ATLAS ROCKED

Atlas heard the good music above. And he rocked.

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WE HAVE A NEW SITE! PLEASE VISIT US!

WE'RE LEAVING TUMBLR BUT HOPEFULLY NOT YOUR HEARTS. YOU CAN STILL CHECK US OUT AT WWW.ATLASROCKED.COM, HOWEVER, YOU WON'T SEE ANY MORE UPDATES ON HERE.

TO ALL OF OUR FOLLOWERS, REBLOGGERS, AND POST-LIKERS: THANKS FOR ROCKING OUR FACES OFF AND MAKING THIS A KICKASS BLOGGING EXPERIENCE. WE HOPE YOU WILL FOLLOW US TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!

LOVE,

THE SPOONMAN, THE SHREDDER, THE SHINING, THE SHRIMP MAGNET, AND THE SPANIARD

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Atlas Rockshotz | The Shredder with Warpaint's Emily Kokal

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Song for a Soundtrack | Moby - "Flower"

Moby's "Flower" is on the soundtrack for Gone in 60 Seconds; it's the second song to play during the movie's opening credits.

We're also pretty sure "Flower" is what this NFL Play 60 commercial song would sound like if you were high out of your gourd. 

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Mid-Day Metal | Revolver's Golden Gods, KISS-Crue Tour, and New Ministry Video

Revolver's Golden Gods - VOTE NOW!

Kickstart my heart! KISS and Motley Crue will tour together starting this summer. Not a huge KISS fan but love me some Crue. And each show is bound to just be balls-out rock awesomeness. 

Video for Ministry's "99 Percenters" (credit to Revolver) — an unfortunate intersection of heavy metal and politics:

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Rando | 5 Songs with French Lyrics (Besides the Ones That Immediately Come to Mind)

...meaning Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance", Labelle's "Lady Marmalade", and B*Witched's "C'est La Vie".

Peter Gabriel - "Games Without Frontiers"

French lyrics/Google Translate: 

"Jeux san frontieres" — "Games without frontiers/borders/boundaries"

  Talking Heads - "Psycho Killer"

French lyrics/Google Translate: 

"Qu'est que c'est" — "What is it?"

"Ce que j'ai fais, ce soir la...ce qu'elle a dit, ce soir la...realisant mon espoir...je me lance, vers la gloire" — "What I am doing tonight...what she told me, tonight, realizing my hope, I start, to glory"

  Megadeth - "A Tout le Monde"

French lyrics/Google Translate:

"A tout le monde...a tout mes amis...je vous aime...je dois partir" — "To everyone...to all my friends...I love you...I have to leave"

Arcade Fire - "Black Wave / Bad Vibrations"

French lyrics/Google Translate:

"Je nage, mais les sons me suivent" — "I swim, but the sound follows me"

"Ce sera un long voyage...sur les vagues de l'oubli" — "It will be a long journey...the waves of oblivion" 

The Beatles - "Michelle"

French lyrics/Google Translate:

"Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, très bien ensemble" — "Are words that go together well, well together"

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Classic Rock Memes | PANAMA!

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Guilty Pleasure | B*Witched - "C'est La Vie"

You thought you had clicked the "Delete Forever" button on this spunky Irish girl group, right? WELP, take a minute to bask in late 90s pop nostalgia. 

B*Witched was, by most accounts, a flop. But while I'm not going to say I enjoy this upbeat, infectious little single featuring David Lee Roth-esque moments of brogue-y chatter, the video is definitely worth watching a few...or 15...times. How did this group of early-30-something lesbians with a penchant for Canadian tuxedos not get farther? Do you think a composite image of all their faces would yield Tina Fey?

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Mid-Day Metal | Tool's Danny Carey is a Beast

We apologize to you and your co-workers for the rabid air drum fit this post will undoubtedly induce. Today, Blabbermouth is highlighting drumstick manufacturer Vic Firth's three-part feature on Tool drummer Danny Carey. In the piece, Carey dishes on all things Tool, including the band's plans for recording a new album. There's also plenty of kick-ass live footage of the statuesque percussionist prodigiously pounding away on his drum set.

