Monday, December 24, 2012

Top 10 Rules of the Road

I'm often asked what the touring experience is like. Most people are shocked when I tell them it's an awful, miserable time. But, like with most things in life, the most difficult endeavors reap the sweetest rewards. So, in that respect, touring can be one of the most amazing experiences of your life. The payback for investing your time, your money and your sanity can be measured by much more than dollars. Traveling the globe, meeting new friends, making connections, and, most importantly, sharing your passion with the world. What we get to see and experience is something most people will never get to do.

The majority of those asking are, as would be expected, young musicians looking for a bit of insight. New kids on the block trying to get their feet wet and hoping to get a few tips from those who've been in the trenches. I wouldn't consider myself a successful artist, because what the hell is success, anyways, but I have definitely been at this for a while. So for those who have asked, those who've been too afraid to ask, and those who don't really care, here are my Top 10 Rules of Touring.

1. Know Your Role

This is probably the most vital rule of all, yet for some reason, most people don't seem to grasp it. Whatever level you are at in your music career, you are always dependent on other people. You may be headlining a tour and pulling 500 people at the El Corazon in Seattle or The Bottom Lounge in Chicago, but seriously, no one cares, and it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole to the local crew. The local crew are there to help you, not wipe your ass. Be courteous to them. If you're not, you may just get that busted microphone or DI Box, maybe your monitor mix will mysteriously change. Fact is, the success of your show depends on a lot more than you.

On the flip side, if you're the opening band, don't act like an entitled prick because you have 5,000 likes on (insert current social media favorite here), do not waltz into the backstage and eat the headliner's catering, don't drink their booze. I can't tell you how many times I have come offstage wanting nothing more than a cold beer, only to be greeted by an empty fridge and a drunk opening band. In fact, stay out of the headliner's backstage all together. When you stay out of the way, you will be appreciated, and that appreciation often turns into an invite to the backstage for drinks.

2. Keep It Simple

Why do local bands feel the need to bring every piece of gear they own to their gig opening for a touring package that already has 4 bands on the bill? Do they feel like the fact that they brought 4 guitar cabinets and 10 synthesizers validates them in the eyes of the audience? Whatever the reason is, I can promise you, the audience isn't impressed, and neither is the touring package that has to try and accommodate your massive space requirements. All your rats nest of cables and wires and racks of guitars serves to achieve is making the crew hate you (both local AND touring).

Keep your live rig as stripped down as possible. Be efficient, make sure you can set up and tear down the entire thing in 10 minutes or less. When you can set up and tear down quickly and efficiently, people will recognize your professionalism, they will remember that and they won't roll their eyes when they see that you're opening for them on their next tour. Think of it this way: When your changeover time is longer than your set time, you're doing it wrong.

3. Watch What You Eat

That Catfish Burrito you just ate from the gas station in the middle of New Mexico WILL come back to haunt you. The Chinese Food everyone got at the strip mall in Phoenix will make your next 24 hours very unpleasant. Do yourself, and everyone else traveling with you, a favor, and eat as healthy as possible. Eat simple, basic foods that will keep you alive, otherwise you'll be running for a toilet every 30 minutes. And be warned, toilets on the road are few and far between.

4. Get Blitzed (After You Clock Out)

You know that video of me on YouTube where I'm wasted? Oh, really? There's more than one? You don't say. Here's the deal. People video tape all the crazy shit I do when I'm drunk because it's (arguably) entertaining. What people never film is the eight hour drive we did, the load in, the set up, counting merch, counting money, breaking down or loading out. All of this happens before me or my crew does any serious drinking. Why? Because counting seven thousand dollars while completely annihilated is impossible. Trust me, I know. If you are drunk, you are useless. Make sure everything is done and everything is packed BEFORE you get the wise idea to pound a bottle of Jaegermeister for twenty seconds and then vomit all over yourself.

P.S. I, for one, am (mostly) against filming drunken shenanigans, but that's a whole other blog post.

5. Pack Light, Pack Right

Nothing like the first day of tour when some witless amateur shows up to the van with two giant suitcases, a backpack, a trolly and a laptop bag. What makes you think I want to load and unload those two monsters in and out of the trailer every day? What makes you think that being on a thirty-five day tour means you need to bring thirty-five t-shirts? Thirty-five pairs of underwear? And once we're underway, why didn't you zip up your backpack? Because when Tim hit the brakes the contents of it spilled all over the inside of the van and now your iPod is missing. Which you didn't realize until two days later.

