by Dan Locke

COVER TEASER

“We’re coming to your town… we’ll help you party it down.”
Grand Funk Railroad’s Don Brewer looks back at fifty years on the road, anthems that shaped rock radio, battles behind the scenes, and why—after all this time—the music still hits just as hard.

THE HEARTBEAT OF AMERICAN ROCK: DON BREWER ON FIVE DECADES OF FUNK, FIRE & FM RADIO

There’s a certain rhythm that underpins American rock: a pulse equal parts grit, sweat, and rebellion. Few drummers personify that heartbeat more than Don Brewer, co‑founder and longtime rhythmic anchor of Grand Funk Railroad. With his unmistakable backbeat, powerhouse vocals, and songwriting chops, Brewer helped turn a blue‑collar trio from Flint, Michigan into one of the biggest arena‑filling acts of the 1970s.

From the early days of playing gymnasiums, to breaking the Beatles’ record by selling out Shea Stadium, to shifting gears in the era of FM hit radio, Brewer’s journey mirrors the evolution of American rock itself. In this expanded interview, he opens up about the music, the mayhem, the management battles, the fans, and the future.

Q&A WITH DON BREWER (EXTENDED EDITION)

EARLY DAYS — FROM GYM FLOORS TO FESTIVAL STAGES

Q: Grand Funk Railroad started in the late ’60s, right?
A: That’s right—1969. That was our first official show.

Q: Do you remember that show?
A: Vaguely. It was somewhere near Buffalo or across the border in Canada. Just a gymnasium dance, nothing glamorous. But it was new, exciting—we’d just taken on the name Grand Funk Railroad, and we were still figuring out who we were as a band.

Q: And pretty soon you were on massive stages.
A: The real turning point was the first Atlanta Pop Festival. We went down there as a favor for a friend and played for free. First day, 30,000 people. We finished our set and suddenly it was like, “Who are these guys?” The buzz was instant.

Q: That kind of exposure in 1969 was huge.
A: Massive. Back then, festivals were how you got discovered. No internet. No viral clips. You played your heart out and hoped people talked about you.
And they talked about us.

THE ROCKET RIDE — SHEA STADIUM & BEYOND

Q: Let’s talk Shea Stadium.
A: That was 1971. One of the wildest moments of our career. We were coming off our third album Closer to Home, which had “I’m Your Captain” on it. We’d built this insane fan base, and the Shea show sold out faster than the Beatles—a record at the time.

Q: Did you feel that momentum in the moment, or only in hindsight?
A: Both. You could feel the energy changing. We’d gone from being the underdogs the critics hated to this unstoppable live act fans adored. Shea was the confirmation.

THE BUSINESS BATTLES — “WE DISCOVERED THE TRUTH THE HARD WAY”

Q: You went through a major management dispute around then.
A: Yes. We found out our manager Terry Knight—and a couple attorneys working with him—had been taking our money. A huge chunk of it. We were young, hungry, and trusting. Bad combination.
Rock and roll isn’t just guitars and drums—it’s contracts, and not always good ones.

Q: That must have changed everything.
A: It forced us to grow up quickly. Suddenly we weren’t just musicians—we were a business fighting to survive.

FM RADIO CHANGES — ADAPTING OR DYING

Q: Around that time, FM radio was shifting too.
A: Oh, absolutely. FM underground radio used to play 7‑minute songs. Long arrangements. Experimental stuff. Then suddenly FM stations wanted tight, radio‑friendly, three‑minute singles. If you didn’t adapt, you disappeared.

Q: And that’s when Todd Rundgren entered the picture.
A: Exactly. We needed a new direction. Todd helped us craft a punchier, hit‑driven sound without losing who we were.

TODD RUNDGREN — “HE CHANGED HOW WE HEARD OURSELVES”

Q: What was working with Todd Rundgren like?
A: Fantastic. Todd recorded things the way he wanted them to sound in the end—effects, EQ, everything—right into the headphones. So while you’re performing, you’re already hearing the final product. That changes how you play. Most engineers kept everything dry until the mix stage. Todd blew that up.

Q: Did that affect your performances?
A: Completely. When you hear the real tone and texture in your headphones, you play differently—more confidently, more musically.