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Singles Bar | Beach House, Guards, Miike Snow, Dive & More

New and old music we've discovered over the past week that we think you should be listening to...

Thom Yorke - "Atoms for Peace (Four Tet Remix)"

Beach House - "Myth" 

Noblesse Oblige - "The Great Electrifier"

Glasser - "Apply"

  Mister Lies - "I Walk"

White Rabbits - "Heavy Metal"

Hot Chip - "Flutes"

  Guards - "Feels Like That" 

Miike Snow - "The Wave"

El-P - "The Full Retard"

Dive - "Geist"

Impending Doom - "Murderer"

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Middle School Reflections | "Peaches" and Oasis

In 6th grade, my longtime "girlfriend" pulled me aside and broke up with me. Not wanting to accept the fact that SHE had dumped ME, I employed some crafty revisionism to make it look like a mutual parting of ways: my response was something along the lines of "Yeah, that's probably for the best. I'm glad we've reached this decision together". And seeing that I was hurt, I think she let me have it. But now, almost 20 years later, I'm comfortable acknowledging that she in fact initiated the break-up. Besides, she later scribbled in my 8th grade yearbook that I was the best guy she had ever known, that my intelligence was intimidating, and that, all in all, I was just too good for her. So, yeah, I won that shit. 

Anyway, we broke up at the end of 1995/beginning of 1996 (I was 12). And not soon after we/she called things off, she started dating this skater dude. It was about that time when girls start gravitating towards "bad" boys and away from "nice" guys. I, despite sporting classic good looks and being immensely talented at everything, was very, very nice...and well...pretty square.

The skater dude was "cool"; he had long hair, parted down the middle, and he got B's and C's — just plain dangerous. Totally understood his appeal. 

Well, Valentine's Day 1996 rolled around pretty quickly, and of course, Skater got Ex a present AND made a public display of it by giving it to her IN CLASS. Even worse, I'm pretty sure he eyeballed me during the long boner hug he got in return, like "Yeah, buddy, in your face." What a dick. However, the most tortuous aspect of this emotional circus was that the gift was "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?", the album by Oasis which had just been released the previous fall. I WAS GOING TO GIVE HER THE SAME CD RIGHT BEFORE SHE DUMPED ME. Awww, right? 

So, it's just my luck that Oasis isn't absolutely awful, and this album blows up. " Wonderwall "gets played a thousand times a day, and I now have to deal with the fact that this is "their" song. FML. Well, it all came to a boiling point at our end-of-the-year dance. Ex and Skater showed up with the "cool" crowd, and I tried to make the best of it with my nerd friends and some rebound chick. I ran into Ex a few times at the punch bowl, and she did the whole obligatory sympathetic "Heyyyy...how are you?". And I was all like "Better than you'll ever be. See my friends over there, they're awesome as shit. We're probably going to my house later to play Super Nintendo, watch White Squall, and make some prank phone calls. And oh yeah, that bitch over there, I'm rollin' with her now. And there will be NO SPACE between us when we slow dance. NO. SPACE."

No, I didn't say that; I wish I had. I probably said something lame like "I'm having a great time! How about you?!" with a beet-red face.

The night rolled on, and inevitably, the douchebag DJ not only drops "Wonderwall" but encourages everyone to belt out the words. So there we all are, congregated in the middle of the dance floor, singing along. My rebound chick and I...we weren't dancing together...nor were we just standing there. We were just kind of awkwardly near each other...not really swaying...but just kind of ungracefully shifting our weights between our left legs and our right legs. And I look around, and what do I see but Ex and Skater gazing into each other's eyes, their disgusting smitten hands intertwined. It was too much. 

