photo by Jay Lee

​Fleetwood Mac is perhaps the most distinct and musically diverse bands around. What started out as a British blues band headed by drummer Mick Fleetwood and lead singer/guitarist Peter Green became a pop/rock powerhouse with the addition of guitar virtuoso Lindsey Buckingham and his then-girlfriend, singer Stevie Nicks.

One of the things that has fueled their popularity in addition to their music is that they're a walking soap opera. Most, if not all the tracks on their multiplatinum 1977 release, the aptly titled Rumours, are about their relationships with each other.

However, Fleetwood Mac is an album-oriented band. Each album is different and on those albums are some equally amazing tracks.

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Photo By Faith Silva

Adam Lambert at the Hobby Center in September 2010

​No shit, right? Can we all agree that American Idol alum and modern glam-popper Adam Lambert is the best choice to front Queen in 2012? Good. No more discussion. Just lay back, close your eyes, and think warm thoughts, and imagine the ghost of Freddie Mercury shaking his ass side stage.

Earlier today Lambert leaked the news to the U.K.'s Daily Star that he will be fronting the iconic rock band in the near future. We can't think of anyone better to keep surviving members of Queen on the road, and interim lead singer Paul Rogers was laughable in the Mercury slot. Sorry, but the Bad Company and Free frontman has zero of the sex appeal that Mercury had in his pinky finger, and his weave sucked. Still has a great voice though.

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​It started as a simple question: What albums would you leave your unborn children, if you knew you were on borrowed time and may not be around to show them the way. At first I asked for albums for sons, but then it grew broader, not out of needing to pacify the PC-thug in me, but to make sure everyone, regardless of gender, had a sort of Rosetta Stone of musical history in their hands.

You could leave them pristine vinyl versions of these, a collection of cassettes, or maybe just a diamond-covered flash drive, if are so inclined. As for me, I will also leave my unborn child my Rdio account. That's not a paid endorsement, that's just me being expedient.

To get some obvious picks out of the way, the entire Beatles catalog will come standard with being my child, like seat-belts in cars. As will George Strait's Strait Out Of The Box, and ZZ Top's catalog.

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Photos by Marco Torres

​It all seemed very dream-like: a band from East Los Angeles, playing rock and roll classics and Mexican corridos, inside of a 150-year-old barn in The Woodlands, all while I ate my dinner. Yet I wasn't dreaming, I was just at the Dosey Doe (25911 I-45 North). The intimate dining and music hall made this feel less like a concert and more like a wedding reception that I had just crashed. It was my first time visiting this venue, but surely hope it won't be my last.

Like many others, I first heard of Los Lobos on the soundtrack for La Bamba. I practically wore out that cassette tape on my walkman as a kid, equally absorbing the magic of Ritchie Valens and Los Lobos with each sitting. The first time I saw them live was back in 1998 when they co-headlined a show with Carlos Santana, also in The Woodlands. Seeing David Hidalgo and Cesar Rosas go toe to toe with my guitar hero cemented them in my mind as "bad-ass rockeros."

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​The news of Don Cornelius' suicide earlier this week left many stunned and hurt, especially those who were fans of the legendary TV show Soul Train. Noted for being the alternative to American Bandstand, the show ran from 1971 to 2006 opening the doors to young performers and countless generations starring at Don and muttering "Love, Peace and Soul" right along with him.

Even though the show lost its spark once hip-hop began dominating pop culture in the '80s and early '90s, classic reruns air today on various programming. Still, it would be remiss without thinking - what would Soul Train if they decided to bring it back full time and who could carry the legacy of hosting it?

Here are the requirements to be the host of the revamped Soul Train. One, you have to have a connection to your audience that doesn't make you seem like a curmudgeon, or at least not like that In Living Color "Old Train" skit. Two, you sort of have to be young America goes for that stuff. Three, you can't be Ryan Secreast. Should be simple enough, right? Good.

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​In Huntsville, back somewhere around 2000, there used to be this club called The Tin Can. There are a bunch of reasons to remember The Tin Can; two stand out and another is unfortunately appropriate today.

The most nefarious of the three: It had to have been the most unsafe club in American history. Not because the people that went there regularly were unruly and dangerous, because they weren't. It was mostly college kids and, historically, college kids are total pussies. It was unsafe because, structurally, it was a goddamn furnace waiting to happen. It looked like a gigantic soup can had been cut in half and laid on its side. It was like whoever owned it had wanted to be an actual club owner but couldn't afford a proper venue, so he bought a discarded solid metal building, hired a DJ and said, "Hey, come to my new club. It's only $5 to get in. Free drinks before 11 for ladies. Oh, and by the way, pray to God it doesn't catch on fire or all of you bitches are going to be cooked alive. Alright laters, dudes."

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Photo by Chris Gray

Mike Stinson and Friends at Under the Volcano

​Houston's own Mike Stinson is no stranger to media coverage. Hell, it was big news when the "King of the L.A. Honky-tonkers" relocated to the Bayou City two-and-a-half years ago. When it comes to press, though, it doesn't get much bigger than the New York Times. The Old Gray Lady gave the local hero a tip of its Yankees cap earlier this week.

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"I am not one of these rappers that be rappin' just for shine, for these skeezers on these pics on inDmix. Bottom line: I gotta grind." --Doughbeezy

Twelve months is all it took.

At the beginning of last year, Doughbeezy, a 5'7" high bald fade with a rapper underneath, was an unknown. UNKNOWN. Shit, the first time we covered him here in this space, we weren't even bothering to spell his name right (it's ONE word, duh).

Since the beginning of this year though, he has regularly been touted as one of the city's very best talents by some of the city's very best talents. To list all he's accomplished since last January seems unnecessarily perfunctory (music + tours + followed on Twitter by Barack Obama + coverage by major music magazines and sites, etc). Just know that it's been a ton and it's been a ton and it's been a ton.

And this March, with his "buzz" proportionate to his outsized work ethic, he will release his first proper project, Blue Magic. That up there, that's "Grind," the first single from BM. Listen to it. It's a dervish that manages to feel tempered, which is exactly the type of organic evolution* people were hoping for when he began teasing the tape.

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Photo By Marco Torres

​All of the Super Bowl talk this week has given me a chance to ponder one of my favorite pop culture questions: how big do you have to be to perform at the Super Bowl half time show? When you consider the acts that have performed since the 2005 move to one act performances the amount of star power they've managed to book is staggering. We're talking millions upon millions of records sold, iconic nicknames, and first ballot hall of famers.

From a certain perspective, the well is starting to run dry. There are only so many legendary acts that are still performing and have the name value to pull the type of rating the half time show is known for.

So what do the next few half time shows look like? Who has that combination of great music, name recognition, and big show aura?

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​Recently I returned to being an active musician, and that is peachy with a side of keen. Like most musicians, I'm a day dreamer who spends his bathtub time answering in-depth questions from imaginary hot, red-headed music journalists about the undeniable genius of my art. Also returning are the ever-present dream gig musings.

Since I was a kid, the dream gig was always Saturday Night Live. I can't even tell you how many great new artists I discovered on SNL, but in the last several years I've watched the show most weeks and seen only two, Adele and Beck, who really wowed me. The rest were quite forgettable.

Clearly, SNL isn't the place it once was when it comes to musical brilliance. This lead me to seek a new dream gig. Here's the top five places I'd rather get showcased than SNL.

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