Traditionally, a bar mitzvah marks a boy's passage into manhood -- a passage that's marked by many changes in life, including a newfound appreciation of bitches, ho's and mind-altering pharmaceuticals. Those post-modern markers were in full evidence when Eminem proteges D-12 dropped in at the bar mitzvah of a suburban Detroit lad named Ethan Weisman. The crew (sans Slim Shady) signed autographs, posed for photos and noshed on some of the finest kreplach west of Brooklyn, carefully avoiding treating any grannies in the house to the kind of beatdown they're alleged to have placed upon fellow Detroit rapper Esham. The thirteen-year-old's dad told a local paper that his unspecified payment for D-12's services entitled him to "a lot of shares in the D12 corporation," and at the rate they're going, that corporation will soon include a cruise-ship lounge division . . .

While the London-based indie record chain Rough Trade is usually known as a breeding ground for political correctness, the shopkeepers shocked customers by announcing that they've decided not to be pro-choice -- for one day, that is. Next Monday, the chain will strip its shelves of all new releases, except for the Aphex Twin's freshly issued Drukqs album -- a double disc that also takes the shape of a four-record vinyl box. Rough Trade pulled a similar stunt back in 1977 at the behest of the Sex Pistols, and it worked just fine, propelling Never Mind the Bollocks into the charts' highest reaches -- but those promised free samples of Sid Vicious' bodily fluids probably contributed to that boom . . .

The daughter of legendary jazz trombonist Kid Ory is doing exactly what Country Joe McDonald often asks audiences to do: She's giving him an "F" and a "U" by filing a lawsuit claiming that McDonald's classic "Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag" cops a few too many licks from her dad's 1926 composition "Muskrat Ramble." Babette Ory, who, for some reason, took nearly four decades to notice the similarity between the tunes, is asking a Los Angeles judge to rule that there was "intentional infringement" -- which could net a payment of $150,000 for each time McDonald performed the song over the past three years. Well, since D12 has the bar mitzvah market cornered, we're guessing that the number can't be all that high . . .

Not satisfied with littering the charts with quasi-cyborgs like Britney and Justin, a passel of music industry bigwigs has decided to go all the way and try their luck with a band made up entirely of robots. The electronic musicians -- and never have we used that term so literally -- are made of pieces of the popular British children's toy kit, Meccano. Much like, say, Fatboy Slim, they play repetitive loops of traditional instruments, but as of the recording of their debut, Mecanoid, they've not been programmed to request the throwing of arms in air . . .

DAVID SPRAGUE
(October 12, 2001)