Could a Tampa Bay Talent be the Next Big Thing?

On Wednesday, October 21st, local bands and radio fans gather at the Push Ultra Lounge to watch the 97x Next Big Thing Local Band Search - a live music competition to help fans decide whose music would be worth paying for at one of Tampa Bay’s biggest concerts in December.

The 97x Next Big Thing is an annual concert put on by 97x for dedicated fans. This bay area FM station loads listeners with a variety of upbeat, alternative tunes whenever 97.1 hits the radio dial. When listeners finally get their NBT ticket ripped at the gate, they get to watch more than 10 bands in the stage line-up and rock out to live songs that blare louder than any radio signal.

This year, 97x is looking for a local band to rock the opening stage.

At Push Ultra Lounge on 3rd Street south, the first night of the band search has begun and Shark, a popular 97x DJ, is excited to host it.

The first local band, Marksmen, took the stage in front of the event’s small crowd. This foursome made the lounge echo with their catchy rhythm, crashing symbols and front man that can sing or shriek in harmonious rock melody.

Chris Brickman and Matt Segallos were the first members of the original band. Brickman played lead guitar while Segallos sparked the lyrical side. After a few months of experimenting with acoustics only, they brought along Reed Murray to bash the drums and Sean Allred to pluck the bass guitar.

Marksmen was born.

Connie Alatorre, a USF student and Marksmen fan, bobbed her head along with the band’s tunes. “I actually know someone who is in the band,” she screamed through the air of guitar riffs and amplified words. “See that guy over there jumping around all crazy with the guitar? That’s my friend, Chris.”

Alatorre works with Marksmen’s guitarist at Sam Ash Music Store in Tampa. She came this Wednesday night to have a few drinks and show support for Brickman’s show. “It’s really surprising that there aren’t a lot of people here for a 97x show,” she said.

There were about 11 people standing in front of the stage. Other small groups of people were sitting at the bar-top or at the booths in the lounge area. Some people decided to show their support by sitting outside.

Push Ultra Lounge is one of the more upscale bars in Downtown St. Pete. The brick walls and silver curved bars that run down the ceiling and bar-side wall give the place a classy, yet down-to-earth atmosphere.

Marksmen rocks hard while Annie Urena leans against the corner of the bar-top, facing the stage. Urena is the Generation Y Liaison for Florida Central Credit Union. She works for FCCU by promoting events that the bank sponsors or participates in, while also getting feedback from the bank's younger generation. She uses the most popular social networking sites to get the word across to younger people or anyone that is connected to FCCU online.

“I’m actually uploading a photo to Facebook right now,” she said while her cell phone screen flashed the familiar homepage. “I deal with the Twitter pages, Facebook and MySpace, stuff like that.” She also updates a web page on blogger.com for the credit union.

According to Urena, Florida Central Credit Union is giving $1,500 to the winning band of this 97x band competition. Her job opens many connections for networking and being involved in social events. Aside from this 97x event, she is also in the process of helping with three upcoming television commercials.

This was the first night of the 97x Next Big Thing Local Band Search, but it won’t be the last. More local talent will be playing at Push every Wednesday for the next five weeks, so fans can decide whose music should make it to the NBT stage in December.

The 97x Next Big Thing will celebrate its ninth anniversary at the Ford Amphitheatre this year. Gates open at 10 a.m. Ticket prices range from $20-$65 depending on section choice, plus the added service fees. Some of the headlining bands that will be shaking the stage on December 6th include: Rise Against, Chevelle and Thirty Seconds to Mars.

The opening band is up to the fans.
Listen to the Tampa Bay locals and cast a vote at 97xonline.com.

Annie Urena (left) and fans

Future Reveals Grim Result of Miller's Morning

HOLY FUCK, FLA, Nov. 5 - A University of South Florida student, Nicole D. Miller, is currently losing her fucking mind in her Madeira Beach home this morning. Officials said the onset of this time-lapsing epiphany of analytical pessimism began earlier the previous day, but has lasted until 2:38 a.m.

Officials also said that Miller realized today that she only experiences bad in everything because of the people who cause it in her world and do not even take the time to notice. "It's like, how can you just shit all over someone's day and then politely step over it so you don't get any on you?" she said early Thursday morning.

According to Miller, this constant fatuous bullshit makes her want to "inhale staples" and "peel my face off, so I have something to suffocate myself with."

So far, her coping method is playing Wii and rapping the popular 97x song, No Handlebars, in its entireity.

"Rapping helps me forget about peoples' bullshit for a few solid minutes," she said.


Fuck Life.

This First Friday won't be the last

It’s that time again:

Cops are roaming the streets.
Roads are blocked off.
Crowds of pedestrians are shuffling through the cross-walks.

It’s October 2nd.

On the first Friday of each month, Downtown St. Petersburg encourages citizens of the legal drinking age to celebrate. Spreading out from Central Avenue, surrounding streets provide several bars, eateries and street performers that attract and provide a late-night party scene for any First Friday participant.

The downtown area provides several blocks of entertainment to spark a lively nightlife. Popular bars like The Tamiami, Mastry’s Bar and The Bishop Tavern attract many college-age customers. These bars are usually packed wall-to-wall on First Fridays. A bar-top itself can be difficult to spot through a sea of human limbs moving to trendy hip-hop songs to their own unbalanced rhythm. In these bars, the music is just loud enough to shadow the room full of mixed conversations floating through the air, between good friends or friendly strangers.

