NIRVANA

With the eerily realistic resurrection of Tupac via hologram at Coachella this past weekend, we couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to see more of our favorite lost legends come back to life. What we'd pay to see them in the flesh (kinda) once more! This is an open letter to the Hologram Gods, here's a list of icons you need to get to work on next. Chop chop.

10. Kurt Cobain/Nirvana

Ah, Courtney Love. The mere mention of the shameless rocker's name alone constitutes an automatic shaking of the head. Or at least it does for me. And yet, she is just so deliciously entertaining to watch...

What is the Hole frontwoman talking about now?

This time, actually, she talks to Vanity Fair about her late husband - Kurt Cobain of grunge band Nirvana. His apparent "suicide" in 1994 has affected not only rock fans everywhere, but the entire music industry as well. Their most popular album, Nevermind (1991), has become a cultural icon. Left behind are his wife and their now 19-year-old daughter Frances Bean Cobain.

What started with Milli Vanilli has mouthed its way to Steve Angello.

Yes, we are talking about the great art of lip-synching.

But the little monger can't even be called finger-ing (...?), as Steve Angello makes no attempts to hide his utter disinterest behind the decks. (But hey, when the crowd is barricaded nearly 15 feet away behind a haze of smoke and stupor, what's the need for animated antics?) Steve smokes a cigarette, twist five knobs and half-heartedly pumps his palms in the air to pal Axwell's arguably awesome remix of Temper Trap's Sweet Disposition. After that, he turns his back to the crowd as he slicks his ponytail and tosses a drink, for his assistant to pick up. Cocky artist or tired professional?

A book written by Nick Strauss called Everybody Loves You When You’re Dead has revealed that the Hole singer wanted to snort her lover Kurt Cobain's ashes.

The author of the book, Strauss, claims that she tried to get him to inhale the ashes of Nirvana's leader.

He told RadarOnline: “She actually said she would offer his ashes to me first to snort and then said she would like them."

"Too bad you don't do coke," Love said, according to Strauss. "Otherwise I'd suggest taking a metal straw to it."

The ashes finally remained unsnorted...

Recently, Rolling Stone magazine released a top 10 list for the best albums of the 90's. What made the list special was that the readers of Rolling Stone were the ones deciding who made the cut.

The 90's is and will forever be known as the grunge-era, spawning popular bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Radiohead, Alice in Chains, and more. It was a drastically different era of music, and one that, essentially, changed the way we view music today.

The albums that were released during the time are still some of the most popular and best selling.

"They don't want me chilling on the couch with my phoenix !!!" Kanye's been recently tweeting his last album cover, complaining it had been banned in the USA. The Mc is just about to finish his Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and already creates a scandal. That is what I call free advertising.

What does the art cover look like ? We have here a black male with a quite scary smile discovering the pleasures of pilates with a white chick he calls his "phoenix". And he is probably not drinking tea.

The Bad Plus, a revolutionary trio in the world of modern jazz, played their second show in the United States since the start of their fall tour, and the first show since the September 14th release of their new album Never Stop.

Embracing diversity as their strong point, and although Never Stop consists entirely of original tracks, Bad Plus has gained critical acclaim from their renditions of well-known rock songs just as Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

With a jaw-dropping, incredibly in-sync stage presence, the band wow-ed the Lower East Side crowd at the Bowery Ballroom this past weekend, following their solo opener Sam Newsome, whose flawless circular breathing techniques and slow, modest conversations with the crowd made him just as impressive as the feature act.

She’s got you dancing in the club and in your car, singing the hook on “Bass Down Low” and “Like A G6” with The Cataracs and The Far East Movement. She’s since recorded a music video for her latest single, “Booty Bounce.” There’s no denying that this little girl is leaving a big impression.

You’ve been described as a small town girl with a big city attitude; what’s the road been like from the small town to the big city?

It’s been fun. It’s been crazy, but it’s been fun. I’m doing what I love! I came from a really small town and now I am in LA recording music. It’s so crazy, you can imagine.

Describe your “Aha!” moment. When did you know that music was what you wanted to pursue?

I’ve always loved music but I think my first one of those was the first time I performed. I opened up for The Pack at The Knitting Factory in LA. It was my first time doing my set, I was absolutely terrified. Then I thought to myself, “I’m about to shit on everybody!” I went out and did it, and I’ve tried to keep that mentality since. After coming to LA, I was just like, “I need to do more of this. I need to step it up.” Performing is my favorite thing in the world.

Outside of music, where do you draw inspiration?

A lot of different things! I’m inspired by the sounds of the city, fashion, different people, situations in my life. The city inspires me. Right now, my music is fun, but as I grow, my music will too. I’ve been through a lot of different situations and stages in my life, which has made me indecisive and sporadic. I’ll wake up tomorrow wanting to do one thing and I’ll want a different sound on another day. I like mixing it up! I just want to be heard throughout the entire world; that would be cool.

