Better to Flame Out?
We look at some of St. Louis' almost-beens, chat with Marah and plan to scar our liver at Beat Fest
No matter where you end up doing the sodomy dance or which DJ you love (even though all you can remember about her name is that is has "DJ" in it), Beat Fest is sure to be a time. It's one of St. Louis' best biannual sources of raucous stories to tell when you stagger into the office Monday morning.
Eh, make that Monday afternoon. -- Jess Minnen
Major-Label Flameouts
Black Skies in Broad Daylight, the Living Things' debut album on Geffen, is just hitting stores this week and, despite their rather unkind public comments about St. Louis, this bureau wishes the former Skoobies nothing but the best. Here's hoping that these onetime Hanson imitators storm the charts in their new guise as Stooges imitators. But as history shows, for every Nelly and Story of the Year there are a dozen acts who fail to "put St. Louis on the map," despite backing from the corporate beast. Here are four cautionary tales of major-label failure by local acts, presented in the hope that the Living Things won't blow that whole advance on leopard-skin Humvees. (They make you pay that money back, you know.) -- Jason Toon
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