LYNN GOLDSMITH — PHOTOGRAPHY, IMAGE & THE POP SHIFT

Q: Lynn Goldsmith worked with you creatively as well.
A: She did. She added a poppier, more visual approach. Album photography, publicity strategy—she had a strong vision. At the time, FM radio was heading more toward mainstream pop, and what she brought fit that.

ROCK LORE — SWEET CONNIE, THE ROAD & “AMERICAN BAND”

Q: In “We’re an American Band,” you mention Sweet Connie.
A: Sweet Connie—Connie Hamzy—was introduced to us in Little Rock. She was legendary among musicians. I wrote the lyrics from real moments on the road. Connie, the “four young Chiquitas,” Freddie King, all those snapshots became part of the story.

Q: Did you ever meet Pamela Des Barres?
A: Not that I know of.

ZAPPA, SEGER & NEW CREATIVE WORLDS

Q: Frank Zappa produced one of your albums.
A: Yes, Good Singin’, Good Playin’. We’d seen 200 Motels, where he jokingly took a shot at Grand Funk. We thought it was hilarious and said, “Why not get Frank to produce us?” He loved the idea.
Working with him was incredible—funny, smart, sharp as a razor.

Q: And you’ve worked with Bob Seger for decades.
A: I’ve been his touring drummer on and off for forty years. Bob runs a tight ship, and the band is always top‑notch. Playing with him keeps you sharp.

THE FANS — FOUR GENERATIONS STRONG

Q: How has the fan base changed since the ’60s?
A: The same fans—just older and grayer!
But now they bring their kids and grandkids. Seeing four generations sing “Some Kind of Wonderful” or “We’re an American Band” together… that’s something special.

Q: That must be surreal.
A: It is. That’s when it hits you—you’ve become part of people’s lives.

DRUMS, TECHNOLOGY & THE MODERN STAGE

Q: How has drum technology changed for you?
A: The drums themselves? Not by much. They’re still acoustic instruments. But drumheads, sticks, hardware—they’re better than ever.
The real leap is the technology around the music: soundboards, PA systems, lighting, amplification. I wish we had today’s gear back in the 70s.

Q: Do you think musicians rely too heavily on tech today?
A: Sometimes, yeah. Technology is great, but it can overshadow the basics. A great song and a great performance—that’s what matters.

Q: Your drum heroes?
A: Mitch Mitchell, Ginger Baker, Dino Danelli… and older legends like Louie Bellson and Buddy Rich. Those guys were powerhouses.

OFF THE STAGE — LIFE, CARS & RADIO

Q: What’s on your phone musically?
A: I don’t listen to much music on my phone. Mostly talk radio. Satellite stations tend to repeat the same playlist over and over.

Q: First big purchase after your first gold record?
A: A 1974 Midnight Blue Thunderbird. Gorgeous car.

Q: When did you start playing drums?
A: Around 13 or 14. I hated clarinet, the band needed someone in the drum section, the drumline had girls in it, and my dad—who was a drummer—taught me. Easy decision.

THE ROAD TODAY — STILL ROLLING

Q: Your 2018 tour kicked off recently.
A: Yep, two shows so far. One in Delaware, another sold‑out show near Cleveland.
We stay busy. Grand Funk never really stopped touring.

Q: Favorite city from the early days?
A: I loved New York in the ’60s and ’70s. Now? Sedona, Arizona. Great energy, breathtaking scenery.

CLOSING THOUGHTS — “WE’RE STILL HAVING THE TIME OF OUR LIVES.”

Q: Any final message for fans?
A: This lineup has been together since 2000—18 years, which is rare. The last two years have been our best in decades.
We’re excited for another great year.
We’re coming to your town—come out and see us.

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By Rob McCune

An 8-piece funk rock band of Egyptian mummies is on a tour of concert halls in middle America, and if you’re unfamiliar with them, I promise you do not know what you’re in for at one of their shows.

Bringing, to borrow the voice of Vincent Price, “the funk of 40,000 years and grizzly ghouls from every tomb,” the Mummies have a groove that’s hard to beat. And pity “whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down.”

Some bands need a gimmick. The Mummies have a hell of one, but as skilled musicians don’t need it. The octet plays guitar, bass, drums, keys, bari and tenor sax, tambourine, trumpet, and more. At some point on the stage there might be six saxophones – including one in each hand of two of the Mummies, being played simultaneously.