You’ve said visuals are important to you. How do you incorporate this into your craft?

The fashion aspect has been really important to me. I can’t really bring it out in the studio or when I’m writing, but I love to play around with it when I can. My videos for “Fireball” and “Booty Bounce” have given me that opportunity. Hellz Bellz hooks it up too, they’re my homies.

You have a fierce image. Have you always been this fierce or did you create your image over time?

I’ve been through so many different stages growing up and I feel like now it’s all kind of come together. I don’t think about it as much, but I know I am a lot more comfortable with who I am now. I also have more opportunity to play around with my image now, and have fun with it, whereas before I was in LA my friends would be like, “There’s Dev again in her crazy shit!”

Growing up who were your favorite artists? Who are you listening to now?

I know I keep saying this but I went through a lot of different stages. I went from grunge to indie-rock to hip-hop to rap. I loved Nirvana, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Eminem. Right now I listen to The Cataracs a lot, because we all live together! I also have Crystal Castles in my car right now; they are really good.

You’re the girl that gets the party started. What’s a night out like with Dev?

Oh Gosh! Shit! A night out with me—brace yourself! Bring water because you’ll need to stay hydrated. I live with The Cataracs and we are always getting into random shit. Alcohol is always involved! Poppin bottles—we have fun.

Who would you really like to get in the studio with?

Nicki Minaj. There’s a lot of female artists out right now who are kind of on the whole, pop-rap thing you know? But she’s stunning on all of them. I’d love to work with her; I think we could do something really cool together.

What has you experience been like as a female in this business?

Being a female is tough in this industry. There’s a lot of men. The first thing people want to do is be like, “Oh, she didn’t think of that herself.” But I did. Also, there’s a lot of pressure, like “Show ass!” “Show boobs!”, but I’m not trying to sell sex. That’s not me. I’m trying to hold it down for the girls—I can roll with the boys and keep it sexy without all that.

Three things you can absolutely not live without. Ready, go.

Aw fuck! One, my cell phone. Two, chocolate. Three, my family—my sisters hold me down. They keep me in the place. I’ll talk to them and they’ll be like, “Dev, you ain’t shit!”

What advice would you give to other aspiring female songwriters/musicians?

It’s hard to not be influenced by the male in this industry. Stay true to yourself. You can’t let one thing knock you down. You can’t give up. You’ve got to keep hustin’, keep grindin’. Eventually, the grindin’ will pay off. That goes for all females, whatever you do, just be the baddest bitch you can be at it. Remember that keeping you first is important.

What can we expect next from you?

Well, I’m in the process of recording and doing as many shows as possible. I’m constantly writing and in the studio. Tours and new music, watch out!

