the afternoon, and frankly, the performances were lackluster for much of that time. Not a great way to end things. Highlights were few, but they were there:

1) the Raconteurs. Jack White's shaved his facial hair, but Brendan Benson's grown a moustache. Even so, they both leapt onto the AMD Stage with matching straw fedoras on. Once they were shed, the band tore through 75 minutes of material with the gusto of a teen-age punk band despite Mr. White's admission that not only was he feeling under the weather, but that he's got a slipped disk in his upper back. (OUCH). The performance had several times more energy and activity as its show at Dallas' House of Blues in early April, mere days after its second album, Consolers of the Lonely, was released. It was obvious that the band was much, much more comfortable with the new material.

1). Bizarre sight of the day: seeing a member of the grounds crew using a wet-dry vacuum to suck up standing water on the grass behind Rock Island. See: you can vacuum a lawn!

2). The Rock and Recycle volunteer cleanup crew at ACL is doing yeoman's work ... but the group's actually not doing much of the work itself. They're carrying around signs that state "ask me about a free T-shirt"; when you ask, you learn that to earn the shirt you must collect a large trash bag full of recyclable bottles and cans. The bit is working amazingly well; you can't walk for a minute without seeing a festival-goer lugging around a towering blue plastic sack while scouring the park for disposables. And until dark (when the scouring becomes impossible), Zilker Park is unbelievably free of discarded trash.

More later ... got to prepare for my breakfast date with Nicole Atkins. ;)

1). Erykah Badu. Sorry to say it, but Dallas' queen of neo-soul talked too much. After "Love of My Life," she threw down this bizarre scat solo using two curse words as anchors, then she spent three or four minutes rambing on about why the heck she named her new album New Amerykah Part One (4th World War). Something about occupation ... anyway, by that time she'd created a noticeable exodus away from the AT&T Stage. She did finish stronger with decent versions of "Tyrone" and "Honey," but she was as loose as her hair (worn down) and her garb (a smiley-face T-shirt) at ACL, and that was too loose.

2). MGMT. Though a huge crowd gathered for its set on the AT&T Blue Room Stage (read about just how big in the next post) and MGMT's live show has improved in power and tightness since South by Southwest in March, the Brooklyn electro-rock duo's music still lacks hooks, character and distinction. Neither Ben Goldwasser and Andrew VanWyngarden know how to work a crowd, either. Horrible, and darn near unlistenable. Maybe the crowd was so big because they were all taking a break to drink.

Saturday at the Austin City Limits Music Festival was about the groove. Well, about half the time, anyway: it seemed like half the acts were soul- and R&B-derived, and the other half were either quiet indie songwriters or country-fried rockers. Quite a contrast, and it created some conflicts. But good performances were many. The top ones:

1). Fleet Foxes. The Seattle outfit's music can be rightly dubbed ambient folk: creamy harmonies and basic instrumentation that interweaves like an aural magic dragon to create a sunny, swirling cloud of rough-hewn song. Somehow -- the early performance time of 12:30 p.m. on the AMD Stage likely had a lot to do with this -- the music coagulated into a pixie-dusted wall of delight, as if it were a soundtrack to some Legend-like fantasy movie set in rural Kentucky. It was beautiful in an overall-sporting, gap-toothed way. To top it off, the band's members were extremely loose and spontaneous with their on-stage banter. "I'm sleepy," was drummer J. Tillman's intro. "Isn't is reassuring that banks can't manage money, just like regular people?" mused keyboardist Casey Westcott. Funny stuff.

1) This year's Official Program. It's 128 pages, color-coded and exceedingly informative. The master stroke? It's pocket sized for 2008, measuring roughly 4 by 5 inches. And it's free.

2). Labor Day may have passed by a few weeks ago, but musicians are still wearing white as the color of choice. David Byrne's entire band had it on; Pharrell of N.E.R.D. paired it with red jeans and a ball cap; English blue-eyed soul dude Jamie Lidell (think Adam Levine with Buddy Holly's glasses on, and you've got him nailed) sported a white choral robe (and his bassist rocked a white 1970s-era zip-up jump suit); half of Hot Chip had all manner of white garb around. Even Gogol Bordello's bassist, Thomas Gobena, had a white beanie cap with faux dreads on to match his white sunglasses. Oh, and then there's Eugene Hutz, who's just pale by nature.

3). Quote of the day: "I don't care if you're a [expletive] Republican or a [expletive] Democrat. Just vote!" -- Pharrell of N.E.R.D. Related ironic observation: how few patrons were in the Rock Island Hideaway open wine lounge watching last night's presidential debate on the lounge's big screens. Well, people were at ACL to see music, after all ...

1) Paula Nelson. She's a thirtysomething Austinite who's trying to make a name for herself as a blues-rock singer. Only she never will make a name for herself because her dad, one Willie Nelson, has already done it for her. She's got his nasal, treble-heavy voice and his static stage presence -- almost to the point of disinterest. Neither works in blues rock, especially when the music has all the fire of a stomped-out cigarette butt. Good for a celebrity party but little else.

2). Ryan Bingham. Not because he's no good -- his easygoing and svelte alt-country is gaining quality by the month -- but because even in front of the BMI Stage, his relatively stately and quiet music was utterly ruined by N.E.R.D.'s earth-moving bass tones and David Byrne's charmingly weird but effective (and loud) take on world pop. (M. Ward had the same problem on the WaMu Stage until he went full electric after his set's first few songs).

3). Slightly Stoopid. File this one under "We didn't see it because there's no point" because we've seen it before, and there's no point seeing it again. It's jock ska that frat punks get drunk to, and nothing more. Monkey see name, monkey be name, ya know?

A'ight. Since it's been established that my smartphone now officially belongs in a museum, here's the plan: I'll post three blogs a night after each day at Austin City Limits: The good, the bad, and the lovely -- 'lovely' as in notable 'gotta love it!'-style random notes. Each blog'll have three acts or items mentioned.

So here's Day 1, the good:

1) N.E.R.D. The set to see of Day 1. If you missed it, you suck. How could you miss it; the bass was so deep it must've traveled through the earth's crust like an earthquake; the energy was so explosive it generated its own magnetic field to attract the uninitiated. "You Know What" was as taut as a drive belt on a phat-funk Porsche, and singer Pharrell wasn't a "Rock Star Poser" after that joint rumbled and a breakdancer humbled. Pharrell had 30 or 40 crowd members jumping and grinding on stage during the espionage-licked groove of "Lapdance." N.E.R.D. had everyone feeling better than James Bond; shaken and stirred.

You nailed it, Christy. My smartphone's simply not working past 3 p.m. or so at ACL, and I suspect this is why (beware: I'm about to get a little technical, music lovers)

I have an older smartphone that uses GPRS for its data transfer protocol. That's old technology; newer smartphones are using what's called "G3" protocol that's about 10 times faster (I think) than GPRS. Also, more phones with data-transfer capability -- not to mention smartphones by themselves -- are in use than ever now. And when many, many people congregate in one place with all those phones -- like 60,000 at Zilker Park for a day of ACL -- network tieups happen.