Space is valuable, so is keeping track of your valuables. Bring a weeks worth of clothes with you in one small trolly bag and do laundry when you can. Organize everything and know where it is at all times. Keep your luggage constantly zipped up and for the love of god, put your dirty rainbow toe socks in a plastic bag and put them in your backpack, they're stinking up the van and making me question your sexuality.

6. Take A Shower

Please. Pretty please. I know the venue in Tulsa didn't have one, but the one in Columbus does, so use it. Being on tour is not an excuse to be foul. Brush your teeth, too.

7. Understand That You Will Lose Money

You're going to lose money, A LOT of money, before you make any. And once you start making money, it's not going to be a lot. This is an investment. Buy onto larger tours, make merchandise, eat the cost of gas, take every opportunity you get without worrying about the finances. In my eyes, the determining factor of success is how determined you are. Those who try and fail and try again are more likely to make something of themselves.

8. Stop complaining

Stop whining that you're tired. We're all tired. Stop complaining that the crowd didn't rage enough. They never do. Stop bitching about the fact that you didn't sell enough merch. We all want to sell more merch. Shut up about the drive from El Paso to Dallas. We all know it's brutal. We're all suffering, we're all stressed, we're all trying to keep it together. Your shrill barrage of grievances isn't helping the situation, it just makes me want to leave you at that WaWa's in Richmond, Virginia.

9. Do Your Job

If you sign up for a job, make sure you know how to do it. The tour manager shouldn't be explaining to the merch guy how to run a merch booth. I need to be setting up the computer for soundcheck, not nagging the promoter for bottled water. Load your own gear out of the trailer, because if I have to do it, I'm going to hate you. With that said, when someone else isn't doing their job, step up and make sure it gets done. Never forget that everyone in the crew is paying attention. They are sizing you up constantly and their opinion of you could be the difference between getting that next tour, or not. I can guarantee you that no one is going to hire the guy who, when the shit hits the fan, puts up his hands and says "not my job".

10. Don't Let the Vodka Spoil

Once the bottle is open, vodka tends to go bad very quickly. Ingest it before the mold forms.

That pretty much sums it all up. Every single reference I've made here is lifted from an actual experience I've had. Some of them are mistakes I've seen other people make, many of them are mistakes I've made myself. The funny thing is, I know that some of you out there will read this and think you'll consider what I've said and put it into practice. The truth is that none of you will take anything away from this but a chuckle or two. When you're on the road, you'll have to learn these lessons yourself, the hard way. Because really, the only way to remember not to mix beer and vodka and Jaeger and a joint, is to wake up in your bunk, covered in your own vomit in the sweltering heat of Bryan, TX with sandwich meat shoved into your pockets and socks. That, and, of course, the ensuing $150 bill from the bus company to replace your puke covered mattress.

Friday, November 30, 2012

The Gothic Cruise: Eternal Banishment

As some of you probably know by now, we've just been handed a lifetime ban on the now infamous Gothic Cruise. I recently boasted about the ban on the Aesthetic Perfection Facebook page, but, in the name of diplomacy, I decided to remove it and give a more detailed explanation here on my blog.

The first draft of this post was a bit long winded. It was an overly detailed, garbled mess of "he said, she said". However, I feel compelled to convey to everyone how infuriated we are by the accusations that have been leveled against us. Of the multitude crimes we're being crucified for, I can honestly tell you that we are guilty of just one or two. And of those, they are being grossly exaggerated. We are being used as a scapegoat for all the bad behavior on that boat, and it isn't fair. But even so, more than I am angry, I am saddened, that a large part of our banishment is due to fellow Gothic Cruisers tattling on us, playing telephone with grandiose tales of debauchery, and simply lacking the maturity to tap me or my crew on the shoulder, and politely ask us to behave. Where is the camaraderie? You want to accuse me of lacking maturity, well please tell me, where was yours?