My heart sunk as I beelined for the chairs that were set up against the wall. I just wanted to sit down, away from everyone else, in my all-navy dress pants and golf shirt — alone. Rebound chick annoyingly came over after a few minutes, suspecting something was wrong. However, I couldn't talk to her, let alone deal with her inadequacy, so I stormed out to the men's room. I was a mess. How was I going to move on? Ex was the first girl I talked to on the phone every night. The first girl I couple-skated with. The first girl I had a three-way with — sometimes I'd call her and then dial in one of my buddies. GOD. 

In the restroom, I tried to get a grip. I paced and paced. I splashed water on my face. I looked in the mirror and called myself a winner. Every few minutes one of my buddies would come in and jokingly accuse me of playing with myself — standard. But they were wrong...Ex was playing with my heart. And you know what? I was over it. I WAS a winner. I had to get back out there. Nothing was going to break-a my stride...nobody was going to slow me down. Oh no.

I felt a surge of energy. I gripped the sink counter like a pulpit...like I was about give a speech on kicking everyone's ass. I was BACK. Interestingly enough, just like a scene from a movie, this restoration of my personhood coincided with the playing of a new song. I listened intently...what was it? I opened the restroom door slightly and stuck out my ear. Ah-ha! It was the quirky intro to the song "Peaches" by The Presidents of the United States of America.

I burst through the door and bolted for the dance floor. I found my friends, and we proceeded to rambunctiously bounce around and headbang for the next 2 1/2 minutes. Ah, "Peaches", a song with a sense of humor and plenty of oddball confidence. It was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect musical complement to my phoenix-esque rise from the ashes. And Chris Ballew was right: there were indeed millions of peaches....peaches for me. 

The dance ended, and I, sweaty and shirt untucked, waited outside for my dad to scoop me up. I horsed around with a few bros and had one of those bizarre fits of hyperactivity you experience when you're younger — when your brain can't fully process one complete thought, and you're doing all sorts of stuff that adults find off-putting and unfunny. Anyway, during a brief moment of calm, I saw Ex and Skater walk out and go on their way. After a few seconds, she turned back, and we made eye contact. She gave me a :-/ and a sheepish wave. I waved back.  

She wouldn't admit it until a few years later. But, right then, at that very moment, I knew...that I had won that shit.

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Friday Video | Amazing Funeral Scene from Eastbound & Down

You Kenny Powers fans out there saw this amazing funeral scene, featuring Candlebox's "Far Behind" and Pearl Jam's "Alive", at the end of the most recent episode. It was so awesome we decided to make it our Friday Video. Enjoy: 

Also, for the 3 Candlebox fans out there, Revolver is carrying their new single "Believe In It". Check it out:

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Morning Metal | Queensryche - "Queen of the Reich"

Bad-ass song but even better video. Star Wars-esque upward scrolling text intro...credits introducing the band members...low production value...budget set...and oh yeah, a woman taking a laser beam in the hooters — YES, PLEASE! 

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Tres Duenos - "Originales"

It took us years, but we finally found a Latin American song that a.) didn't sound like EVERY OTHER Latin American song and b.) wasn't a pop radio taint forest produced by Pitbull. Ladies and gentlemen, Tres Duenos! 

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Mid-Day Metal: Rush and Peter Gabriel Pulling Songs from Limbaugh Program

Finally, something relatively interesting about the Sandra Fluke-YOU contraception debacle. Apparently advertisers aren't the only ones upset with foul-mouthed conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh. Guitar World is reporting that TMZ is reporting that the band Rush no longer wants their song "The Spirit of Radio" to be played on Limbaugh's radio program and has taken related legal action. Eh, Rush is from Canada, and we also think they're libertarians, so it was a bad fit to begin with. 

Additionally, Peter Gabriel called for his song "Sledgehammer" to be removed from the show.