Only in my case, the tieups shut me out since I have slow technology. Last year at ACL, I had occasional connectivity problems but was able to post blogs after another try or two. This year, I can't even use the data capability because my phone can't even verify itself on its network.

So until I upgrade, I'm down and out with the live blogging and Twittering. Phooey.

Mike called and said he's having phone trouble, which is keeping him from live-blogging and twittering at the moment. He's working on it. At worst, he'll post and twitter a flurry of stuff tonight back at his room, so stay tuned. Meanwhile check out ...

• Dallas area acts hitting Austin City Limits Music Festival

And check here through the weekend for his ACL-act reviews.

• Follow Mike on Twitter now

In about an hour I'll be heading into Zilker Metropolitan Park for Day 1 of 2008's Austin City Limits Music Festival. And oh, what joy it shall bring. I'm not talking about the music. The lineup's actually weaker than previous years, in my opinion, especially in the realm of indie rock.

I'm talking weather: predicted highs in the high 80s, sunny and nary a chance of rain all three days of the fest. That ACL's being held two weeks later than usual is juuuust fine with me and many others in that regard.

But know this: the main reason ACL is in late September has little to do with the onset of fall. It has to do with the University of Texas Longhorns. Organizers schedule it during a week when the massively popular football team isn't in town. But Hurricane Ike messed that strategy up, since a game with the University of Arkansas two weeks ago had to be reschuedled to tomorrow. Here. In Austin.

Oh, tomorrow's gonna be no fun for the natives. (and by the way: single-day ACL tickets for Saturday are already sold out, so you horn flashers don't need to bother about doubling up your fun).

Austin City Limits is this Friday through Sunday, and Big Mike will be down there covering it. In addition to some cool features and live-blogging, he's trying something new. Throughout the day, each day, he'll be Twittering his observations, information and thoughts on the mass of humanity and music going on at the state capital's Zilker Park (kind of like how pop culture critic Tom Maurstad did during the Toronto Film Festival recently). The Twitter action will take place here.

Don't have a Twitter account yet? Sign up and add guidelivemusic to your "follow" list.

Also online
Story: ACL latest to offer VIP comforts

Back in 2007, I gave ex-Soundgarden/Audioslave singer Chris Cornell's second solo CD, Carry On, a reasonably positive review (generally, reviews were mixed on the album). Though it lacked any strong singles beyond "You Know My Name" (the theme from the James Bond movie Casino Royale), I called it a watershed work because of its subtle and playful reimagining of 1970s and 80s pop rock and soul.

Somehow, Mr. Cornell saw the review and thought well enough of it to request an informal meeting Saturday at the Projekt Revolution tour.

What was supposed to be a hey-thanks, great-to-meet-you, two-minutes-tops rendezvous backstage turned into a 13-minute discussion about art, music as escapism, technology, and the effect of place and experience on expression.

I thought maybe this wasn't Ashes Divide. It's too punky, too guttural, too, well, tribal.

Sure enough, the band performing is experimental techno-punk percussionists Street Drum Corps, which was originally supposed to open the Revolution Stage on this tour. Then, it got moved up to close that side stage just before the tour started a few weeks ago.

And now, it's breaking in the Main Stage. Pretty darned commendably and forcefully, I might add ... but I cant help but think "Punk Stomp" when I see these guys. Meh ...

Atreyu finished on the parking lot-simmered Revolution Stage at 5:05 p.m. Ten minutes later, a rush of fans stormed the lawn on its south side.

Whether they were allowed to do so is unknown. But it's not exactly a controlled way to begin letting patrons take their places, even on the general-admission lawn.

Two minutes later, the queue for the reserved seats started moving S-L-O-W-L-Y, since tix had to be checked, one by one. One line, two or thee ticket ushers, at least a couple of thousand people.

Seven or eight minutes later, Ashes Divide Street Drum Corps (!) starts its set more than 20 minutes EARLY.

Kind of nuts, people. Kind of nuts ... well, at least the line's orderly. Lots of frowns around, though.

OK, I have to give Atreyu proper props. Though Alex Varkatzas is struggling with range and projection, both he and his bandmates' energy is highly commendable

Of the bands that have emerged out of Southern California's hard-core and screamo scene, Atreyu is, in my estimation, the most charismatic and talented. Avenged Sevenfold may have more chops, style and swagger, but Atreyu majorly trumps it in honesty, effort and positivity. No, it may not last quite as long as A7X, but it's still worthy of memory.

Keep that copy of Lead Sails Paper Anchor for a few years, kids. In, say, 2013, listen to it before A7X's recent self-titled release. Betcha think the former's better. Because it is.

I arrived at the Dallas stop of Linkin Park's Projekt Revolution Tour about 45 minutes ago to find some telling things.

First off, attendance is paltry for the afternoon portion, which started at 1 p.m. For a concert of this size, four grand (that's my estimate) is troubling - and maybe half that are taking in California metal band Atreyu's poor set. Alex Varkatzas appears to have lost most of his voice; Lucky for him, he's being good natured about it on stage -- and that this is the tour's second-to-last stop.

The other two grand are waiting for the ampitheater to open. That's right: it's been closed for show prep for the main stage the entire 95-degree-and-humid-as-heck afternoon. Not cool. Literally.

Oh, and to those folks who were complaining about the $4.50 price of bottled water at Ozzfest a couple of weeks ago? It's a relative bargain here: just $4 (and that's Superpages.com Center's standard price)!

Just now, Jesus Christ Pose(d). Wow.

Former Soundgarden and Audioslave singer Chris Cornell blew the roof off of Superpages.com Center with a set that was far and waaay away better than any of his recent turns in Dallas.

But be warned: his upcoming new CD, Scream, is not what most will expect from him. (Hint: it was co-written and produced by none other than hip hop superproducer Timbaland).

But even the two new synth-assisted (!!!) cuts that Mr. Cornell performed tonight - "Watch Out" and "Scream" - had a fire about them that's been missing from his shows for years. Plus, the duet he did on "Hunger Strike" with Linkin Park's Chester Bennington was darned cool. Interesting note: Mr. Bennington handled Mr. Cornell's screams on the chorus of the Temple of the Dog track, while Mr. Cornell sang the lower registers originally done by Eddie Vedder.

Mr. Cornell looked like he's been reborn at age 44. More about that later, so stay tuned ...

Attendance here has now become respectable; I'd say that about 11 to 12,000 are present. That's mean that about seven grand or so were either smart or otherwise occupied and stayed away until the storms that are in the area cooled things off a bit. No rain here yet, but it's been threatening.

You can always tell how diverse a crowd is by the variety of band shirts that are being worn - not for the acts playing the actual concert, but for others. The variety here - from Snoop Dogg to Dropkick Murphys and Dimmu Borgir to Michael Jackson - is naturally telling.

I've never warmed to this act much. It's too faux-British, too contrived, too, well ... I'll put it this way: it's retro-pop just feels overblown.

However, I have to say that live, the band appears more chummy and organic. It looks like it's having fun, and the delivery of its Oasis-by-way-of-Duran Duran power pop is calming. Boy, these guys spout off one singalong chorus after another singalong chorus ... and then another ... and another ....