While picturing a bunch of goths in white pancake makeup, sunbathing in knee high New Rock boots is worthy of a snicker or two, fact is, I like the concept A LOT. To me, there's nothing like defying convention and doing something that is so totally absurd that it goes from being totally absurd to being totally awesome. In short, I love the idea of a goth cruise. I enjoyed meeting a lot of new people and sharing a new experience, but I must admit that all of that has been soured. The organizers are impolite, hypocritical liars, they have taken what is a wonderful idea and ruined it. So I welcome the ban, I am happy to never attend one of their events again. Hopefully, one day, a new organizer will come along and take what is a great concept, and make it work. For now, though, I will avoid the current incarnation of the Gothic Cruise like the plague.

Seeya never Gothic Cruise.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

A Merry Christmas

Here's a list of what we've got going on in Europe this December!

15.12.2012 Malmö (SE), Inkonst
20.12.2012 Vienna (A), Viper Room
22.12.2012 Munich (GER), Garage de Luxe
23.12.2012 Hamburg (GER), Kir Club
25.12.2012 Chemnitz (GER), Stadthalle
28.12.2012 Bochum (GER), Matrix

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Racism: A Love Story

My poor, neglected blog. I really haven't used this thing for it's intended purpose. Well, maybe I have. I wanted to use it to get in contact with my fans and share little insights into what goes on in my world. Unfortunately, my life isn't all that exciting. Well, maybe it is, but from my perspective it's just business as usual. More and more I feel like I should shift the focus of the blog away from me and what I'm doing, and perhaps use it to share my perspectives about different topics that people find interesting. Either way, I really do intend to make more use of this thing, so expect the format to kind of meander around, plodding if you will, like a dog who is aimlessly searching for a place to lie down.

For the moment, though, I'm going to tell a story. A story I've been telling for years. I told it again the other day and the person I told the story to suggested I write a book. Apparently my (mis)adventures are entertaining. Since lately I haven't even had time to sit down and watch a movie, much less write a book, I'll just start by blogging this story. If I ever write a book, this story will definitely get a chapter.

Racism: A Love Story

Way back in 2007 I flew to Norway to play a show. In fact, up to now, it's the only Norwegian gig I've ever done. This was years before Tim Van Horn, I was living in Berlin at the time and my buddy Andre was playing keyboards for me. We went up to Trondheim and played our little, intimate show. The show itself had its own slew of mishaps, but in the end we sorted them out. All went well, all had fun, and all got drunk. The next morning, our friends brought us to Trondheim airport and waved goodbye. I had expressed to them I was worried about our flight getting cancelled because it was Winter and snowing pretty heavily. They shrugged it off and said something to the effect of "this is Norway, we know how to deal with snow." That answer was good enough for me, and off we went.

Now, I'm not a great flier. In fact, I am terrified of flying. So much so, that to get me onto a plane without throwing a fit you have to either drug me, or get me extremely drunk. This being the case, after heading through security, I headed directly to the airport bar. At the bar, Andre and I knocked back a few drinks, and as time pressed on, the shitty weather got even shittier. Halfway through my 4th or 5th beer, the status of every flight on the departure screen changed from "on time" to "delayed". When our scheduled departure time came and went without any new information, we decided not to panic and ride it out at the bar.

A couple hours passed when finally an announcement regarding our flight came over the PA. As it turned out, our plane that was supposed to land in Trondheim and take us back to Berlin, had been rerouted to a military base in Northern Norway. The snowy conditions in Trondheim were so bad the plane couldn't land. We were instructed to exit the airport and get into buses that would escort us to the military base 45 minutes away. Andre and I shrugged our shoulders, pounded our beers and followed the other passengers to the idling buses outside.

After cramming ourselves into one of the three buses we were on our way. At the beginning, we really kind of enjoyed the drive. The snowy mountains of the Norwegian countryside are quite beautiful indeed. So along the winding mountain roads we plowed, not for 45 minutes, but for over an hour and a half, after which we didn't arrive at the military base, but came to an abrupt stop when the bus hit a snow bank and got hopelessly stuck! Apparently no one thought to put chains on the bus we were riding in, so there we stood, knee deep in snow, waiting for them to dig the poor bus out. Around two hours later we were on our way again, with the assurance that we'd be arriving soon.

Our 2nd stop came about an hour later. Had we arrived at the military base? No! It was the ferry that was supposed to take us across the fjord! Funny no one mentioned that when describing this allegedly 45 minute ride to us. No matter. Andre and I took it in stride. We figured that at least we'd get to sit on the deck of a Norwegian ferry boat and soak in the scenery. Which is exactly what we did, for the 1 hour long trip.

