Everybody loves a spectacle. And by that I mean the kind that's carefully scripted, highly orchestrated, and by all means intentional--because when a spectacle is over and we have paid good money to see it, we certainly don't want to spend the whole night and most of the next day feeling all icky and depressed for having participated in it. That said, is there a soul alive who attended Corey Feldman's show at the OK Hotel last week who didn't spend a good 36 hours feeling all shitty and sad afterward, pissed not only that you laid out money for what had to be the worst rock show ever, but also at yourself because you thought it'd be a hoot? No one's sicker with themselves than I am--I heard the album, for God's sake, and I still went to the show, knowing full well from the lyric sheet that Feldman was 100-percent serious. If I laughed at Corey, I might as well go back to fifth grade and laugh at retards, because that's how unfunny the night promised to be.

Okay, it was kind of funny. But only for a second. Corey made a dramatic entrance, all rock-and-roll arm gestures and back to the audience, then spinning around to sing the first lyric with such velocity that his sunglasses flew awkwardly off his face. His backup singer looked like a stripper pulled straight off of Sunset Boulevard, and I'm almost certain her mic was turned off the entire show. I doubt she really was a stripper, though, because she had the worst moves and lack of rhythm I've seen in any backup singer, ever. There was a didgeridoo dragged up onstage prior to the set, which sent the crowd into wild fits of expectant sniggering, but I'll be damned if I saw it used. Maybe it was there for sartorial reasons, as Feldman is approximately 5'3" tall. He complained that he had blown out his voice earlier in the day (how--by yelling at the club booker who informed Feldman he couldn't have the TWO fog machines he requested?), so his singing was a little rough. He sang a song about his hatred for the press, called "Depressed" (get it?)--and I kept remembering the message he left on my voice mail, introducing himself and asking if I wanted to interview him. I would have, if anywhere in his rambling message he'd left a number where I could reach him. Showgoers left in droves during that particularly embarrassing song, but the faithful few (and myself, I admit) remained. Some threw panties onstage, others shouted lines from The Goonies. It was awful, and I felt awful, and I feel awful now when I report to you that his encore was a lackluster cover of "Stand by Me." The merchandise table was a flurry of activity, however, with money flying faster than a craps game in Vegas. Apparently, the joke was furthered by $12 T-shirts that read, "Corey Feldman Rocks," and buttons with Goonies references stamped on them. Maybe it was all an intentional spectacle, carefully scripted and highly orchestrated. Maybe the stripper-like backup singer hauling her amp all by herself after the show, with the didgeridoo under her arm, was part of the act, too; but I don't think she was.


Name change alert: Automaton Adventure Series is now just Automaton. Here's the reason, straight from the horse's mouth: "Basically, we dropped the Adventure Series from the name and are just going with Automaton because we were sick of having to repeat the name, like, five times until people understood."