What puzzles me is why it's on this tour. This is a mainstream rock tour, not a hipster-hyped next-big-thing blowout. Then again, the Bravery HAVE had a top 10 Modern Rock hit. Is the paradigm changing? Yes, but it's not ruled by Brittania. Yet (I know that I'll rue that day).

It's pretty easy to describe this band's music: a more mature and atmospheric 30 Seconds to Mars.

And since that Jared Leto-led act's gonna be a while releasing a follow-up to A Beautiful Lie (y'all've heard about Virgin's asenine $30 million lawsuit against the band for failure to deliver a new record on time, I hope), it's perfectly acceptable to migrate your 30STM fan-dom to this act.

Granted, Billy Howerdel doesn't have Mr. Leto's celebrity rep, nor his looks, nor his charisma. But the reserved and introspective Mr. Howerdel wasn't exactly a natural match to be Tool's guitar tech, much less the musical brains behind A Perfect Circle, either.

That said, there's a natural relationship between APC and Ashes musically. This is more obvious and less presumptious stuff ... and it's being performed with precision and nobility.

Members of the Tejano music group Carlos y los Cachorros gathered around a waterfall in the lobby of the Hyatt Regency this afternoon wearing black cowboy hats, boots, and green paisley button-down shirts. They stood out among the passerby in the hotel, so I felt compelled to go up to them and ask about their outfits.

"We like to dress in the traditional Tejano wear," said group member Matthew Luna. "It appeals to the older crowd more." The group's philosophy, he noted, is to "dress to impress," particularly when performing at weddings or other formal events.

Carlos y los Cachorros, which is in its fifth consecutive week of touring, arrived in Dallas late Friday night. The group is scheduled to perform three sets tonight at the Dallas Convention Center starting at around 9 p.m. With their matching, traditional garb, they shouldn't be hard to miss.

I took some time this morning to talk with Tejano saxophonist and vocalist Joe Posada, who was giving a class on the history of the saxophone. Posada sat one-on-one with the few people in attendance and enlightened them with information about the history of the saxophone and its significance in the Tejano music tradition. The saxophone, Posada says, puts a stamp on his music and makes it identifiable to Tejano music fans. He pointed to Tejano musicians Beto Villa, Isidro Lopez, and Alfonso Ramos as his inspirations.

When I asked the four-time Tejano Academy Award winner what he thought about the idea that Tejano music is losing its appeal, he said: "What's struggling is not the music. It's the radio station airplay. We just have to go back to the way it was." Paying continuous tributes to the late Selena, he said, was once important. He noted that the focus nowadays, though, should be on the performers who are out in the industry, trying to make a living and keep Tejano music alive.

You can watch Posada in action tonight starting at 8 p.m. at the Dallas Convention Center.

Tonight's performances are all about connecting with the audience. Most of the performers have bent down to the crowd's level. They've shaken their hands and given them fist pumps. Their body language and their energy seem to say, "This one's for you."

The performers are noticeably bringing people together. I'm amazed by how many couples there are here! Lots of people are holding hands, resting their heads on each other's shoulders and embracing each other while dancing.

The crowd seems to be picking up as the night progresses. For those still waiting in line to register for the event, Tejano Music Festival tote bags are being handed out. Inside the bags are "Tejano por Vida" flyers with information about tomorrow's line-up of events.

The Dallas Convention Center tonight is filled withTejano music fans who are hitting the dance floor in droves. Behind the performers, a screen flashes images that look like a lava lamp illuminating the stage. While some dance, others are gathered around the stage taking photos of the performers. For the wallflowers of the night, there are plenty of tables and seats, only about a quarter of which are filled.

More than one performer has called the convention a "beautiful event," a reminder of a genre of music that isn't dead, but that's struggling. But if only for tonight, it's a genre that seems alive and well.

If dancing makes these Tejano music fans work up an appetite, a chimichanga or two should help satisfy their hunger. Taco, chimichanga, nacho stands and more line the back of the convention hall, though at the moment not too many people seem to be looking for food. They're too busy dancing and enjoying the live music. The night, after all, is still young.

Sevendust. Again: same ol' same ol'. Singer Lajon Witherspoon looked a tad more spent and beaten down than usual (and that's saying something: he's stout as singers go). And the music? Do I HAVE to repeat myself?

Hellyeah's throwing out its usual too-much-talk-and-not-enough-rock set. Chad Gray's voice is in top shape' though, and the band is thick (It's version of "Nausea" right now is phenomenal). As trite as tributes to Dimebag Darrell are these days, the one about to happen should be a hellacious treat ... especially since folks are much, much more tipsy in general than they were just a couple of hours ago ...

...OK Mr. Gray is screaming too much now. Restraint, man, restraint!

Well, considering what Korn's Jonathan Davis has dealt with the past few years - near death, two despondent bandmates, a flat-out poor last Korn CD that flopped - it's no wonder he wants to do a bit of his own thing.

But you know, dressing in dapper all-black, sitting on a red crushed-velvet-upholstered throne and hiring some eclectic musicians (including an upright bassist, a guy that plays a double-necked electric violin, and Booker T. Washington grad Zac Baird on keyboards) is not enhancing Mr. Davis' stature. Especially when almost all of the songs are dialed-down Korn rehashes.

Mr. Davis' voice does sound OK, and he's quite active on stage in spurts (i.e. when his backside's off that throne). But this is ... uh ... eclectic. That's the best I can come up with now. And Mr. Davis would probably consider that light praise. Maybe it is ... I've gotta sleep on this ...

"Kick the P.A." indeed.

Yes, the moving of the side stages from the concrete east parking lot to the adjacent undeveloped ground was good. The condition of it, though, is not.

Giant cracks up to a foot deep, caused by the unrelenting sun combined with relatively little summer rain, zigzag across the area. They're worst where the midway of Ozzfest is set up, between the stadium and the side stages and slightly to the south

I've seen nothing serious there yet, but I can just imagine some inebriated yahoo messing up an ankle or a knee BAD after stepping in one of those. Eeek. I shiver just thinking about that.

Speaking of slightly south: the breeze is coming from that direction, making the best spots to hear the side stage bands slightly north of front. Why? The sound's moving downwind!

I lied: I had to post one more item.

So Ozzy went 35 minutes late. But he made up for it with a neat little fireworks show afterward. Really! They set off a bunch of 'em behind the north side of the stadium.

So festive. Yay. Now bring out the freakin' Mighty Met already!

That's always been said of the ex-Sepultura front man. You know: the kind who always marches to his own drum beat (and that's an apt metaphor, considering how Sepultura revolutionized the rhythms of metal almost 20 years ago).

But here, he's proving himself truly nutty. He's playing on the Main Stage with Cavalera Conspiracy in full freakin' fatigues; only during the last vitriolic, loud-as-heck song did he mercifully shun his combat-weight coat.

At least the set's insane, and he's representing his country better here than most Brazilians are likely to at the Beijing Olympics: he's playing a guitar with the Brazilian flag emblazoned on the body, and an amp stack's shrouded in another flag. Nice!

Ozzy's blown the template. Things stayed rigidly on schedule until his set, which is now on its encore - "Mama, I'm Coming Home," complete with a Gibson double-neck guitar over Zakk Wylde's beefy shoulders - but the set's run almost 30 minutes long at this point.