And damn, do they jam.

Seemingly every Mummy also has a singing voice that variously makes one wonder if they aren’t in fact the reanimated corpses of great American funk and soul singers like Sam Cooke and James Brown.

That’s one great thing about the Mummy gimmick: anonymity. We don’t really know who’s under all that wrapping. The band members have names like Mummy Cass, Eddie Mummy, K.W. TuT, Spaz, Fingerbang, Dr. Yo, Highlander, H-POD.

Midnight Mummy is the Flavor Flav of the group, eventually wearing a tall fur cap – like those worn by British soldiers standing guard outside Westminster Palace, but with a comically large eyeball in the center of it – and white-frame sunglasses as he raps and jives across the stage.

The show starts with a drum line down the center aisle, a procession led by two Anubi – plural for the ancient Egyptian god with the heads of jackals – and a storm of streamers.

And then, just as you feel like maybe that’s plenty to be surprised over, you start to pay attention to the songs and the lyrics, which feature the flavor of dirty puns and innuendo – and blatantly sexual themes – that men in their 40s now might have found on records hidden in the back of their dad’s closet and stayed up late to sneak a snickering listen.

The set list for this show at The Kent Stage in Kent, Ohio, featured songs with seemingly innocuous titles like “Pants,” but lyrics like “I’m coming in my pants, my shirt, it’s my best suit baby … I’m so excited, I hope that I don’t come too soon.” Yea, you know what they’re talking about. And as if they needed to drive the point home, the song ends with a cannon blast of white streamers into the audience.

You start to see the nice, older couples (who you might’ve spoken with before the show) in a different, shadier light. They’re wearing the merch. Some are really decked out, wearing Egyptian headdresses. They dance in the aisles and squeal in delight at the performance. And you wonder how many of them attended those swinging “key parties” in the Sixties (and maybe still do), and how many have spent some time in nudist camps.

But if you don’t get carried away by such thoughts, and instead let the funk take over, you might find yourself mummified by the night’s end. “And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver, for no mere mortal can resist …”

Here Come the Mummies have booked tour stops through Illinois, Nebraska, Virginia, West Virginia, Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania, and even parts of Canada through late October.

Follow Rob McCune on Instagram (@Every_Thing_After_Photo) and listen to the “Every.Thing.After Podcast” on Spotify

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By Rob McCune

A significant force in the alt-rock/grunge wave of the early-1990s, Soul Asylum was on a “Runaway Train” (to coin the band’s biggest hit) to stardom. Now, nearly 40 years since the band formed (or changed its name from Loud Fast Rules) in 1983, that train seems nowhere near derailing.

The crew has shifted over the years, but still driving the train is frontman Dave Pirner, who has stoked the coals and refined the Soul Asylum sound over 13 albums, including five records before the band’s breakout 1992 “Grave Dancers Union,” and seven since.

Their latest is 2024’s “Slowly but Shirley;” before that was 2020’s “Hurry Up and Wait” – two titles that echo the dichotomy of fast, ripping guitar anthems and slow, soulful sonnets that represent the ranging appeal of this enduring asylum.

On an “Acoustic Tour” that kicked off this spring in middle America, Soul Asylum left only their drummer, Michael Bland, behind. Pirner is joined on stage by Ryan Smith on lead guitar and Jeremy Tappero on bass.

And despite valid assumptions about what an “acoustic” show is, nothing is unplugged here, and the guys certainly aren’t sitting down or holding back.

Opener Corey Glover, lead singer of the funk rock group Living Colour, delivered what might be expected from acoustic set with Michael Ciro on an unplugged guitar and a couple of chairs and mics center stage. But nothing was typical about their performance. Ciro’s masterful guitar riffs and Glover’s powerfully soulful voice ignited the audience on tracks including covers of Bill Withers’ “Use Me” and fully unique renditions of Beatle George Harrison’s “Here Comes the Sun” and Prince’s “The Cross.”

Soul Asylum’s set at The Kent Stage in Kent, Ohio, featured tracks from seven albums, dominated by “Grave Dancers,” and a couple of covers. The trio came out rocking on “Somebody to Shove,” and slowed things down a bit on bittersweet harmonics like “To My Own Devices.” Crowd-pleasers “Misery” (about halfway through the set) and “Runaway Train” (saved for the encore) got the crowd on its feet, too.