Welcome to another Favorite Tune Fridays to savor and absorb for the rest of the upcoming week! We have lots to cover, like...a brief history lesson in England's royal family (mistresses INCLUDED!), fighting hate with Michael Jackson and a super secret, too-much-for-you-to-handle read-aloud from my diary! Who's with me? HAPPY FRIDAY! Back story: I had absolutely no idea who The Knife were until my freshman year of college. Upon buying this hot-damn cute pink dress from the Charlotte Ronson boutique here on Mulberry Street (the dress that I have since handed over to my good friend from high school because it looks way better on her. So nice, right?), I was given a "mix tape" CD created by Samantha Ronson as a get-with-purchase treat from the store. Though I never wore the dress more than once, the songs on the CD have gotten so much play over the past few years that it has absolutely been worth the buy. In addition to being introduced to artists like The Pointer Sisters, Ringside and Main Source - that I had never heard before the CD - The Knife were not only a new sound to my ears, but an increasingly addictive one (heed the artist links! they are youtube vids to the songs). The song "Heartbeats" featured these crazy-obscure vocals grinding up against this dance-y electro/synthpop sound, with infatuation-dizzy lyrics like: "you knew the hand of the a devil, and you kept us awake with wolves teeth, sharing different heartbeats in one night." It was great, it had movement and the words - something that usually draws me before beat - kept me interested and curious to what else The Knife had to offer. And so I went scavenging for anything Knife-related. Back when imeem.com was actually imeem.com and not the Myspace take-over that it is today, you could log on, type in a song or a band name, hit the "auto-tune" option and be treated to non-stop music by that artist or by similar artists. So I typed in "The Knife" and a bunch of their songs streamed, keeping me pleased for hours. While at times their lyrics got lost over overly-dense sounds, a majority of their music I was deeply digging. But "digging" was an understatement when "Marble House" came on. The song starts out with a minute and twenty seconds of heavenly, instrumental foreplay that builds up, in a very contagiously sexy way, to Karin Dreijer Andersson's extraordinary voice, which is haunting and ethereal all on its very own, but that reeled me in extra upon listening. If the steady pulsing of the synthesizers don't lure you in, the lyrics will. Rich in some sort of apparent impassioned struggle with the forbidden - be it of love, attraction, power, class or oppression, we don't know for sure - the words give weight to the intensity of the sound. But the lyrics have certainly been up for interpretation. At some Knife concerts, it's been said that images of the Marble Hill House were displayed on a screen while they performed this song, leading people to believe that the song was written about George II, Prince of Wales and his relationship to his mistress, Henrietta Howard, who was also his wife's (Princess Caroline) Woman of the Bedchamber. Fans of The Knife speculate that the song's references to a sort of forbidden love behind marble walls reflects Henrietta's confliction in being someone's servant, while also experiencing these jarring moments of intimacy with them that are only cheapened by her roll in the household as a mistress and maid, therefore leading to confusion - and my favorite part of the song - "I raise my hands to heaven of curiosity. I don't know what to ask for, what has it got for me?" In short, it's a beautiful tale of the fragility and vulnerability in censored love, hindered feelings and it all taking place inside a cold, impenetrable marble house. As much as I've listened to this song all throughout college thus far (including those three or four days it was on non-stop repeat, probably instigating buckets of stabby feelings from my neighbor), I can honestly say it's one of the few songs that I will probably never get sick of. So give it a listen or two (or eight). I decided to not embed the official music video version, since a bunch of the beginning is cut out. The full five minute plus version is above, along with lyrics so you all can do your own analyzing. It's remarkable in sound and depth, vocals and music, and play and replay. Michael Jackson - They Don't Care About Us And now to completely change the pace, I picked this unapologetically fierce and raw song by Michael Jackson. I'm not going to go into a big ol' spiel about how I was raised on Michael Jackson, how he's my favorite artist, this and that, blah and blah because, whatever, that's not my story. Yeah, we all have been hyper-aware of Michael Jackson since forever, but my love affair with the music didn't start until my older sister (of course) bought his HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I album. She listened to it maybe once or twice, in full, and then it was retired back to her extensive collection of other artists on her CD rack. But, being the insolent, bratty little sister that I was (am? huh, what?), I wanted more, more, more! "Tara!" I would bug, "Tara! Put "Scream" on again. Tara! I want to listen to "Stranger in Moscow" ! Pleeeeeease?" Nag. Nag. Nag. Eventually she just handed me the CDs, kicked me out of her room and let me roam free around the house, clothed in Older Sister Trust, with her Michael Jackson CD to listen to as I pleased. Win, motherfriggin win I retreated to the basement with my boom box, slid the second of the two CDs into the player and went straight for the ones I knew I liked - "They Don't Care About Us" being one of them. I learned all the words, (embarrassing confession up ahead!) and even made up a dance or two to it (I was like eleven, give me a damn break) and fantasized about being on stage with Michael, singing and dancing the night away. It was GLOR.I.OUS. Though I liked the song immensely because it had this great rack clack, rack clack drum beat (that was me attempting an onomatopoeia), even at eleven I could hear the pain and anger and frustration in Michael's voice and the words that he was singing. Although it has garnered many misinterpretations - some alleging antisemitic slurs on Michael's part - it is clearly and undeniably a song about the social injustices that we face as humans - be it race, class, religion, sexuality or other. With each lyric he slaps at you (literally, that's what it sounds like!), you can feel his sadness and how he's not just singing about social issues from a pedestal soapbox, but instead straight from the heart where his feelings have been festering and now explode in splendid, chill-giving