That means the Mighty Met won't go on until at least 10:10 ... and its allotted 90 minutes will run close to midnight. So ... this'll be my last post of the evening, since I've got to write the formal review for the print product tomorrow.

Rock on ... Ozzfest 2008 will, if today is an indication. It's been quite a high-quality ride ...

... Oh boy. A second encore song: "Paranoid." Please tell me that Metallica hasn't gone prissy on this crowd ...

... (actually, no: Ozzy's P.R. rep told me that Ozzy, well, felt a need to play longer than Metallica would. Read into that what you will!)

Call it being afraid of the deep end, call it knowing how well you can swim - but for what Drowning Pool is, it's not bad. Good power, good conviction, good energy and great charisma are all evident, even with the Texas Stage's sound cutting out at times and the now-respectable breeze causing the sound to waft like a column of smoke.

5,000 attendees are attentively taking the band's set in: that's far beyond the 500 or so that showed up at the Palladium in December to see the act. Looks like its niche - cathartic pro-military cheerleading - is paying off.

Well, the MC on the side stages made a fool of himself, didn't he?

The KDGE-FM DJ - I forget his name, and frankly I don't really give a hoo-ha, especially since he's got an East Coast accent - spent two minutes introducing who Sharon Osbourne calls "The official mayor of Ozzfest" - Dez Fafara of DevilDriver - and he was supposed to be setting up Dallas' own Drowning Pool. Or: the official metal band of the U.S Armed Forces (not really, but it may as well be).

I caught a bit of Massachusetts metalcore act Shadows Fall on the Main Stage earlier. Brian Fair's dreads are a long as ever. But the band's set was the same ol' same ol'. Ditto for metal cello trio Apocalyptica, which doesn't translate nearly as well on a huge fest stage as it did at House of Blues a few weeks ago. Maybe that's why the Mighty Met didn't join 'em onstage? Or maybe not ... Metallica's still above making cameos in tribute acts, after all, hehe ...

Oh, stop! Not that grass ...

Lawn grass. On a summer day, it's your friend. And Ozzfest realizes that.

Unlike Edgefest and most other concert events held at Pizza Hut Park, the stadium's playing field isn't covered by that springy, seam-riddled white plastic covering here. The field is blissfully nude, thus making it fairly cool to sit on as well as infinitely more comfortable.

In addition, both side stages are set up on dirt instead of on pavement. Smart move, Ozzfest ... as are the 50-foot-long mister tents, which makes Warped Tour's single square mist shelter look like a toddler's wading pool.

I just finished a short conversation with Austin fantasy metal band the Sword, which is headlining the Texas Stage in about two hours.

But that's not the coolest thing. The band opened for Metallica for a month in Europe until a few days ago. You can predict the band's opinion of the experience.

"It was awesome," said singer-guitarist J.D. Cronise. "People have wondered to us if there was any negative backlash or stuff like that in terms of liking us. Thing is, people over there have been waiting to hear Metallica play for, like, 10 years, so pretty much whatever Metallica offered up was going to be fine with them."

The band's latest, "Gods of the Earth," hasn't been as well received as its monolithic 2005 debut, "Age of Winters." But the steady climb up continues for the Sword's superb brand of so-called "heritage metal," which basically sounds like equal doses of Black Sabbath, Blue Cheer, Iron Maiden and any number of Southern rock stalwarts.

Intriguing observation: drummer Trevitt Wingo typically does most of the band's press, but he's plainly the most skeptical and grumpiest member compared to the other three. Even so, he's cool - just wary of being pigeonholed by writer schlubs like me. No worries, mate!

Ozzy is energized. For him, WAY energized. His voice is as well-preserved as it's been in years of Ozzfests, he looks trim and healthy, he's pushing his vocals far enough to be poignant, and he's clearly happy to be at his only Ozzfest appearance this year.

"Bark at the Moon" cut ears to shreds, and not just because his now-trusted guitarist sidekick, Zakk Wylde (who, it must be noted, decided not to invoke a live declaration of his own via Black Label Society at this year's version) wailed during it. The whole band is dialed in, except the bass drum's, which is too boomy as is typical at rock-festival mixes.

During "Suicide Solution," Ozzy sprayed the crowd nearest to him with what looked like firefighting foam. It wasn't water - the stuff was as white as soap suds - and he plainly loved doing the dousing. He saved the agua for the end of the next number, "Mr. Crowley:" he slung bucketfuls onto his front-stage minions then, asif rinsing off the product of his mischief.

Ozzy's always been precocious and kid-like; he just hasn't had the energy to continually act that way consistently in recent years. He's evidently saved some of the fuel in his tank for tonight.

In This Moment opened the Main Stage with one of Ozzfest 2008's many gimmicks: the only female lead singer among the 22 bands here.

Maria Brink looked like she was more closely related to Katy Perry than, say, Lita Ford. She was dressed all in white, and her outfit was capped off with a knee-high socks and a poofy skirt that Amy Lee would be jealous of if it were black or made of lace.

Thing is, the band didn't sound bad at all. The music has hooks, and Ms. Brink and the rest of the act appeared to have genuine rapport.

Look for its new CD, The Dream, in stores in late September. Interesting fact: In This Moment is one of the few acts at Ozzfest with new CDs on the horizon. The only other act with one upcoming for sure? Metallica.

... and actually, I've been here for almost an hour. I've spent that time solving some logistical issues with covering the event (seems security here is much tighter than at the typical Texas music festival). As a result, I missed a couple of bands ... but it's likely that you've never heard of them, anyway.

So: I bet you're wondering how hot it is. It is hot ... but it's not like last weekend's 107-degree temps. It's a tad more humid, but not as brutal as New Orleans post-sludge band Soilent Green's buzzy stop-start set on the Jagermeister-sponsored 2nd Stage.

If anyone should have a right to complain about the heat, it's Soilent singer Ben Falgoust. He sang for the stage's opening act, Goat*hore, just two hours ago. Kudos to the barbed wire-throated Mr. Falgoust for keeping his shirt on for this set ... even though as a NOLA native, he's used to this kind of weather-related brutality. More than most know.

Sweet! Serj Tankian's backing band (like Jonathan Davis', I can't state its name on a blog accessible to tender eyes) are all wearing top hats. The System of a Down front man's been fond of them since he launched his solo foray last year: looks like the team's bought into the concept ...

Though by the second song, "Empty Walls," all but Serj had tossed them aside. The drummer's kept on his strap-on neon green butterfly wings, though, hehe.

The set's tight, dark and throaty: easily the most measured of the performances I've seen today. Unfortunately, Serj's material doesn't have the pop touch of SoaD's stuff. It thinks more than rocks, and not many are digging it in the crowd. Serj and 10 Years singer Jesse Hacek need to take the same class in that regard ...

... though he had one genius idea: whoever handed out the small promotional mini-posters that touted Serj's new CD before his set. A bunch of people in the west-facing rows are using those as sunshades during his performance, thus giving Serj some free advertising. Brilliant!

High clouds have rolled onto the scene in earnest now, and they've helped with the sun exposure. Dimebag's still getting his, though.

Not live: that's over and only lasted four songs. Turns out the acoustic ditty was a cover: "Wish You Were Here." I missed the last number, but supposedly the figures in my last post were all involved ...