A couple of times, including during Glover’s set, the artists referenced and paid tribute to protesters in Minnesota, where Soul Asylum is from.

Pirner brought the tragic killing of two protesters by ICE agents home with a cover of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s “Ohio,” a song about Kent State University student protesters being shot in 1970, just down the road from the venue. He also made it personal, talking about the First Avenue nightclub frequented by Soul Asylum that (though now closed) is a block away from where Minnesotan Alex Pretti was killed. “Stand Up and Be Strong,” a song off of the band’s 2006 record “The Silver Lining,” was played in tribute to Pretti and Renee Good, also shot and killed this year in Minneapolis.

Lifting the mood, Pirner practiced his on-stage banter, which he says hasn’t been a strong suit, with jokes like (paraphrasing here): “I met a drug dealer outside the theater earlier. He sold me a pair of shoes. … I’m not sure what he laced them with, but I’ve been tripping all day.”
For “Get On Out,” the last encore, Soul Asylum’s three amigos swung and slung their respective axes and finished with a synchronized strum.

It was a finish that bears a message for fans who still have a chance to experience this tour: “Get On Out.”

Follow Rob McCune on Instagram (@Every_Thing_After_Photo) and listen to the “Every.Thing.After Podcast” on Spotify.

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aPRIL 17, 2026

Ron Robinson Theater

Little Rok, AR

by Dan Locke

There are concerts that feel like time capsules, and then there are concerts that feel like someone cracked open the time capsule, pulled out the artifacts, and invited you to sit on the floor and touch them. Tiffany’s performance at the Ron Robinson Theater in Little Rock was the latter — a night built not on spectacle, but on memory, intimacy, and the kind of storytelling that only comes from an artist who has lived long enough to understand her own mythology.

The Ron Robinson Theater is a venue that rewards closeness. It’s a space where the audience sits near enough to see the details — the way a performer grips a microphone, the way stage lights catch the edges of a denim jacket, the way a singer’s expression shifts when a lyric hits a nerve. On this night, the theater became something even more intimate: a reimagined ’80s teen bedroom, a playful and nostalgic environment that framed the entire evening as a return to origins.

A Stage Built Like a Memory

The stage design was whimsical without being childish, nostalgic without being frozen in time. Fuzzy pink cubes, a checkered rug, soft neon lighting, and props that looked like they’d been pulled from a suburban teenager’s sanctuary in 1987 created a visual language that immediately set the tone. It wasn’t a museum exhibit of the ’80s — it was a lived‑in, emotionally resonant recreation of the spaces where young people once dreamed, danced, and discovered themselves.

For Tiffany, who famously launched her career as a teenager, the staging felt autobiographical. It was as if she had invited the audience into the room where she first rehearsed, first imagined a future in music, first felt the spark of possibility. The set design wasn’t just aesthetic; it was narrative.

A Minimal Band, a Full Sound

Tiffany performed with just two musicians onstage: a guitarist and a keyboard player. But the sound was far from minimal. Throughout the show, the trio performed over backing tracks that filled out the rest of the band — a second guitar line, bass, and drums. The result was a hybrid musical texture that preserved the intimacy of a small ensemble while still honoring the full, polished energy of her original recordings.

This approach allowed Tiffany’s voice to take center stage. Her vocals — richer, deeper, and more textured than in her teen‑idol years — carried the emotional weight of someone who has lived through the highs and lows of fame. The backing tracks added fullness without overwhelming the intimacy of the performance, creating a soundscape that felt both nostalgic and contemporary.

A Screen of Stories

Behind the performers, a large screen played a rotating mix of visuals: classic music videos, archival footage, and animated slides that looked like retro PowerPoint presentations brought to life. These visuals were charmingly simple, almost handmade in spirit, reinforcing the “teen bedroom” aesthetic. They served as memory cues, guiding the audience through Tiffany’s narrative as she moved between songs and stories.

When the screen lit up with the original “I Think We’re Alone Now” video — grainy, sun‑washed, unmistakably ’80s — the audience reacted with a mix of recognition and affection. It was a reminder of how deeply Tiffany’s music is woven into the cultural fabric of the era.

