A few months ago I was mildly intoxicated, standing outside a San Fernando Valley bowling alley when a friend asked if I wanted a ticket to see Cyndi Lauper’s True Colors Tour. How could I say no? I am the type of guy who needs a 12-step program to cure my addiction to live music.

So last night we made our way out to the Greek Theatre, which nearly burned down in a devastating fire last spring. I was grateful for another trip to this picture-perfect venue. Knowing only the hits of the artists involved, I really just expected to kick back under the stars, drinking some beers with my friends. Instead I got an entertaining reminder of something that really should be common sense by the year 2008 — the simple-to-comprehend fact that we are all equal.

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I never thought I would find myself in the middle of Times Square on a Saturday night (most non-tourists would agree that this isn’t the best place on a weekend to do, well, anything). Nevertheless, Sweetie’s EP release party for The Ten Worlds was curiously going down in the penthouse at Spotlight Live (a mammoth karaoke venue I’ve avoided like the plague), and I wasn’t going to let a few preconceived notions of hell on earth stop me from seeing my recent musical obsession perform live for the first time.

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Day one of the Hard Rock Calling music festival in London kicked off with unseasonably beautiful weather, i.e. no rain. The location for the fest in Hyde Park made for a beautiful backdrop for the show’s two stages.

In the mid-afternoon, Jason Mraz brought his sunny, laid-back jams to the main stage. Sporting an open white shirt, gray slacks and a black straw fedora, his California style seemed in tune with the day’s weather. Going along with that vibe, Mraz and his backing band strummed through a fun, free-spirited cover of Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” as well as the classic Seals and Crofts cut “Summer Breeze” and Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” (a.k.a. “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright”).

John Mayer picked up where Mraz left off, as the crowd began to pack in for the night’s headliner, Eric Clapton. Clapton’s influence on Mayer was obvious — the guitar virtuoso played through his catalog of blues hits, and also had some fun with the audience.

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In 1993 I walked from my parents’ house to the only music store in San Carlos, California. The store was called Rod’s Records Videos & Tapes, and on one warm summer day I slapped my hard-earned Hamilton down on the counter. In exchange for the cash that I had earned sweating away over the lawn mowing and bathroom cleaning, I was handed a cassette tape by Stone Temple Pilots called Core. I removed the shrink wrap, opened up the plastic case, threw that bad boy into my bright yellow Sony Sport Walkman, and headed home. Over the next few months, I would listen to that tape over and over and over again, each time wishing I was one of the DeLeo Brothers as I rocked out on the air guitar in the suburban bedroom I shared with my own brother.

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Buzz bands owe much to modern-day blog technology. So on behalf of the Internet, a big “You’re welcome” to some of its recent beneficiaries: Cool Kids, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and basically all of today’s growing artists.

And to Crystal Castles, you’re welcome too.

Perhaps one of the most talked … ehhh … blogged about bands at the moment, Crystal Castles bang harder than any boy/girl duo out there. It’s been said a thousand times over, but it’s damn impossible to ignore the urgent need to play an endless round of “Space Invaders” or the eponymous “Crystal Castles” once producer/multi-instrumentalist Ethan Kath slams down at his Atari-altered keyboard.

Running the indie-electro scene through a series of domineering blips, bleeps and bops, Crystal Castles’ recent success is as celebrated as it is confusing. Somehow, the Canadian duo have created an artificial sound that is driven by something organic, despite the band’s heavy reliance on keyboards and programming. And while their sound is in no way refined or unadulterated, Crystal Castles are truly in touch with what may be the only natural element in their live show: the fans.

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Calling anyone with free time on a Monday night in Los Angeles! I’ve been hearing a lot of buzz about free Monday-night shows at popular eastside venue the Echo, and last night I decided to go see what all the fuss was about. Turns out all that fuss was totally reliable and I happened to catch a show from one best L.A. bands I have seen in a really long time.

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Los Angeles is a diamond in a giant sea of vomit, feces and biological waste from one of the 5,694 rhinoplasty facilities this town has to offer. Oftentimes, the refuse can drag you down, making you forget that just past the fat removed from the backside of a 43-year-old Beverly Hills housewife is something truly beautiful and one of a kind. Last night, Death Cab for Cutie dove headfirst through the muck and mire to get to that diamond, and were considerate enough to share that swim with 7,100 of their closest friends who made it into the sold-out Nokia Theatre.

As I made the trek from the garbage-stained streets of Hollywood to the garbage-stained streets of downtown Los Angeles, I found myself concerned: where was the traffic? Why is it that I can take the 101 to the 110 on a Saturday afternoon and my trip takes an hour, but at rush hour it only took us 10 minutes? Did Jesus come back and I didn’t get the memo?

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Thievery Corporation seem to really function as a corporation. DJ duo Rob Garza and Eric Hilton might be the CEOs, but you know from listening to their multilayered music that there’s a lot more going on than just turntables.

And we do mean a lot. The pair shared the Hollywood Bowl stage Sunday night with at least six singers (including Jane’s Addiction frontman Perry Farrell and Brazilian artist Seu Jorge), a guitarist, a pack of drummers, a sitar player, a pair of reggae rappers, a keyboardist, a horn section, a belly dancer and other auxiliary entertainers who helped bring their eclectic sound to life.

The crowd went crazy for the group’s more recognizable songs (like “Lebanese Blonde,” which was featured on the “Garden State” soundtrack), but fans were on their feet for the whole show, dancing to music that ranged from bossa nova to reggae to lounge to whatever else these guys could come up with.

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A good rock festival is very similar to a good meal at a buffet. If planned correctly, you can get a nice sample of everything you love, try something new, and hopefully avoid items that you simply don’t agree with. As Southern California was hit with another day of record heat, I escaped 60+ miles up the coast from Hollywood to Ventura for the 2008 Vans Warped Tour, where the high was only 80, and a nice ocean breeze kept the crowd cool. Armed with a camera, VIP pass and a very empty stomach, I hit the pavement hard at Seaside Park, and left a very satisfied and fulfilled customer.

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New York’s Madison Square Garden was the place to be Thursday night, thanks to a brilliant performance by the legendary R.E.M. Featuring a lively light show, funky camera work relayed on projection screens, and a hefty dose of biting political commentary courtesy of singer Michael Stipe, the concert proved that the band still knows exactly how to hold a crowd’s attention.

Stipe was in top form throughout the night, dressed in a sharp suit while lithely dancing around the stage, smiling and occasionally making self-deprecating remarks. “This song is like from the year 1740,” he joked while introducing “Ignoreland” from 1992’s Automatic for the People, and at another point he even asked one of the audience members if he needed earplugs since he looked so “miserable.”

While R.E.M. did play a good amount of material from their latest album, Accelerate, they also threw in some old favorites and even some lesser-known tracks. The band actually played three songs from 1984’s Reckoning, with bass player Mike Mills singing and taking center stage for “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville.”

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