... but pictures and video clips of Dimebag still populate the big screens. OK: time to put those away, just like it's time to put the tributes away and let the great fuzzy shredder rest, you know?

As Hellyeah rolls through a hitch-filled version of "You Wouldn't Know," about 40 dignitaries have gathered stage left. The gaggle is buzzing about as much as the band performing is, actually. Some pretty huge names in metaldom are in that group, you know ...

And so, about 10 minutes later, the tribute begins. Actually, it started early this morning at Strokers Dallas on Harry Hines, where a processiion of motorcycles rode to Frisco in Dimebag's honor to kick off Ozzfest. A party at the Palladium Ballroom dubbed the Black Tooth Bash will wrap up the honorative proceedings tomorrow, with some of the same stars in attendance as here.

Various clips of him performing and cutting up fill the big screens (cheesy as heck ones, too, including one of him singing the country song "Family Tradition" looking like a reject from Autograph). Then, the all-stars launch into a nasty-good version of "Mouth for War" with Jamey Jasta on vocals and someone else on guitar (a lefty: not Kerry King, not Metallica's Kirk Hammett. Hmmm.)

Now it's Drowning Pool's C.J. Pierce, who fails to intro Max Cavalera about to sing "A New Level." Looks like Igor Cavalera on drums ... and Jaysus, this version is way heavy. Bravo (bang bang bang ... )! Then King Diamond - that's Frisco resident King Diamond, folks, and in full makeup, overcoat and top hat - adds some high-wail color. Niiice!

Pregnant pause ... sheesh, like with twins or something ... it's been five minutes now ... heck with this. I'm going to hydrate. Though the next number is an acoustic piece with way-too-thunder-like drums. Where's my water?

The final round went by very, very quickly. We were very happy with the score of 5.7 that we gave "The Guardian," even though it seemed our compatriots thought he was clearly the best. (Could it have been the drinks?)

Anyhoo, they say they'll be back in a couple of minutes with the name of the winner. And after that, they want everyone to stay for an all-star jam. And the winner is ...

5. Hardcore Hershey Highway
4. Johnny V.
3. Deviled Elvis
2. Rocko Collins

The Guardian won. We still think Rocko was the best. Ah, well. We had lots of fun, and I hope they invite us back next year.

It turns out that we were the Russian judges. But every judging pair was going in for the zingers. We had a guy in an Elvis cape, a guy in sparkly purple skintight everything and a blushing bride-to-be who threw her veil (and her modesty, it seems ... it's called a belt) to the crowd.

So, it's after 11 and the scores are being tallied for round 2. The top 5 move on to the compulsory round, where the organizers pick the song. The emcee looked a little bored, bless his heart. I thought the crowd might revolt when he pointed out "the lady in the A&M orange."

Well, it's official. We were hard on the contestants. Someone, from somewhere out in the crowd, threw something at us. Probably because for some reason, and I'm not calling any names, we were always the first team to comment and score. Whatever, man. This is America, land of the free and opinionated. Check yourself.

We just got briefed by the organizers. It seems there are 11 competitors, each getting 60 seconds to do their thing. No. Props. Allowed. That's instant disqualification. Ray asks, "Are we going to be the Russian judges," no doubt alluding to Olympics of old when those judges always gave the lowest scores.

We're judging on three things: technical merit, stage presence and airness. We get to use a scale of 4 to 6. They brought us more Sprite, and Hot Lixx Hulahan, the 2007 national champion took the microphone (wearing tails, no less). Be back soon ...

So, we're here at the Dallas regional for the U.S. AIr Guitar Championships. My significant other, who drives me everywhere (bless his heart), is going to help me judge. It's six judges tonight, so they're pairing us off. We're trying to think of a cool tandem name, but right now we'll go with the obvious: Dawn and Ray.

We're thinking that we're gonna like this gig. There's a guy in charge of getting us drinks (cold Sprites are us). And we let the organizers know that the Houston championships were in the countdown on ESPN's Sportscenter, of all places. It's dark, hot and the restaurant patrons, I'm sure, don't know what hit them. (There's a girl in the audience who I'm calling Lucy, you know, like from the Cartoon Network series Lucy, Daughter of the Devil? She's wearing red, blinking devil horns, very appropriate, I'm sure.) Oh, what a night this is going to be. Stay tuned ...

OK, it's only 7:30 ... but Warped Tour ends in about an hour, so this'll be my last entry today. Got a formal review to file (be sure to check that out here), though I do plan to stay for the start of Relient K, which has the choice final main-stage slot tonight. (A note, though: the last time slot is actually not a good one, since many of the tents are being disassembled and about half the crowd's gone by that time)

However, those tents are being broken down slower than usual today. Warped has a two-day break after today for the July 4 holiday, so time isn't a factor in terms of getting to another city by the morning. Amd that's nice because both artists and fans are hanging out longer.

Heck, 10 minutes ago, Katy Perry was STILL signing stuff - and sitting on the table in front of her tent instead of behind it. Granted, she had a bodyguard beside her ... but she was still smiling.

This Warped was ultra-smooth and really uneventful. I saw one person in distress because of the heat. I saw one gurney (and it was unoccupied). I saw no fights. I saw an amazing amount of collective rocking out, and nowhere near the levels of rudeness and discourtesy that I've noted in past years at Warped. All of that's despite both the heat and the most diverse crowd I've ever seen at a Warped Tour event.

Granted, 'diverse' means little in this case; the vast majority of attendees were, as usual, school-age kids. But this throng seemed to have kinder, gentler and more considerate kids in it.

See? Punk IS good.

See you next year!

That's being unleashed now by Buffalo, N.Y.'s Every Time I Die, which is absolutely killing folks with its larded-up-and-flash-fried brand of hardcore metal.

Telling moment: someone threw up a blow-up doll as a sacrifice, which proceded to body-surf its way up to the stage. Singer Keith Buckley proceded to grab it and give it a ride on his shoulders during several verses of "Ebolarama." All the while, his vocals are basically summoning the souls of the crowd members that the band had already slayed with its unbelievably intense and taut disrhythmic rhythms.

Wow. This, folks, is the future of post-hard-core. Even members of Paramore and Norma Jean are transfixed behind the stage. Yeeeaaah!

... for Ms. Perry: that she has to do a signing soundtracked by the horrendous racket that Greeley Estates is belching up (or, um, hurling?) on the Hurley Stage. Her tent is right across from it.

Arrggh! Get me out of here!

... OK. Katy Perry may have underwhelmed me, but some folks - oh, I'd say about 125 right now - liked her enough to line up at her artist booth. Not to buy fresh T-shirts or crushed-velvet pink gym shorts with her name arching across the buttocks, but to meet her.

Yep: this week's reigning queen of pop is signing stuff. Fifteen minutes after her set. With a smile on her face, and with what appears to be a great attitude. And with a pair of tight peach shorts on that look more like a 1950s-era girdle than fashion wear.

Mad, mod respect, Ms. Perry.

Ummm ... no.

I caught the last two songs of Katy Perry's set on the Hurley.com Stage, which is in the amphitheater. That would be where the Hurley Stage isn't (whew! on that near flub-up!). Where do they come up with these names? I wasn't the only one confused up by that, either ...