The Heart of the Night: Tiffany’s Stories

What set this performance apart was Tiffany’s willingness to tell her story — not the polished, PR‑approved version, but the real one. She spoke openly, humorously, and often with surprising vulnerability about her early career.

One of the most compelling segments came when she discussed the making of her first LP. She described the photo shoot for the album cover with a mix of nostalgia and amusement — the awkwardness of posing, the excitement of being a teenager suddenly thrust into the machinery of pop stardom, and the surreal feeling of seeing her own face plastered across record stores.

But the most revealing moment came when she talked about “Danny,” the song that was actually her first single. Most people assume her debut was “I Think We’re Alone Now,” but Tiffany made a point of setting the record straight. “Danny” was released with high hopes, only to fall flat commercially. The disappointment was real, and the consequences were nearly career‑ending. The record label, unimpressed by the single’s performance, was ready to drop her.

What saved her career was a single request from her manager: one more chance. One more song. One more opportunity to prove she had something worth investing in. That song, of course, was “I Think We’re Alone Now.”

Hearing Tiffany recount this turning point — not as a legend, but as a memory — gave the familiar hit a new emotional weight. She described the uncertainty surrounding it, the pressure she felt, and the sense that everything was riding on this one track. When she finally performed the song later in the evening, the audience wasn’t just hearing a nostalgic anthem; they were hearing the song that kept her career alive.

The Video Shoot That Became a Legend

Her story about filming the original music video was one of the night’s most charming and humorous moments. Tiffany explained that she had asked if her real friends could appear in the video with her. The label agreed, and her friends’ parents dutifully drove them an hour to the beach for the shoot. But when they arrived, they discovered that the director had already hired actors to play her friends — “extras,” as he called them.

Her real friends were understandably upset, and Tiffany told the story with the kind of affectionate exasperation that only comes from decades of retelling. Years later, she made it up to them. She re‑recorded the song and shot a new video — this time with her actual friends, no casting call required. They did it for drinks and food, she joked, and the audience laughed with her.

A Voice That Has Grown With Her

Musically, the show balanced nostalgia with reinvention. Tiffany performed the hits, of course, but she also showcased newer material that reflects her evolution as an artist. Her voice has matured into something deeper and more textured, and the stripped‑down arrangements highlighted that growth. Songs that were once pure pop now carried hints of rock, blues, and singer‑songwriter introspection.

A Cookbook, a New Creative Chapter, and a Look Ahead

As the evening moved into its final stretch, Tiffany shifted from looking back to looking forward. She spoke enthusiastically about her newest project: “POP LIFE: The Ultimate 80s Kitchen Encore,” her first traditionally published cookbook, co‑created with chef and author Alicia Shevetone. Inspired by life on tour, ’80s nostalgia, and global flavors, the book blends music, storytelling, and elevated comfort food — a natural extension of Tiffany’s personality and her desire to connect with fans beyond the stage.

She also shared a glimpse of what’s next musically: a reimagined Greatest Hits album, currently in production and slated for release in 2027. The project revisits classics like “I Think We’re Alone Now” and “Could’ve Been,” but through the lens of who she is today — with a rock‑driven sound shaped by decades of growth as both an artist and a storyteller.

A Room Full of People, a Shared Moment in Time

The audience — a mix of longtime fans, curious newcomers, and people who grew up with her music — responded with warmth and enthusiasm. Phones were raised, but not in a way that felt intrusive. People wanted to capture the moment, but they were also fully present in it. The energy in the room was communal, almost familial.

A Legacy Still Being Written

In a world where nostalgia acts often rely on spectacle or irony, Tiffany offered something far more genuine. She gave Little Rock an evening of storytelling, vulnerability, humor, and heart — a reminder that pop icons aren’t just images frozen in time. They grow up. They change. They survive. And sometimes, they return to the stage with nothing but two musicians, a handful of backing tracks, a screen full of memories, and a lifetime of stories worth telling.

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Life’s Rich Pageant Tour

Opener: Bobcat Goldthwait

By Rob McCune

Michael Shannon doesn’t look like Michael Stipe.

For one thing, Shannon – the actor known for playing the parts of imposing men who seemingly could level a city block with a hard stare and crater the Earth with an outburst – is six inches taller than the former REM frontman.

