INFECTIOUS GROOVES were the soundtrack for many nights of chaos and mischief in my high school years. In fact, there was one occasion where I was asked to leave the classroom after telling a substitute teacher that my name was Aladdin Sarsippius Silamanagic Jackson the third. If you've ever listened to an Infectious Grooves album, you know exactly who I'm talking about. If not, shame on you - and for the record, I did leave the room, but never got in trouble.
I still remember seeing KORN for the first time when they were the opening act on a tour that included MEGADETH, FLOTSAM AND JETSAM, and FEAR FACTORY. At the time, much of the black-shirt crowd had no idea what to make of them. Their self-titled first album was fresh onto the record store racks, and I was pretty-much hooked. The combination of Korn's bass-heavy rumble, Ross Robinson's production skills, and a slight aura of mystery were enough to rope in listeners from the darkest corners of the musical spectrum - and well beyond - to catapult the band to mainstream stardom.
As they say, "everyone has to start somewhere..."
For me it was the summer of 1992. I'd moved to Davenport, Iowa from my longtime home in the South Suburbs of Chicago the prior February, somehow managing to find myself elected Vice-President of my class for my upcoming junior year of high school at Davenport North. I was 15, bored, and obsessed with film, television, and music.
When M.I.A. seemingly came out of nowhere to score pop-gold with her second album KALA in 2007, music critics nearly creamed their pants with overindulgent praise. While I enjoyed the album, I never could understand the hype around it.
On her latest album /\/\ /\ Y /\ (or simply MAYA), the multi-faceted artist has assembled a collection of barely-listenable audio diarrhea, that without the support of a major label would find itself buried alongside countless "experimental" indie noise releases.