vocals. Though the song, yes, uses colorful language, it's child's play compared to some of the smut (did I just use "smut" in a sentence? am I seventy years old?) that you regularly hear in songs today, and it's clearly being used to illustrate a point. When I found out that critics were criticizing Michael for using slurs, I was completely dumbfounded. Michael responded in a New York Times article, saying: "The idea that these lyrics could be deemed objectionable is extremely hurtful to me, and misleading. The song in fact is about the pain of prejudice and hate and is a way to draw attention to social and political problems. I am the voice of the accused and the attacked. I am the voice of everyone. I am the skinhead, I am the Jew, I am the black man, I am the white man. I am not the one who was attacking. It is about the injustices to young people and how the system can wrongfully accuse them. I am angry and outraged that I could be so misinterpreted." The video, too, is chock-full of disturbing images illustrating 'round-the-world issues on hate, discrimination and poverty. At times it's hard to digest, but the message over-shines all. PLUS, you get to see Michael Jackson with a mullet. Come on, don't play. Just because he's the King of Pop doesn't mean we can't call a mullet a mullet. Nirvana - Dumb Back story: Wow, switching speeds yet again! Grunge, Alyssa, really? Because there are not enough flannel-wearing fools in the world currently that I need to delve deep into the early 90s and pull out dirty blond unwashed hair, holed jeans and ... misunderstood angst? GOD ABOVE. Anyway forgive me this, y'all, because it's been rainy and I'm feeling all SEATTLE-Y. And, clearly I just discovered the caps button. YOU READY? All right. Unlike many of my contemporaries, I never really went through a Nirvana phase. To be frank, I was way too happy-go-lucky to ever be disciplined enough to lock myself in my bedroom with piles of Nirvana albums, holding myself whilst rocking back and forth, thinking about, like, emotional stuff and shit. Come on, yo. Not my style. BUT, (caps BUT) that doesn't mean that I didn't try. And Lord, I did. Scene: It's my freshman year of high school. Everyone is bat-crap crazy in love with this local band, Sleep Well (now called Sound the Alarm). Well Sleep Well's band members all were still in high school with us, making the fan base extra large, extra angsty and extra crush-addled. I, as I am shameful to admit (and dear God, please don't let my older sister Tara be reading this, because, to this day, I have kept this story from her) fell into the destructive, yet high school-appropriate, groupie syndrome. PERHAPS I had a SORT OF MAJOR crush on Sleep Well's bass player, Colin. PERHAPS my older sister was friends with him, blessing me with a seat next to him in the backseat of her Saab when she would occasionally give him a ride home. PERHAPS I stalked him via AIM, obsessed over his hair, clothes, smile, dimples..... NO, you know what? NO. NOT GOING THERE AGAIN. Too dark. I am a changed woman. Okay. Now. Listen. So, you know when you have a crush on someone and you want to know about all of the stuff that they are into so you can, in turn, know about all that stuff too, rendering the both of you to be, like, SOUL MATES, because you're both into the same books, movies and songs? Do you see where I'm going with this? Okay. Colin liked many bands - Incubus, Deftones, Nirvana...all bands I knew null about. But I wanted him to like me and I wanted him to think I was cooOOOOoool and down with the edgy shit. So, needless to say, I did what any teenager-in-love would have done: raided her older sister and stepfather's CD collection (yet again), scraping up what albums I could find and falling in love with songs I could stomach (because, at that time, none of this noise was the noise that I listened to. I mean, come on, I was dancing to Michael Jackson in my friggin basement! Do you honestly think I had a DEFTONES bone in my body? Absofrigginlutely not). Long story short - and probably a great start to my thesis on My Life In Music: The Early Years, by Alyssa Miele - if I didn't have the crush, if I didn't make the effort, if I didn't purposefully plaster Incubus lyrics all over my away messages (OH COME ON, you remember those) in the hopes of reeling that oblivious boy's heart, I would have never come across this total friggin KEEPER of a Nirvana song (and that's not to say that there aren't any other Nirvana songs that I'm down with, because that's not true. Over time your tastes refine and you see the light, etc, etc...). Always a sucker for the string family in instruments, the violin whispering in and around the rough voice of Kurt Cobain was enough to make me 1. fall in love with the song forever until the end of time, period. 2. Give Nirvana's other songs more of a chance, and 3. Be able to clean up the mess that my broken heart came to be when I learned that Colin was not only into one of my good friend's older sisters, but was ALSO being crushed upon by MY OLDER SISTER (small town...). It was probably one of my top ten Dear Diary moments to date. TO DATE. But, yeah, anyway...Nirvana's "Dumb." Perhaps lyric-appropriate for the silent debacle I made of my tortured heart, the song tells the story of trying to fit in and of the pleasure or security or confidence or whateverthefrig that you get from playing the part and reciting the script. But, you know, it's DUMB, but it doesn't matter because at the time, you feel."happy" (a term, in high school, that is loosely translated to..."I finally have an almost-boyfriend who almost-knows I exist!"). You live and learn, and then you write columns. Colin, I still love you. PS: You want to know the scary part? I even started going to a new youth group at Colin's church just to be around him. WHAT? I was messing with GOD? So dark. Lord, forgive me, he was in a band! THE END. I can't confess to any more this week. You got the Michael Jackson dance and a high school secret love confession on the dubya dubya dubya, what more do you want from me? I'm spent! Until next week, music lovers...

Peter Gabriel has long been a monster in the music biz, immortalizing himself with hits like "Solsbury Hill," "Sledgehammer," and "In Your Eyes". It's the former Genesis lead singer's place in the classic rock canon that makes his most recent album so surprising: a cover album. And among the classic rock hits he reinvents (Bowie, The Kinks, Paul Simon, Lou Reed, Neil Young), Gabriel also pays homage to the present indie scene. The list includes Bon Iver, Regina Spektor, The Magnetic Fields, and Arcade Fire. There's also some Radiohead in there, too - something I never thought I'd hear from Mr. Gabriel.