Chris Wilson, a bar-goer at Mastry’s, enjoys the First Friday atmosphere: “It’s all about the social life, the people, the scene,” he screams over his plastic cup of beer with a smile on his face. “I love seeing new faces.”

At the back end of Mastry’s, drinkers are provided with a brick patio area covered by a wooden overhang, so they can socialize in a designated part of the back alley. Surrounding the brick area, puddles of liquid gather inside the dips in the street while the stench of vomit lingers in the air.

Inside the Tamiami, mirrors cover the walls across from the bar-top, creating a sense that the bar has reached its full capacity for the evening. Drinkers carefully hold cups of cocktails above their heads to prevent a pricey spill.

Perched on a bar stool, 28-year-old Jeff Smith slurs his opinion about First Friday in St. Pete: “Actually, I don’t like anything at all,” he said. “I’d rather be at home reading to be honest with you.” Smith explains how the First Friday scene is nothing more than an awkward dating game that gets old fast. “The next step for me is marriage at this point,” he said. “I’m done messing around.”

After last call, citizens pour onto the streets and sidewalks like a glass Captain and Coke spilling off of a barstool. Even though it is past 2 a.m., Friday does not end here.

Angie’s Café, located next to Jannus Landing on 1st Avenue N., stays open after bar-hoppers pay their final tab. People can line up down the sidewalk to place their order at the convenient to-go window. Fortunato’s Italian Market is also open later on First Friday, providing partiers with a past-midnight snack.

Some independent musicians and artists even stay up late to entertain or make a couple bucks from downtown passerby. In front of Fortunato’s, a man wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt strums his 6-string acoustic while people whiz past him on the sidewalk. At a street corner, a middle-aged man bashes his red drum set in front of a white building. At another corner, a man in white make-up is sprawled out on the sidewalk, tapping his bongo with a basket full of dollar bills. His outfit is complete with a festive headdress, animal print bra and straw skirt.

First Friday appears to be the ultimate once-a-month party scene. The event attracts so many people that roads like 2nd Ave N. are barricaded to keep vehicles out of pedestrian traffic. Cops line the streets to monitor the safety of citizens and keep potential troublemakers in check. “A lot of people plus a lot of booze equals potentials for problems,” said one St. Petersburg police officer. He says that First Friday is a night of many calls for the St. Pete police station. “A person just got shot on the west side of town,” he said.

I'll just have to drum something up on my own. Pure. Gonzo. Journalism.

As I stare blankly at my Dell laptop screen, the word “professional” bounces around my lexicon, trying to find some personal meaning in a sea of my firing neurons. They nip away at it like piranhas in the Amazon. The letter F is devoured as the O clings for dear life onto the serif of Mr. R.

I don’t like the word professional. Professionalism scares me. In my opinion, you do not have to be “professional” to be successful. When I think of a professional journalist, I think of someone typing their life away in front of a glowing computer screen. Their eyes are bloodshot, as they chug Starbucks and fill their Marlboro-flavored ashtray for the second time. They are awake at an hour during which most people are hitting the REM cycle. They are writing another article about the failing U.S. economy under a hard deadline. They hate their life.

Speaking from a societal viewpoint, a journalist is someone who can analyze an event, slap words on paper to form coherent and comprehensible sentences, remain aware of ethical issues in media and jump through all of the necessary hoops to earn a respectable degree. And that, folks, is also the difference between journalism and citizen journalism.

Everyone has their own idea of what a journalist should be. Each person’s opinion is obviously swayed by the authors they are drawn to and their own personal writing style. Writers have the ability to construct their own reality by picking out the specific nuts and bolts of information that they find important and expressing them through words. For example, my friend and I are sitting on the same bench. She sees the blue Mustang whiz past us, while I am distracted by a conflict between two squirrels near an oak tree. I never notice the existence of the Mustang. She doesn’t see what happens to the acorn. Thus, different people have the ability to write about any situation or experience in a new, fresh way.

My opinion sways in the opposite direction of most. I am drawn to sarcasm, obscenity, irony and wit. Hunter S. Thompson is my hero. Thompson is most well-known for the novel Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, but he has written other pieces worthy of reading. He started “Gonzo journalism,” which is journalism written from the most subjective, vulgar and bizarre viewpoints. There are no limits in this genre, as Thompson so eloquently exhibited during his lifetime. He wrote stories under the influence of a vast array of substances, was often late to work, dressed like a tourist bum and usually disobeyed his editors; in fact, they would sometimes have to beg him to send anything in time to be printed while he made adventures out of his assignments.

Now, I know I won’t be B-lining through Barstow with a head full of acid anytime soon, but it’s nice to know that good journalism sometimes stems from the limitless. Was Hunter S. Thompson professional? Not really, unless you’re rating him on a scale from one to… insane. Was Hunter S. Thompson successful? Legendary.

I want to be a journalist so I can write about the world in my own crazy style, without having to peel off my professional “society face” at the end of each day. I can’t be professional. I can write. When I try to be prim and proper, I cannot. I want to share my views with the world as I travel it. I want my job to be an adventure, not a chore or “something I’m gonna have to do tomorrow.” I want to be able to dive head-first into the media abyss from whichever angle I choose. I want this or I won’t have much else.

Fin.