By the time the boat docked on the other side of the fjord, we had been traveling for 5 or 6 hours. The sun was beginning to set, and everyone was showing signs of fatigue. The people working for the airline assured us we were almost there, and began briefing us on the what exactly would be happening at the military base. There wasn't much in the way of security, they said. Just two guards and one metal detector, so we should be prepared for delays. As they finished their spiel, through the window in the fading light, we could make out the faint outline of a jet airplane, and beside it, just a tiny, wooden hut. That was our airport, our military "base".

We exited the buses and lined up single file outside the hut. It was well below freezing outside, and me, being the genius that I am, was totally unprepared. Converse sneakers, thin pants and a hoodie, typical California attire, not too useful in the middle of fucking Norway in the dead of fucking Winter. Somehow I avoided hypothermia and made it into the tiny 10x10 ft hut. We went through their security screening and headed towards the plane, which, from up close, had pretty obviously been sitting there all day, because it was covered in a layer of snow about 1 ft thick.

When we entered the plane, there weren't any free seats next to one another, so Andre and I went our separate ways. Since I hate sitting at the window, I plopped down in the first available aisle seat. To my shock and horror, sitting next to me was a very Arabic looking Muslim guy. Now, anyone who knows me, knows I HATE religion, and the last thing I wanted to do was have some asshole lecture me about God and how I'm going to hell (Which happens way too often when I fly). But I had other things on my mind, specifically the snow covered plane and runway. Did I mention I'm not a good flier?

As usual, a deicing machine was brought out to clear the plane of snow and ice before takeoff. They went through the whole procedure and of course, we all expected to be shortly taking off. I'm always nervous in these situations because I've seen enough episodes of Air Crash Investigation to know that deicing a plane doesn't always work, and human error can often result in a jammed rudder or aviator. Simply put, plane goes down, goes boom. My uneasiness transformed into fear when the Pilot came on the PA to explain to us that the deicing equipment at that airport was a bit dated, and was never intended to be used on a commercial jetliner. He went so far as to describe it as "inadequate". After some deliberating, the Pilot announced that he would go outside, and do it himself. So, we all watched as the Pilot donned a giant Winter coat, stepped out into the blizzard and began to personally deice the plane.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet, but I'm not a very good flier. I'm actually pretty scared of flying. And all this business about inadequate deicing equipment made me more than a little tense. I'd also been eying my Muslim neighbor, who seemed to be keeping careful watch on the movements of the flight attendants. By now all of the alcohol had worn off and my heart rate was climbing. The pilot came back from his deicing mission and got into the cockpit.

As we began taxiing to the start of the runway, my Muslim neighbor became increasingly agitated. His gaze constantly seemed to shift between the flight attendants, and his backpack, which he had at his feet. Beads of sweat began forming on his forehead and he fidgeted nonstop. Constantly shifting himself from side to side, watching the flight attendants, watching his bag. This guy was making me nervous. Now, I know what you're thinking. "Not all Muslims are terrorists you racist asshole." Well duh. I know that. The logical side of my brain is fully aware of that fact. But seriously, fuck religion. I watch the news. I know what fucked up psychopathic religious nut jobs do. And it's easy to be logical when you're sitting in the comfort of your own home, reading this story and judging me, but when you're in a situation when you're already terrified, and someone is acting suspicious while fulfilling each and every attribute of your stereotypical terrorist, logic goes out the window.

After a few minutes, we reached the start of the runway. Instead of announcing our takeoff, the Captain returned to the PA to deliver us even more bad news. Apparently, it was so cold that evening, that the deicing fluid that was supposed to prevent ice and snow buildup on the plane, had actually frozen. Our 747 was nothing more than a block of ice. At that point, my brain is going haywire trying to process all of this; the suspected terrorist at my left and the news that I'm sitting inside a plane that's about to take off but probably can't even fly properly. The Captain announces that he is going to run outside again, deice the plane as quickly as possible, then jump back into the plane and try to take off before it freezes again. Sounds like a great plan, whatever could possibly go wrong?