Still, at 6-foot-3, when the music takes him, Shannon moves like Stipe, and with Jason Narducy & Friends (Dag Juhlin, John Stirratt, Vijay Tellis-Nayak and Jon Wurster) backing him up, it can be easy to forget you’re not at an REM show.

Having previously toured to play in full REM’s “Murmur” and “Fables of the Reconstruction” albums in their 40th years, Shannon, Narducy & Friends hit the road to throw a similar birthday party for the 1986 album “Life’s Rich Pageant.”

The spectacle toured for 22 shows this year, starting in Denver in mid-February and ending in Bloomington, Indiana, in mid-March. The crowd at Brooklyn’s The Bowery got a special treat with a surprise appearance by Stipe, who sang two songs – “These Days” (“Life’s Rich Pageant”) and “The Great Beyond” (“Man on the Moon” soundtrack).

The tour was also enlivened by the presence of comedian and filmmaker Bobcat Goldthwait, who performed a 30-minute standup routine that left more people in stitches than an entire season of “The Pitt.”

At the Cleveland stop, March 10 at Globe Iron, the band played for two hours, playing two sets and 30 REM songs.

The first 12-song set covered “Life’s Rich Pageant” in full, in tracklist order – including “Cuyahoga,” a song about Cleveland’s Cuyahoga River, just steps from the venue. Shannon, Narducy & Friends left the stage for a few minutes – bathroom breaks, and in Shannon’s words, to give the album its own moment.

The next 12-song set covered a variety of REM hits and B-sides, from “Lotus” to “Burning Down.” Still not done, the show featured a six-song encore, starting with a stripped-down “Nightswimming,” and ending with “Radio Free Europe” and “Star 69.”

Following the 40th anniversary trend, next up for the band will be REM’s 1987 album “Document,” which includes such iconic tracks as “The One I Love” and “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine).”

Follow Rob McCune on Instagram (@Every_Thing_After_Photo) and listen to the “Every.Thing.After Podcast” on Spotify.

In Canton, a small city in west-central Illinois, roughly 30 miles southwest of Peoria, a new uptown space is generating buzz and excitement across the community. A new and exciting live music series has been announced that promises a summer of high-energy performances and crowd-favorite hits, with nationally touring tribute acts bringing familiar songs to life in a live, open-air setting. The events will take place at the new Canton Opera House Plaza, built on a site affected by a 2016 natural gas explosion, the Plaza represents a brand new era for Canton’s downtown.

Sponsored by the Canton History & Arts Alliance, the live music series will bring performances to the plaza as part of a wider effort to reactivate the downtown district and create shared experiences for the community and surrounding areas. Designed with broad appeal in mind, the series leans into crowd favorites and recognizable hits, creating an atmosphere where audiences can jump in immediately. It’s a format built on nationally recognized tribute artists, with each show offering a new take on familiar music, including the likes of Almost Taylor, a Taylor Swift Tribute, The Ultimate Garth Brooks Tribute, JUMP, America’s Van Halen Experience, and more. Admission is FREE and it is open to all-ages. As far as food/beverages, there will be some amazing food truck options that will be announced very soon.

“Canton has long flew under the radar as a community with a lot to offer for a town of its size,” said Alliance member and Alderman, John Lovell. “When the Plaza was built, the intention was to help reinvigorate and revitalize the downtown and now that we have it, providing quality entertainment to the community is another step in making Canton a destination for those wanting to enjoy live music along with all of our other offerings.” It is clear that this space is something that will bring people together, not just from Canton, but from surrounding communities as well.

Organizers also describe the series as intentionally accessible and community-driven, with an emphasis on fostering a relaxed, welcoming environment. Attendees can expect open-air performances in a setting designed to encourage connection, where families gather, local businesses benefit from increased foot traffic, and visitors are introduced to a revitalized uptown Canton.

Beyond entertainment, the initiative reflects a broader strategy shared by many small American cities: investing in cultural programming as a way to strengthen local identity, economic activity, and a strengthened sense of community…all while jamming out to your favorite music.

For Canton, the Opera House Plaza is more than a new venue, it is a statement about the city’s future.

Event details and updates are available through the organizers’ official event page (linked below).