Again, bad fit. Gabriel is known to be a supporter of the Labour Party in the U.K., and that song in particular is supposedly...about sex. Oh, well then, maybe it was appropriate. Oh yeahhhh:

Anyway, while Limbaugh was in the wrong, and well, frankly, we're not sure how the bloated, blustery blowhard got a radio show in the first place, this does smack of classic celebrity reactionary bandwagon-ness — which, in this case, has probably resulted in the right outcome but 9 times out of 10 leads to distorted public debate about very important issues.

Do you think Rush or Peter Gabriel had any idea that there songs were associated with Limbaugh before now? Probably not, and they probably didn't care. I know they can't keep tabs on every host of x,y, and z that uses their songs, but Limbaugh's pretty high-profile. And he's been on the radio and saying asinine things for years. I guess it would just be nice if celebrities were consistently engaged in our general civic discourse in more meaningful ways — instead of just haphazardly jumping in to nab PR points. 

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Grimes | Alien of the Year

Lil Wayne claims to be some kind of alien; "Hello, it's the martian" he raps on Drake's "I Want This Forever". And in a lot of ways, he is. He is strange-looking, he rocks Predator dreads, and his vocals, these days a blend of auto-tune and his own unique articulations, are probably the best approximation of what our traditional conception of extraterrestrial life would sound like if it could communicate using human language. 

But I don't think he's claiming to be an actual alien (unless he's lost it); I believe he strives to be an artistic alien, if you will: a performer that brings you something so fresh, different, and unique, that it's unlike anything you've ever seen or heard before — like...it's from another planet. Now, I'm a fan of Lil Wayne; he's industriousness, prolific, interesting, and inventive. However, in my opinion, he's losing the alien race to a girl who may not even know she's competing. This girl would be Claire Boucher. You may know her as Grimes. 

While Lil Wayne does paint with an expansive palette, there are just inherent creative limitations to the core musical stylings he deals in. And his songs are also grounded by his (mostly) literal lyrics. Though he always provides an entertaining abundance of clever quips and one-liners, he primarily sings about material possessions, sexual conquests, and overcoming various hardships. Even so, it could be argued that Lil Wayne offers a distinctly different product from other rappers. But in the grand scheme of music, he's like a hamster running on a wheel for hours on end — an impressive dynamo but not exactly forward-moving. 

Listening to Grimes, on the other hand, is like wearing a virtual reality helmet and whimsically exploring some alternate universe — like the beach Jodie Foster "visits" in the movie Contact. We have no idea what Grimes is singing about. All we know is that her voice, which almost functions as an instrument, alternates between bizarre but endearing infantile noises and ethereal falsetto, transporting us through an infinite number of dreamlike soundscapes. And her fluid brand of electronica vaguely resembles a number of things but at the same time exists entirely in its own dimension. 

A true artistic alien isn't just a mere shade of someone or something else. It speaks a different language and opens your eyes to new possibilities. It challenges convention and calls into question the assumptions you make. And embracing such an alien should be a slightly unsettling but ultimately very, very satisfying experience. 

That's what you get with Grimes. 

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Atlas Rock Your Friends! A.K.A. Impress Them with Trivia...

Did you know...?

Andy Summers, guitarist for The Police, was the leader of the house band for The Dennis Miller Show in 1992.  

80s synth-rock outfit Shakespear's Sister (yes, that is the correct spelling), known for the hit song "Stay", was started by Siobhan Fahey — once a member of Bananarama. Fahey married-then divorced David Stewart, who was one half of the Eurythmics. 

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Agents of Rock: Season 1, Episode 8 - "Footloose at 30,000 Feet"

America has the FBI and the CIA — but who’s going to save rock and roll? In this new web series, Jack White and Dave Grohl are the Agents of Rock, leading the resistance against the evil purveyors of crappy, toothless music.

Catch up on Agents of Rock here.

Jack and Dave sprinted from the large tree they were hiding behind to a perimeter fence, ducking as much as possible.