... anyway: Plenty showed up to see the newly minted, Cali-cute goof-pop star. Plenty grumbled on the way out, too. She looked almost sheepish, and sang "I Kissed a Girl" about as well as a sheep, too.

Now I'm listening to a better irony-dependent female act: Charlotte Sometimes on the Ernie Ball Stage. It's the smallest of all save for the Kevin Says Stage (upon which TAT, yet another gal-headed outfit, was tearing it up. Dang, did all of the female-led acts play at once today or something?).

Aaah, that's better. Even though it's still ironic rock, which I tend to abhor ... see, CS is from Joisey, and all Joisey rockers are good. :::ironic smirk:::

Man, oh man I love this band. As much as Paramore has been touring since "Riot!" shattered the ceiling for it in 2007, Hayley Williams is actually singing better than she did mid-year last year.

One niggle: the set lacks Paramore's usual seamlessness this go-round. Breaks between songs are a little awkward, almost as if it has to take a collective deeeep breath that lasts 15 seconds or so. Is it getting a little picky about itself, or is that a symptom of the heat? My bet is it's the latter.

She's supposed to take the Hurley Stage in about 10 minutes (ain't it humorous that she was scheduled to play such a small platform, even though she's got the No. 1 pop song in the country? Ha!). And the setting sun is approaching the horizon right behind the stage ... so unless you've got some hellacious sunglasses or the ability to squint hard for half an hour, she might not be visible to all that many.

Than again ... are all that many here to see her? Hmmm ... maybe that's why Family Force 5 have that big throng in front of 'em ...

Wooow. Christian funk rockers Family Force 5 has just about as many gathered around the Hurley Stage - a smaller stage set in a corner waaay across the tent concourses from the side-by-side Main Stages - as Story of the Year does in front of the south Main Stage.

SotY is performing its usual strong turn. So I'm taking in Family Force 5, and it's impressing me. "Supersonic" ripped: this unidentified song is equally frenzied and charismatic. These Atlanta-area guys are a little over-energized, and from screamo to electronica and funk punk, it's not above using just about every trick in the youth-rock textbook.

But it's got one of the intangibles that can't be taught: stage presence. Another: finesse. Slick, slick, slick. Hallelujah, eh?

Luis Dubuc is a metalhead.

You'd never know it from the synth-fried beats of his band, the Secret Handshake. It's the latest in a string of electro-emo major-label success stories out of the Dallas area - Mr. Dubuc's lived in Coppell since he was 14 - and his music has elements of most of those others (the Rocket Summer, PlayRadioPlay!, Forever the Sickest Kids, Metro Station (uh, sort of), etc.). His particular touch is to harden it up a bit and add a dash of trance and sludge.

Both his debut EP (Summer of '98) and full length (One Full Year) came out last year. Judging from the 1,200 or so that are clapping their hands in unison in front of him now - many of whom, he says, claim that they didn't realize he was from the area until they were already fans - he's chipped out a cool niche for himself.

Oh yeah, that metalhead point that I made? He lived in Venezuela until he was 9, and in Venezuela in the early 1990, metal topped the pop heap. Also: he was drummer for area metalcore act Thirty Called Arson before Drowning Pool caused the bottom to fall out of the metal scene in Dallas for a while. Hmph!.

Despite being around for only six years, Aggrolites are already pretty legendary for its party-ready ska-reggae music. It's kind of as if James Brown, Squirrel Nut Zippers, the Wailers and Slightly Stoopid were rolled into a giant sleeping bag. On Baja. With some, ah, "party favors" appropriate for the locale.

Anyway ... only once in my life have I seen a black man in a kilt (and that guy lives in Dallas!). Make that twice now, since a member of urban funk-metal act Fishbone is sitting in on saxophone for Aggrolites here, and he's sporting a Scottish skirt with no shirt Niiice.

That's part and parcel for the band's incessant crowd imploration, as well as its awareness that it's a party band and little more. "Oh, we can go all night," singer Jesse Wagner lamented after the crowd didn't please him during a sonic brake-check in the middle of "Don't Let Me Down." Um, wrong, dude: two minutes later, your set's over. Too bad ... so sad ... now shut that godawful tremolo organ down and head for the bus. Next!

Oh, they're here ... whichever two are the angels in Angels & Airwaves. But the band's a little flat, because the guitarist's axe was flat all throughout "It Hurts."

Otherwise, the spunk is there, even though front man Tom DeLonge revealed that he learned that a friend of his has been diagnosed with terminal cancer 20 minutes before showtime.

His effort is normally respectable (if not contrived), but today he's singing his lungs out. He had the crowd shake their arms in unison before launching into 'I-Empire" just now as a way to send "positive energy" to his pal in Cali. As disingenuine as AVA's music can feel at times, that's a seriously kickin' gesture ...

... too bad the band followed that with a profanity-caked hyperspeed old-school punk rollick. There goes that nice moment ...

Consider this: this is the last of back-to-back-to-back daily Warped stops. Yesterday it arrived overnight from near Kansas City: the day before that, it was the St. Louis area.

Also consider this: the front side of the east parking lot is stuffed with at least 30 aged RVs, mini-buses, van-trailer combos or worse. Half these bands aren't even in buses. That means the band drives itself from date to date.

Finally, consider this: though each act averages 30 minutes on stage, most of them have individual merchandise tents in the concourse areas. The smaller bands staff them with either themselves or maybe a close buddy or girlfriend; If their lucky, they might have a roadie or record rep there ... and if they're even luckier, they have press interest, a signing or two, an acoustic something-or-other -- or, in the case of Street Dogs, the Secret Handshake, Forever the Sickest Kids and Paige Wood, family in town to visit.

What a whirlwind.

Caught about 10 minutes of Jack's Mannequin, which is leukemia survivor and former Something Corporate singer Andrew McMahon's present deal. Not shabby - Mr. McMahon's on-stage A.D.D. mimicry is back in force, and he sang admirably, if not without a care about the occasional flattened note. This guy's piano rock should be much bigger than it is now in five years, if there's any justice in music ...

... and then there was As I Lay Dying just afterward on the left Main Stage. Bullocks about the heat: that band purged its post-hard-core demons out with brute force today (and that's fitting, since its a Christian act). Best set yet ... and for a band like that with limited appeal because of the music it performs, that's an achievement.

Set between the two main stages is a giant inflatable panel with the band schedules on it. Each band (well, the ones on most of the tour, anyway) has a vinyl-coated cloth sign with its name on it, and the panel is lined with hook-and-loop strips so that each band sign can be moved. Why? Because the order that acts play in is different at each Warped stop.

Angels & Airwaves' sign has a typo: 'Angels and Airways,' it says. Considering that it's one of the three biggest draws here (and considering how much of a control freak Tom DeLonge reportedly is), that's ironic as heck.

So by the time that those two stage schedules had been sent to my phone (by the way, they've arrived just after the gates opened the past two years), I missed these bands that were mentioned in my preview in today's GuideLive:

Anberlin, Horrorpops, Cobra Starship, From First to Last, the Briggs, Piotta and Norma Jean. I'd have barely caught a couple of others on side stages.