Canton History & Art Alliance – Live at the Plaza – OfficialFacebookPage

The Celestia Theater

Wadsworth OH

Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026

By Rob McCune

About halfway in to a set at The Celestia Theater, about 40 miles south of Cleveland, The Verve Pipe’s Brian Vander Ark exorcised “the ghost of a 1950s principal” from the former high school auditorium, urging the properly seated crowd to thumb their noses at the aura of authority, get on their feet and rush the stage.

The Verve Pipe then tore the figurative roof off the place.

Vander Ark, who with his brother Brad founded the band in 1992, professed that he was “having the time of his life in Wadsworth, Ohio,” and it was evident in the show that these alt-rock veterans put on.

Van Arlo, an Ohio-based band led by Ben Marthey, warmed up the crowd on a frigid January night, supported by a full band, including a four-piece string orchestra that added an ethereal ambience, especially on a cover of The Smashing Pumpkins’ “Tonight.” The opener closed with some crowd participation on an original, “Slow It Down.”

With 10 albums, including a “Reconciled,” released in 2025, and two children’s albums, two EPs and a trio of compilations, The Verve Pipe could have easily packed a 90-minute set on their own. Instead, the band played for nearly two hours, cut Samurai-like with several surprising snippets.

Starting with “Ark of the Envious,” off the band’s “I’ve Suffered a Head Injury” EP that dropped in 1992, and then “Photograph,” off their breakout ’96 album “Villains,” the set weaved wondrously through 30 years of Verve, deftly withholding the biggest hits for later while keeping the crowd on their toes.

Vander Ark early on played with a couple of verses of Kansas’s “Dust in the Wind,” reminiscing about the music he grew up with. A little later, as his band abandoned the stage briefly, he stood solo in blue spotlight and played a riff that rang familiar with the audience, teasing: “You know this one?” Wielding his guitar like a lighting bolt, he roused Mount Olympus itself with a stirring rendition of Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” that would’ve made Chris Cornell proud.

As the crowd rallied around the stage, The Verve Pipe rocked out on “Villains,” the title track off the ’96 record and “Tattoo,” a favorite track off of the new album that is likely to imprint on both faithful and new fans.

Face-melting solos center-stage by guitarist Lou Musa, who joined the band in 2008, and the thunderous assault of original drummer Daine Hammerle punctuated a performance unprecedented for this old-made-new venue.

Meanwhile, the band’s newest member Channing Lee, joining in 2014, was sensational on backing vocals, keys, tambourine, her own solo – an echo-pedal-powered acapella on “Bridges Are Burning” – and in a penultimate take-no-prisoners mashup of “Happiness Is,” and Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know.”

The night ended with a 20-minute, full-out jam on Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain,” that left hearts pumping and feet stomping, proving that The Verve Pipe has never lost its verve.

Rob McCune is Every_Thing_After_Photo on Instagram, where he shares his concert photography and reviews, as well as clips from his “Every.Thing.After” podcast, with interviews with musicians and bands.

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By Rob McCune

For a sit-down show at Cleveland’s The Agora, Swedish indie folk singer-songwriter José González appeared solo on a raised platform against a backdrop of trees silhouetted against a night sky and seemingly lit himself by moonlight.

With just his guitar and soft, sonorous, sometimes haunting vocal, he harmonized on hymns about love, memory, nature, unity, and conflict to a crows that was locked in and loving it.

His set evenly blended tracks from his four albums, and a five-song encore included covers of “Blackbird” (The Beatles), “Heartbeats” (The Knife) and “Teardrop” (Massive Attack).

Particularly resonating was “Line of Fire,” a song released by his band Junip, for which he collaborates with Tobias Winterkorn. The soothing but existential anthem to internal struggle posits a future of unknowable possibility, where each choice might lead to fight or flight, light or darkness.

It’s music on a precipice, like the one we all are on, and it feels vital as ever.

Rob McCune is Every_Thing_After_Photo on Instagram, where he shares his concert photography and reviews, as well as clips from his “Every.Thing.After” podcast, with interviews with musicians and bands.