They were just outside the warehouse where Nickelback was storing the hard copies of their new album, as well as the MP3 files that would be uploaded to the internet.

"Whaddaya got?" asked Jack, down on one knee and shoving a magazine into his handgun.

Dave peered into a small pair of night-vision binoculars. "A couple of guards joking around, a golf cart, a search light scanning the other side of the premises, and whoa, a few totally naked babes!" he said. 

Jack looked up excitedly, and his eyes grew wide. "What? Let me see!"

"Haha! Just fucking with you," said a chuckling Dave. 

"Asshole," said Jack, disappointed. "Alright, for real, we need to make our move before that goddamn search light comes back this way," he continued. 

"Weapon. Check. Comm device. Check. As usual, I'm ready to rock," said Dave. 

"Yeah," said Jack. He fiddled around with some of the pockets on his combat vest. "I'm good. Let's do this." 

"Wait," said Dave. "One more thing..."

"What? What is it?" asked Jack. 

Suddenly Dave gruesomely transformed into a zombie, and before Jack could react, Zombie Dave was sinking his teeth into Jack's arm. 

Jack abruptly woke from his nightmare, sweating and out of breath. He wiped his mouth, pushed back his disheveled hair, and frantically checked his arms and neck for bites.  

He unbuckled his seat belt and looked around. Everyone was fast sleep, including Dave, who was still human. Jack's eyes moved to the Hare Krishna, who was awake and lying in the aisle for some reason. The Hare Krishna smiled and waved creepily.

Jack uncomfortably returned the gesture and then turned forward. After a minute or so, Jack's heart rate slowed, and he regained his bearings. 

The plane was cruising smoothly, and some sunlight started to make its way through the windows. Jack got up to stretch and figured he would go check on Kenny Loggins in the cockpit. 

"Morning, Kenny," said Jack, shuffling carefully towards the empty co-pilot seat. 

"Hey, buddy! What's going on? Can't sleep?" asked Kenny.

"No, actually, just had a really bizarre nightmare," said Jack. 

"Oh man. Yeah, this line of work can be stressful. It'll get to you sometimes. Here, have some coffee," said Kenny, handing Jack a small cup of joe.

"Thanks," said Jack. He savored a few sips of the coffee and took in the view.

"Yeah, I dreamt that Dave and I were just about to bust up the Nickelback headquarters when he turned into a zombie. I guess it would be kind of funny if it weren't a real possibility," said Jack.

"Ah, don't worry, that'll never happen," said Kenny.

"Yeah, let's hope not," said Jack.

"No, I mean it. You guys won't...wait...did they not tell you?" asked Kenny.

"What? No? Tell us what?" said Jack, sitting up in his seat. 

"Look, I'm just Kenny Loggins, man, I can't really explain it. But, it's like something in your blood, something in you, that makes you immune to the effects of, you know, Nickelback and other crappy music. I think it's like the whole Jedi thing, with the force and the midi-chlorians." 

Jack was stunned.

"Wow," he said. It occurred to him that he and Dave had just accepted so many aspects of this mission. There were so many questions that had yet to be answered. 

Jack then had a flashback to the encounter he and Dave had with the zombie kid — who was listening to new Nickelback.

"Holy shit, Kenny, you're right. Earlier, we ran into this zombie...kid, boy, whatever, and he was listening to new Nickelback. And we could hear it....and nothing happened to us," said Jack.

"Yep," said Kenny. 

Jack's mind was racing. "But...but what about the Hare Krishna, the dwarves, what about those guys? I mean, yeah, they're on our side and everything..."

"Ha, this is above my pay grade, Jack. But I have a feeling it's just like anything, man. You're born with a little, you learn a little. In the end, rock JUST KNOWS the heart and the mind. Those dudes back there...they know what's up. They hang out with those chicks. They listen to good shit. They get it."

