Sex, Drugs, And Bubblegum Pop, is our most outlandish column to date. Written by Mr. Jayce, vocalist for Secret Secret Dino Club and all-round funny guy, this column isn’t as much about the music as it is the experiences people in the music industry have.

WARNING: This column does and will continue to contain content some readers may find offensive. If you don’t have a sense of humor, this column is probably not for you.

“Y’all wanna be big rockstars” -Chad and the Kroegers

Whatever happened to rock stars? I’m talking larger than life, bad influence rock stars who don’t give a fuck about anything. You know what happened? Fucking Facebook and Twitter and stupid fans.

One day some shitty little girl woke up and decided she needed to know every detail about her favorite singer’s life. Stalking took way too much work so she just harassed people on myspace until they payed attention to her. Soon enough things like meet & greets became a right rather than a privilege. A picture or a signed cd wasn’t enough. She needed 10 pictures because she looked fat, a kiss on the cheek, a hug, a voicemail message, a phone call to her friend, a sign for her shitty tumblr, an interview on her flip cam and god knows what else. Axl Rose would have spit in all of your faces.

You can’t just blame crazy little girls, it’s everyone’s fault. When music slowly became water to kids and they didn’t even know the 50 gigs worth of music she downloaded onto her iPod, new techniques of procuring money from people had to come into play. Interaction with fans was not just something suggested, it was required and the more you let people in the better off it seemed you were.

I don’t believe this one bit. The more you let people in, the less mystery and the more human they seem. When I go to see a band, I don’t want to watch people. I see people everyday and people suck. They just let you down. I want to see rock stars who don’t live in reality. They live on another planet just filled with hot babes, blowjobs and never ending guitar solos. They are immune to STDs, never need to sleep and all have slight British accents. They are all married but their wives encourage them to have sex with anything that walks. That is what rock n roll is. When we threw out strippers and heroine for “I <3 boobies" bracelets and anti-suicide bullshit hoodies, music truly died in my eyes. It's like every band is currently stuck singing "we are the world" and trying to be a missionary in Uganda. Do you really think playing your shitty ambient indie songs to little African kids is going to make their lives better? Do you think your song about finding your voice is going to cure breast cancer? No. If you want to do this kind of thing, that's great and very valiant of you. But don't be a rockstar. Be a doctor, join the army, work for Tom's, whatever. Help keep rock alive and appreciate music for what it is. Mr. Jayce

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James Shotwell

James Shotwell is the founder of Under The Gun Review. He loves writing about music and movies almost as much as he loves his two fat cats. He's also the co-founder of Antique Records and the Marketing Coordinator for Haulix. You should probably follow him on Twitter.

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