Lisa Loeb

Music is Art

Buffalo NY

June 06, 2010

by Dan Locke

Buffalo’s Music is Art Festival has always been a beautiful riot — part industrial carnival, part civic ritual, part all‑ages fever dream stitched together with skate ramps, brass bands, and the hum of RiverWorks machinery. Dropping Lisa Loeb into that swirl felt like a cultural experiment: could the queen of ’90s introspective pop cut through a festival that thrives on glorious chaos?

She didn’t just cut through it — she sliced the day clean in half.

Loeb walked onstage with the kind of quiet authority that doesn’t need hype or theatrics. No smoke, no bombast — just her guitar, her voice, and that unmistakable melodic precision that made “Stay” a generational imprint. In a festival built on volume, she became the rare artist who could hush a crowd by simply breathing into the mic.

But Buffalo refused to behave. Kids with melting snow cones wandered through the crowd. A rogue brass ensemble from another stage tried to photobomb her sound. A skateboarder wiped out mid‑verse with the kind of slapstick timing tabloids dream about. Loeb didn’t flinch. She tossed off a dry one‑liner, smirked like she’d been booked to headline a circus, and kept playing — turning the festival’s noise into her own backing track.

That’s where the hybrid tone comes alive: Rolling Stone would call it mastery. The Post would call it a showdown she won without breaking a sweat.

Her setlist moved like a curated memoir — radio staples, deep‑cut gems, and newer material that revealed a songwriter who’s evolved without losing her emotional clarity. The real peak wasn’t “Stay.” It was the quieter, newer songs where she talked about writing, parenting, and the strange endurance of sincerity in a world addicted to spectacle. When she finally did hit “Stay,” the crowd didn’t erupt; they softened. It was less a sing‑along than a communal remembering.

Music is Art is built on access, plurality, and creative collision — punk bands, school choirs, EDM kids, singer‑songwriters, all sharing the same oxygen. Loeb didn’t dominate the space; she harmonized with it. She proved that intimacy can be louder than distortion, and that a well‑aimed lyric can outshine a wall of amps. And I would like to thank Robbie Takac for having me there.

In a day full of noise, she wasn’t the loudest thing. She was the clearest

Lisa Loeb: Website | Facebook | YouTube | TikTok | Instagram | X |

There’s something unmistakenly timeless about the sound of 10,000 Maniacs, a band that has been making music and touring on and off, in various permutations, for more than 40 years.

On their latest tour, founding members Dennis Drew (on keys) and Steve Gustafson and John Lombardo (both on guitar) back up Mary Ramsay, the Maniacs’ queen bee and vocalist since the departure of Natalie Merchant in 1994.

The Maniac sound made signature in the late ’80s and early ’90s—the jangle of the guitars and the lyrical lilting—remains, but enhanced by experience, is also eminently current, classically contemporary.

In large part, this resonance emanates from center stage, where the light converges on Ramsay, shimmying and shimmering in a pair of cat-eye sunglasses with a charm both vintage and vibrant, as well as ageless.

When Ramsey, a classically trained violinist since age 5, soothingly saws the strings of her ZETA Strados Modern 5-string violin, it combines with the instrumental chorus to create a sound that feels like it could serenade the aurora borealis.

Fitting since this band was founded in Jamestown, New York, a place which offers an above-average chance of viewing the Northern Lights.

During a tour stop in northeast Ohio, at The Kent Stage in college town Kent, the atmospheric, otherworldly sound of 10,000 Maniacs occupied two sets and a three-song encore. The performance blended the best bits of five out of nine studio albums with a thoughtful medley of melodically matched cover songs, including Patti Smith’s “Because the Night,” Roxy Music’s “More Than This,” The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” and a version of “Peace Train” by Cat Stevens that marked the group’s first mainstream success.

The hits of the band’s heyday from 1987 to 1992 dominated the setlist, with six selections from “In My Tribe,” an album featuring chart-topping singles “Like the Weather,” “What’s the Matter Here?” and “Don’t Talk,” along with the no-less-poetic “Hey Jack Kerouac,” “City of Angels” and “My Sister Rose.”

The evening ended with a rousing rendition of arguably the most distinctly Maniac melody, “These Are Days,” which aptly summarized the experience:

“These are days you’ll remember. … It’s true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.”

Rob McCune is Every_Thing_After_Photo on Instagram, where he shares his concert photography and reviews, as well as clips from his “Every.Thing.After” podcast, with interviews with musicians and bands.

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