I may have forgotten to mention this, I HATE flying. And when the Captain jumped outside for the second time, the minutes felt like hours as I waited to find out if this story would come to a fiery end. The deicing fluid splashed against the window to my left, my neighbor anxiously chewed at his fingernails, and I continued to sweat bullets. A short time later, the Captain returned, came on the PA and announced "flight attendants, prepare for takeoff." Within moments the cabin doors were shut, the flight attendants hurriedly took their seats and the engines began to roar. I gripped the arm rests of my seat and mentally said goodbye to my loved ones. As we barreled down the runway my Muslim neighbor was grimacing, constantly looking down at the backpack by his feet. I felt the surge of the plane lifting off the ground and a moment later I felt the plane turn. Nothing had frozen in place, everything was working, we would be ok.

My optimism melted away as I came back to reality and remembered my neighbor, the suspected terrorist, sitting at my side, looking nervous and staring at his bag. As the plane continued to climb towards cruising altitude, he continued to sweat profusely. He popped his head up above the seats and scanned the plane. Nervously, but with conviction, he reached for the backpack. At this point in time, I'm beginning to wonder if I should sound an alarm. This Muslim guy is about to go for a gun or a knife or a bomb or whatever he'd been able to sneak through that abortion of airport security. Do I hit him? Do I yell for help? Fuck. All this went through my mind in a matter of milliseconds, but it was too late, I hadn't reacted fast enough. His hand was inside the bag. He looked around one last time, the coast was clear. He pulled it out. A giant bottle of vodka, unscrewed the cap, and began chugging it like there was no tomorrow.

My jaw hit the floor. This guy wasn't a terrorist, he'd spent the whole time pining for his booze! (It's against regulations to drink outside alcohol on airplanes.) After swigging the bottle he looked at me, smiled and said "you want some?" I stared blankly for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. "Uhm... yeah" I managed to reply. From his backpack he produced two plastic cups. This guy had come prepared. While he poured out drinks for us both he noted "You're afraid of flying, too, yes? You looked nervous." I took a sip of the vodka, took a deep breath and relaxed.

The rest of the flight was without incident. Me, my new friend and a bottle of vodka sat and laughed and joked about the day's events. We made the usual small talk that people make on airplanes. He told me about his life in Norway as a Turkish immigrant, he was an IT specialist. He was Muslim, but clearly not any kind of Muslim I had ever encountered. We killed the bottle, landed safely in Berlin and went our separate ways. I don't even remember his name anymore, but I'll always remember that day; my seemingly endless voyage through the Norwegian countryside, braving the ice and snow on a lonely runway, and my new friend, who showed me what a judgmental, racist asshole I can be.

Friday, August 10, 2012

North American Tour Fall 2012

We’re extremely excited to announce we will be hitting the road this Fall with The Birthday Massacre and William Control. This is going to be one hell of a tour. Dates below!

10/31 – Peabody’s Downunder, Cleveland, OH.
11/01 – Bottom Lounge, Chicago, IL.
11/02 – Pike Room, Pontiac, MI.
11/03 – Miramar Theater, Milwaukee, WI.
11/04 - FUBAR, St. Louis, MO *
11/06 – Station 4, St. Paul, MN.
11/07 – Park Theatre, Winnipeg, MB.
11/09 – The Pawn Shop, Edmonton, AB.
11/10 – Dickens Pub, Calgary, AB.
11/13 – Studio Seven, Seattle, WA.
11/14 – Hawthorne Theater, Portland. OR.
11/15 – Slim’s, San Francisco, CA.
11/16 – Glasshouse, Pomona, CA.
11/17 – Vinyl, Las Vegas, NV.
11/18 – Underground, Mesa, AZ *
11/19 – Tricky Falls, El Paso, TX.
11/20 – The Door, Dallas, TX.
11/21 – The Korova, San Antonio, TX.
11/23 – The Masquerade, Atlanta, GA.
11/24 – The State Theatre, St. Petersburg, FL.
11/25 – The Social, Orlando, FL.
11/28 – Greene Street Music Hall, Greensboro, NC.
11/29 – Empire, West Springfield, VA.
11/30 – Upstairs @ The Palladium, Worcester, MA.
12/01 – Gramercy Theatre, New York, NY.
12/02 – Theatre Of Living Arts, Philadelphia, PA.

*William Control and Aesthetic Perfection Only

 Tickets can be found here: See you all soon!