Sheesh! That's the last time I rely on that!

I caught the last part of Against Me!'s set on the right Main Stage. It was as expected; Tight, tense and swirling with electricity. Note: the singer sounds an awful lot like Ian Astbury of the Cult at times ...

Now, Gym Class Heroes are wooing and cooing on the left Main Stage. Singer Travis McCoy "messed up" his knee about a week ago, and that's taking away from what would normally be a much bouncier set. It's still fine, especially sonically, and Mr. McCoy is a tireless cheerleader, even when hobbled. But, unfortunately, bands need to be much more active to capture new fans at Warped, and without the sealed focus of an indoor venue, it loses a lot of its ability to entice the casual.

... sort of.

Canada's Protest the Hero is by far the most technical band at Warped this year. It's not disappointing in that regard: time changes, scale runs, vocal-style changes on a dime - heck, even the bassist is fingertapping rhythm runs.

The problem is that such bands often have to concentrate so much on not messing up, their general energy level suffers. The heat isn't helping: these guys are from Toronto, after all, not Tempe.

But dang. Considering the conditions, Protest the Hero is holding together admirably. You might even describe it as heroic.

The folks at Warped have made a few layout changes that seem mostly to be positive. For instance: there's a VIP platform between both main stages now: pay a premium, and it won't matter how short you are!

More non-profit and band booths are around this year, too, so the layout's been altered behind the main stages. Most concourses now run perpindicular to the big stages, which is killing flow to them. This is nice, though: a halfpipe for skating is to the right of those stages, which definitely enhances the essence of Warped: alternative youth activities.

I still have yet to get a performance sked, though they're apparently being handed out here and there. Or: they're being sold for $2 near the entrance. C'mon, that's just wrong.

You'd think, as this is the third year that Warped's offered to send stage schedules to your mobile phone via text messages, that it'd have the system virtually bug-proof.

Nope. I've received skeds for just two of the seven stages here. And they arrived on my phone at about 1:45 p.m., more than two hours after the bands started performing.

Not acceptable.

Yep: it's warm. Hot to some, I'm sure. But not that bad. There a light breeze, and clouds are forming to help out the keep-cool cause.

Something else that's cool: Beat Union, a punk-reggae band from the UK. Nice and plucky, those boys are ... though its set just now was a bit short on crackle and snap.

I have yet to get a handle on the band schedules, but one of the maddening aspects of Warped - that you don't know when bands are playing until the morning of - bit me on several levels. I wanted to see Anberlin, but it played a first-up slot before noon!

Jeez ... who else did I miss because I was two hours late? And who decided the start the fest at 11:20 instead of noon, as indicated?

... and I plan on posting a few blogs this afternoon and evening via my phone on what's hot, what's not, what rocks and what ... eh, use your own descriptor here.

Eight hours in nearly cloudless 95-degree heat. Dangit, the bands had better be decent this year. Unlike most teenagers, I'm very aware of my physical limits ...

On my way to the office for a pit stop of deadlines before heading out to the 2008 Vans Warped Tour, I ran into traffic james galore heading into downtown. LOTS of it. On south-bound North Central Expressway, on south-bound Stemmons Freeway (backed up well past American Airlines Center), on northeast-bound Woodall Rogers Freeway.

Warped started about 10 minutes ago, and I'm betting that those backups will be around for the next hour or two. So plan ahead if you're about to head on.

Also: usually, Warped Tour sends major-stage schedules by phone text about 30 minutes before the event starts. I haven't received mine yet. Uh-oh ...

Mike Modano, Willa Ford and Mark Cuban were among the crowd in a full house at Palladium Ballroom tonight. It was the VIP party-portion of the Reebok Heroes Celebrity Baseball Game, a fundraiser for the Heroes Foundation (Saturday in Frisco). Tonight's party included a concert by Geffen recording artists Lifehouse.

Charlie McKinney, 46, of Dallas, started the Heroes Foundation seven years ago to raise money to enable inner-city youth, and kids at risk, to participate in sports and educational programs. The foundation has raised about $3 million over the years.

Aside from the $1,000 per couple ticket price to tonight's shindig, a silent auction was underway with phenomenal pickings, such as a jersey from the 1980 olympic champion hockey team, an autographed Sex and the City movie poster, a collection of seven U.S. president-autographed baseballs, a Muhammad Ali autographed boxing glove, a custom painted Bruce Springsteen acoustic guitar with an autographed poster and many other collectible items.

Photo: Dancer-singer Willa Ford (left) and her husband Mike Modano of the Dallas Stars (right). (Nancy Moore)

Why non-profit radio and the loyal volunteers that run it are great:

Just got this email from KNON FM (89.3) DJ Blue Lisa (who usually does blues shows).

It's 9:45 and I just got a call from the station manager at KNON, and he needs someone to fill in on the Midnight to 4 am overnight Jazz show, so I've agreed to do it. I'll be honest and admit I don't know ANYTHING about jazz, but Dave thinks the jazz audience won't be too offended by the kind of blues I play on air, so what the heck, I'm going to do it. Tune in for a one time VERY special edition of all night Big Texas Blues tonight, Monday June 16, starting at the Midnight hour at 89.3 FM or worldwide on the web from the link at www.knon.org. KNON Radio - not just a job: it's a surreal adventure!

What do you want to bet it turns out to be fun listening?

The Tremoloco show at Sons of Hermann Hall last Friday night featured a nifty sit-in set by native-Texan Tejano-magnate Ruben Ramos. Mario Tarradell has written about Mr. Ramos before and has said,

While many Tejano music artists bank on the cowboy image, usually wearing fashionable Western garb such as pressed jeans, shiny boots and tailored shirts, Sugar Land, Texas, native Ruben Ramos prefers a more formal, stylish look. You'll always see the smooth, classy singer in dapper suits or, at the very least, silky shirts and slacks.

Like an old-fashioned Texas road house? Look no further than Deep Ellum. The Thursday night acoustic electric-campfire jam that Randell Fields (a.k.a. "Ranger Randell") has been putting on at Sons of Hermann Hall for a decade or so has matured into a real watering ground for musicians.

Check out this slide show with music that Jenni Mansfield Peal's hubby Tom shot just last night. Or re-visit a video here that The Dallas Morning News shot a while back in our Day in Dallas Culture package.

It's free; it's every Thursday night starting about 7 p.m. Ask bartender Helen, Kim, Frank or Jo to hook you up with a cold longneck beer or a house made margarita.

*Disclosure note: Yours truly appears in one of the photos; I was a customer at the Sons last night.

Photo: Bartender Kim Blake at Sons of Hermann Hall (Nan Coulter).

A funny thing became evident during Hatebreed's headlining set at Tuesday's Jagermeister Music Tour stop in Dallas: Jamey Jasta declared his love.

Not in so many words, of course. But Mr. Jasta put a notably impassioned and positive spin on Hatebreed's stock in trade: hard-core metal that progresses at one speed -- fast -- and is meant for one activity: moshing. (As my review of the show here states, that wasn't restrained at all at the Palladium Ballroom)

"After you leave this show, take something of value with you," he told the audience more than once. "Hatebreed is all about attitude and gratitude, because without you and this, we would be nothing."