"So, then it's not all Nickelback's fault. Yeah, their music keeps getting worse. But there are people out there who are choosing to listen to it."

"I mean, yeah, that makes sense, right? As long as something has a market or an audience, it's got a lifeline," said Kenny.

"This problem is bigger than we thought," said Jack. 

"Yeah, most likely," Kenny said flippantly. "But don't worry, man. You guys will be fine. You, Dave, the girls, me, we've all got it...whatever it is...no one on this plane is going to be turning into a zombie," said Kenny. 

Jack's face wore a blank expression. Overwhelmed, he slumped back in his seat. 

"Jesus, this whole thing is just...I don't even know," said Jack.

"I know, man. It's wild. It's great!" said Kenny.

The two men sat silently in the cockpit for a few minutes, and the steady hum of the plane's engines filled the air. Kenny monitored the controls and seemed relatively unaffected by the conversation he just had with Jack.

Jack, however, kept mulling over the gravity of what they had just discussed. Of course he wanted to do his part. But he had hoped that once this singular mission was over, he could return to his normal, everyday life. Now, he was starting to have this sinking feeling that he would never escape. Life as he knew it before might be over.

Saving and preserving rock and roll does indeed have multiple dimensions, he thought to himself — the supply side and demand side must be addressed. He was confident they would be able to stop Nickelback, but this wouldn't be a permanent solution. As long as people craved or even tolerated mediocre music, they would really just be creating a dangerous power vacuum. 

Jack tried to exert some mental discipline. He decided this was too much to think about and process right now. He had to get his head back in the game.

He tried to make some light small talk with Kenny.

"So...uh, how did you get mixed up in all this?" asked Jack.

"Ah, I was just kind of floating around, looking for something new. You can only collaborate with Michael McDonald so many times, or do so many soundtracks. And Messina wouldn't return my calls, and you know, honestly, I actually just ran out of album title names. Return to Pooh Corner, More Songs from Pooh Corner, It's About Time, How About Now. The well was dry, dude," said Kenny.

He continued, "Then, I was at some dive bar in L.A. I think I had been drinking and doing coke for like, 4 straight days...maybe 5...I don't remember...and in walks Sir Paul McCartney. I started yelling, "band on the run! band on the run!". I got up from my bar stool to greet him, and next thing I know, I'm waking up in a white bathrobe in his goddamn apartment. I had passed the fuck out at the bar! I mean, just FACE-PLANTED. Me, Kenny Loggins. Can you believe that? Anyway, we got to talking and eventually got around to soundtracks. You know he did that "Live and Let Die" song for that Bond movie, right? Yeah, so, we just connected, and he asked me if I'd be interested in this gig. So...here I am."

"Were you already a pilot? Did you have your license?" asked Jack. Kenny's story had blown his mind, and he was now thoroughly confused. 

"Nope! How about that? On-the-job training, my man. Yeah!" said a pumped-up Kenny. 

"You've got to be kidding me," said an unsettled Jack.

"Hey -- how about some music? I got a bunch of CDs over there in that compartment. Take a look," said Kenny.

Jack opened a small door and down came a torrent of pornographic magazines. 

Juggs

Nuts 

Spicy Latinas

Asian Fever

Barely Legal

Knuckle Magazine 

It was a print buffet of exposed body parts and sexual fetishes.

"Kenny, what the fuck?!" yelled Jack.

"Oh, sorry, dude. Thought I threw those out," said a sheepish Kenny. 

"How much longer until we land?" asked Jack, firmly gathering the magazines and placing them back in the compartment. 

"Oh, not long at all. I'd say an hour or so," said Kenny.

"Great," said Jack. 

"Sorry, man. Inappropriate, I know," said Kenny.

Jack closed his eyes in discomfort. "Not a big deal. Let's just not talk about it again. Ever."

"Totally...so, Jack, tell me, have you ever seen a grown man naked? Haha!" asked Kenny, throwing his right hand up for a high five.