Friday, June 1, 2012

Trainwrecked leaves ALL CITIES DESTROYED Tour

Trainwrecked has decided to leave the upcoming ALL CITIES DESTROYED TOUR. We cannot tell you why, because all we know is that Porcelain backed out at the last minute. Not only were we not given a reason, we weren't even given the courtesy of an email or phone call. This information came to us second hand. In the end, though, who cares!? We've got BlackOpZ with us for the entire tour now and we're more excited than ever to get out on the road. See you next week!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

New Video(s)

Over the last couple months, we've been alluding to the production of a new video. We had a (somewhat) ambitious plan and needed to find the right director to help us make it happen. After months of looking, we found a guy named Mitch Massie, a DIY filmmaker living all the way out in Evansville, Indiana. A couple of weeks back, Daniel and Tim headed out that way and spent four grueling days shooting not one, but two videos. What we've gotten back, we're happy to say, we're pretty proud of, we hope you like them, too. Enjoy!

All Beauty Destroyed:

A Nice Place to Visit:

Thursday, March 8, 2012

All Cities Destroyed

Aesthetic Perfection - All Cities Destroyed
US Tour with special guests: [X]-RX
6/08/2012 Philadelphia, PA - Starlight Ballroom
6/09/2012 New York, NY - Cybertron @ The Gramercy Theatre
6/10/2012 Baltimore, MD - Ottobar
6/11/2012 Richmond, VA - Fallout
6/13/2012 Atlanta, GA - The Shelter
6/15/2012 Austin, TX - Elysium
6/16/2012 Houston, TX - Numbers
6/17/2012 Dallas, TX - The Church
6/18/2012 El Paso, TX - House of Rock Live
6/20/2012 Denver, CO - Casselmans
6/21/2012 Las Vegas, NV - Klub Terminal @ Good Times
6/22/2012 Los Angeles, CA - Das Bunker
6/23/2012 Mexico City, MX - Multiformo SME
6/24/2012 San Francisco, CA - DNA Lounge
6/25/2012 Portland, OR - Hawthorne Theater
6/26/2012 Seattle, WA - El Corazon
6/27/2012 Vancouver, CA - The Red Room
6/29/2012 Calgary, CA - Dickens Pub
6/30/2012 Edmonton, CA - Starlite Room
7/03/2012 Minneapolis, MN - Ground Zero
7/04/2012 Madison, WI - Club Inferno
7/05/2012 Chicago, IL - Reggie's
7/06/2012 Dayton, OH - Aquarius
7/07/2012 Toronto, CA - Neu+Ral
7/08/2012 Detroit, MI - Necto
7/09/2012 Detroit, MI - Necto (Daniel Graves DJ Gig)
7/10/2012 Pittsburgh, PA - The Hideout

7/17/2012 Budapest, HU - A38
7/19/2012 Rozzano, IT - Theater Live
7/20/2012 Cervia Ra, IT - Rock Planet
7/22/2012 Cologne, DE - Amphi Festival
7/27/2012 Berlin, DE - Columbia Club
7/28/2012 Utrecht, NL - Summer Darkness Festival


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Drunken DJ'ing at it's best (or worst)

You can now download my DJ gig from Club Overdose in Salzburg, Austria from the Aesthetic Perfection Website in the Downloads section. The playlist is written below. Enjoy!

Set 1:

Combichrist - I Want Your Blood
Shiv-r - Pharmaceutical Grade
Suicide Commando - Hate Me
NOISUF-X - Jezebel (BT Remix)
X-RX - Bass and Percussion
Cyberpunkers - Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf Remix)
Innerpartysystem - American Trash
Deadmau5 - Hey Baby
KnifeParty - Internet Friends
Imperative Reaction - Side Effect
Icon of Coil - Shelter

Set 2:

Chemical Brothers - Believe
Belzebass - Du Auch
Pull Out Kings - Balls Really Deep
Deichkind - Remmi Demmi
Scooter - Lass Uns Tanzen
T. Raumschmiere - Brenner
Benny Benassi - I Am Not Drunk
Prodigy - Take Me to the Hospital
Skrillex - Kill Everybody
Knife Party - Tourniquet
Waxdolls - Spoiled Rich Bitches
Junkie XL - Cities in Dust
The Editors - Papillon
Falco - Vienna Calling