Seriously, what's with the House of Blues downtown toying around with all our '90s modern rock nostalgia as of late?
In the past eight months or so since the HOB has opened, the folks on Caroline have booked almost every quasi-major alt-rock band of the last decade, that has not died of an overdose or succumbed to early senility (cough, Courtney Love, cough).
It was just last week that Gavin Rossdale of Bush trotted out his solo pony show to a packed crowd of aging Gen-Xers. Live came and pl
Primus circa 1998, Copenhagen, DenmarkAs the title of this feature might suggest, '90s nostalgia is in full swing, and one of the orders of the day is reexamining the aesthetic reputation of bands we liked when we were teenagers but of whom we subsequently became embarrassed, swapping them in our esteem hierarchy with the once-cool dads they originally supplanted.
The rehabilitation of '90s alt-rock has begun to pick up steam in the past year, yielding such phenomena as both MTV.com and the Onio
Fans of the 1990s funk-metal band Primus can't forget that famous Woodstock '94 footage, where the band's resident bass god, Les Claypool, dexterously covered Metallica's "Master of Puppets," slapping out the guitar part on his signature Carl Thompson. To top it off, he then brought out legendary grunge guitarist Jerry Cantrell, and spent the next 10 minutes going lick for lick with Alice in Chains' axe madman.
