We'd love to tell you all about the Fastbacks, Death Cab for Cutie, Elliot Smith, and all the other hot poop that went on this past weekend, but seeing as we're stuck with evil early deadlines through the New Year, and neither Miss Cleo nor any other personal Psychic Friend will take our calls (man, you miss one Discover Card payment . . . ) we'll have to stick to weekday reports. So here goes: Wednesday night was a great time for British Columbia's Hot Hot Heat to visit our cold, cold town. The Canadians sounded at first like one of those Omaha indie/emo outfits, say Sorry About Dresden or Cursive, but after they warmed up the Crocodile crowd a bit, it was apparent that their sound and influences were far more interesting and old-school than that. Lead singer and keyboardist Steve Bays has a bit of Mick in him, but it was nicely evened out by that vaguely British sense of drama (see Robert Smith) that so many American bands shy away from. Comparisons to Mike Maker wouldn't be uncalled for either, so it makes extra good sense that the kids at Sub Pop are currently courting the band and have hopes of putting out their next record. . . . The sordid Nirvana saga continues, with Mama Cobain jumping in the ring. In an open letter to fans, she rips apart her son's former bandmates, stating that the pair "never wrote a Nirvana song in their lives. For them to have formed an equal partnership (LLC) is ridiculous beyond comprehension." Krist Novoselic ("an extremely wealthy and decadent man" whom Kurt "despised" but kept around probably because "he was willing to help drive") gets the sharpest end of the stick, while Dave Grohl receives slightly gentler treatment ("From the day Dave started work in the band, he demanded more and more money and threatened to leave on a regular basis"); both, along with their reps, are unequivocally called "liars and crooks." In
conclusion, Wendy Fradenburg Cobain O'Connor states, "My son died tragically and I believe his death could have been prevented by proper medical care and he was denied help by selfish and criminal behavior of the people who so callously revise their personal histories today. My family has suffered hugely and been ripped off for a fortune. It's never been in my nature to take advantage of my son's stunning success, but I know that my son would want me to stand up for him and his family in this moment of what I can only describe as total betrayal." Sheesh. And you thought Judge Judy could get ugly. . . . The Breeders are back! Anyone who caught their kick-ass show at the Croc (featuring, of course, Kim 'n' Kelly Deal, plus Jose Medeles and Fear members Richard Presley and Mando Lopes) a few months ago, knows that's the truth, but it's not just a reunion tour anymore. The rumor going around at that gig is becoming fact—there will indeed be a new record, and it's due sometime around February 2002. . . . Low's Things We Lost in the Fire seems to be making many a year-end list, but those looking for a little more of a kick in the pants than the slo-core trio's low-register beauty usually offers are also in luck. Band member Alan Sparhawk has rustled up a side project of garage/punk/blues/ hillbilly mayhem called It's the Black Eyed Snakes (Chair Kickers), which covers some hot Howlin' Wolf and the Fall territory. Unlike other Low offerings, this ain't exactly one to put the baby to bed to. . . . Speaking of babies, just as the Weekly offices welcomed the arrival of news reporter Nina's lovely new girl Tessa, we got word that R&B singer Toni Braxton has actually anointed her fresh-out-the-womb firstborn Denim. We believe that runs neck and neck with John Travolta's son Jett for Worst Celebrity Offspring Moniker
of All Time, with George Foreman naming all five of his brood after himself coming in a close second. Hot tip to confused famous people: Other celebrity names (Ava, Tallulah) OK; cities (Brooklyn, Lourdes) not so good; inanimate objects (see above), BAD! . . . On that note, have a safe and sane New Year's everyone, and midnight kisses to you all.
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