By Joseph Hess
By Joseph Hess
By Allison Babka
By Gina Tron
By Kelsey McClure
By Roy Kasten
By RFT Staff
By Oakland L. Childers
Another good thing about the site is its attempt to cover different types of music: Bands can identify themselves as everything from bluegrass to techno. Of course, the vast majority of bands signed up so far are filed under "Rock." Hurry up, you could be the first artist under "Folk"!
Of course, that will change, and pretty soon the site will get swamped by the eternal memory of the Internet. Now that the Internet boom has subsided, sites like these are put up with more thought and more care, and that shows on STLScene. But to really be successful, it needs bands and traffic, so only time will tell. Of course, they'll get all nine Radar Station readers, now.
Does Humor Belong in Music?, Frank Zappa once asked with an album title. The question has never been satisfactorily answered. For Zappa the answer was hell, yes, but that's in large part because even with songs such "Titties and Beer," Zappa melded juvenile sniggering with serious composition. His music was good for the whole brain. The brothers Ween do pretty much the same thing, existing as a joke band only on the surface, getting you laughing so that they can bore their strange genius into your skull.
But if humor is all you've got, there's not much hope for you, outside of one-hit-wonder status. In fact, Zappa himself only broke into the Top 40 once, with the overly jokey "Valley Girl." The Offspring are repeat offenders, a multiple one-hit wonder instead of a band with a string of hits. The same could be said for Weird Al Yankovic, but he is the exception that proves the rule -- don't mess with Weird Al. Humor gets stale way before music does. You might listen to your favorite song over and over again, but you don't ask someone to tell a joke twenty times in a day.
This is a warning to the local boys in Ludo. To be witty is a wonderful thing, and Ludo has way more fun with its lyrics than most bands, especially their eponymous debut's opener, "Saturday Night Thunderbolt." Any band that compares a man to a "Sasquatch wookie boner" (okay, it's not Oscar Wilde, but this is rock & roll) in the first ten seconds of its record isn't striving for the label artiste. At times they get close to the snotty attitude of the Dead Milkmen (for all their humor, another one-hit wonder: "Punk Rock Girl"). Ludo's Southern Cali pop-punk-meets-Weezer sound is fun but not catchy or original enough to carry the band without the jokes. The dour breakup lament "Sara's Song" isn't anywhere as good as the manic "Good Will Hunting," which ends in a crazed, hilarious rant against an ex. Vocalist Andrew Volpe is obviously having a good time here, and you'll probably have a good time if you go see his band at the Creepy Crawl this Friday. But will the joke be funny in five years?