Perhaps the fact that the show was being recorded for future release has something to do with this tactic. Actually, it didn't.

I can't overemphasize how fantastic Wednesday's Foxboro Hot Tubs concert was at the Loft (above the Palladium Ballroom; it's a sensational rooftop concert venue).

For those who don't know: Foxboro Hot Tubs is a side project of the members of Green Day with three other longtime musician pals. It plays re-constituted 1960s rock classics. It does it well.

Read my formal review of the show here. But know that so much more went on that evening (read some of it, below) that was not only supremely cool, but it made the 75-minute gig undeniably fun. Think what you will of Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool, but FHT was the picture of a band re-energized by not having to be so "itself," as well as not having to play some huge, impersonal arena.

It took a moment (more on that later), but I'm a Big Red Rooster booster. Their show started at 1 a.m. on the patio at Bourbon Rocks (the BoDeans were playing the main room). Drunk is the outfit of choice, it seems, on Sixth Street after midnight, but I waded through that to get to my destination.

Then, out of rap-where, lead singer Reyez unleashed his falsetto. And that's when I noticed that I was sinking into the gravel and sand (the term "patio" was used very loosely by the venue); My chocolate suede boots will never be the same. But I digress. These guys put out slick music that is a danceable hybrid of every genre they claim to be a member of. I love truth in advertising ...

From Multi-ID of Dallas rap group Big Red Rooster, before its rullll late Thursday night show ...

It is 9:42 the night of the show and I am dressed and ready to go! We got into Austin around 6pm and went straight to registration and load in. We are playing at The Bourbon Rocks Patio. The venue looked sick. I then swung by the hotel and headed over to Phils lil bros apartment here in Austin. We have been just hanging out for a lil bit having some beers. Trying to relax and get everything off our minds except the show. We are about to head over to the venue. The word on the street is that its mayhem. In a good way. We will prob just grab a bite to eat and hit up some bars. We have an interview at Bourbon Rocks before the show at 11. After that its time to rock.

From Reyez of Dallas rap group Big Red Rooster, before its late-late-late Thursday night show ....

Wuzzup yall. Its almost 10 o'clock and the whole band is finally together just chillin getting ready for the show. Its been a long day of travel and preperation and now all we got to do is kill it tonight. We've had a camera man from Dallas Morning News following us around shooting footage of us being us and that's been pretty cool. Now we're going to head out and get a bite to eat and grabb a couple drinks before heading to the venue. We're playing at a spot called Burbon Rocks tonight and when we loaded in earlier the set up was real cool. I heard that the club is packed so that's good news so all that's left to do is do what we do best, KILL IT!!! I'll hit yall after the show.

SXSW describes this Canadian guitarist's genre as "experimental." But in actuality, Kaki King's music is rather traditional as acoustic new age music, which is no longer considered an experimental genre for the most part.

What perhaps keeps Ms. King in the experimental camp is her guitar-playing technique, which incorporates percussive and rhythmic qualities - fret tapping, body slapping, string mashing -seldom heard from a guitarist these days. Think of her as Bootsy Collins mated with Sarah McLachlan, and you'd just about have her approach nailed.

But not quite. Her plain and frank singing voice brings to mind Suzanne Vega, and her diminutive stature (she barely five feet tall) and intense, raven-haired features give her stature among the songstress and emo crowds despite her relatively avant-garde compositions.

Her latest, "Dreaming of Revenge," is more electrified and mainstream than any of her previous albums. Her showcase at the 18th Floor of the Hilton Garden Hotel was a fitting meld of edgy quaintness and technical brevity, and with a full five-piece rock band to boot (please forgive the gain overload of the electric guitarist at the beginning: Ms. King could only smile herself at that)..

No wonder Foo Fighter Dave Grohl loves this musician so much. She has limitless potential. But will she sell out to fulfill that potential?

First verse: the singer leapt into the crowd. Within five seconds, he'd lost th sound on his mike. The bassist and guitarist stood in lyric-wise, as did the crowd: a fair amount of the 300 or so here knew the lyrics. The bassist has a flashlight taped to his instrument's headstock. Everyone but the drummer is bounding left and right constantly as Enter Shikari's dissonant electronica-metal-screamo wafts, envelops, overtakes.

No wonder this act has such a fervent following in Europe. It's a ball of absolute extreme petulance. And it's bloody fantastic to watch.

The singer-screamer-croaker just mounted the p.a. risers during "Return to Energizer. " He looks like he wants to jump. But he's already broken two mikes ... "Crappy American microphones," he said in predictably bratty Brit fashion.

One problem; these guys can't harmonize. They're always out of breath!

That's how the gents in Enuff Z'Nuff would have spelled it, anyway ...

Now that i've got antibiotics in me and a nice supply of medical-grade painkillers in my possession, the sinus infection seems to be at bay. So I'm finally out and about ...

... and I'm about to check out my favorite British breakout act of 2007. Not Amy Winehouse. Not Does It Offend You, Yeah?. Not Robyn (she's Norwegian, anyhow). Not any of those.

Enter Shikari plays in about 10 minutes at La Zona Rosa. Never heard of 'em? Well, it's one of just two unsigned acts to sell out the Astoria in London. It's Britain's example of how a band can get big without The Music Man behind it. It's neo-screamo - a little metal, a little punk, a little emo and a whole heap of attitude and aptitude - and it puts nearly all extreme music in America to shame.

Basically, Enter Shikari makes Avenged Sevenfold sound like Dokken, and My Chemical Romance sound like Winger. Yeah, that good.

Yakuza is finishing up here now ... hard-core ambient prog-metal with a saxophone. Think Crowbar crossed with Isis with a long-haired and tattooed Dave Koz at the helm. It's not as bad as it sounds.

I was in the convention center (again) and decided to check out the DirecTV live shows, starting with Martha Wainwright. Since I was about 30 minutes early, what I got instead was an earnest ode to Mississippi bluesman Robert Johnson. Even better, it came from a band from Belfast who rocked like some latter-day version of Creedence. I love it when pale Irish boys give shoutouts to a blues legend for spawning their kind of rock 'n' roll.

I just caught the tail end of their set, but it was almost like a tent revival. Especially after the Answer lead singer Cormac Neeson decided to divide the crowd right down the middle and have what he called a "Belfast blues-off." After leading the crowd in some old-fashioned call and response, the band jumped into some weirdly wonderful mix of low-bottom blues and '70s rock (is that the same thing?). It was as if the lead singer was spreading a special kind of holy ghost through the crowd, going so far as to even sing from his knees and punctuating it with a "Lord, have mercy!" (I swear it sounded as if it came from a singing deacon in one of the South Georgia churches from my youth.)

Multi-ID of Dallas rap group the Big Red Rooster ...

Whats up! Its early afternoon on Thursday. I am sending off this email from the road in Waco! Reyez has been in the back sleeping all day, guess he had a crazy time in New York. Well I thought I had everything ready for the trip and the show but I was wrong. About an hour outside of Dallas I realized I left my in ears and microphones back at my house. Well we went back and got them and that set us back a lil but we are still on our way. Ha Ha no matter what we always come through! So back on the road and ready to rock! Ill hit you up again when I get to Austin.