New Music From The CheeseBergens

Hey! I’ve been away for quite some time and I probably won’t be coming back on a regular basis any time soon. I’m just here for shameless self promotion.

Even though I am coming up on 50, I am still actively making a fool of myself performing in my family band The CheeseBergens. In fact, we have just released a new album and if you could take a listen, it would mean the world to me.

You can download the album for free at our Bandcamp link.

We also have a lyric video below. morecheeseplease (2)

New Video “Cool” by The CheeseBergens

Friends! It is a monumental day in CheeseBergens history! Please join us by watching this video premier! Take a moment to indulge in this guilty pleasure and watch myself and my family as we make fools of ourselves! Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you…”Cool”!


The Regrettes Record Release Party At The Echo

New year, new gig! I’m pretty excited about writing for this new online magazine, Degenerate News. Here is the first article I wrote for them. The members of The Regrettes actually all went to rock school with my son and are now signed to Warner Brothers so it’s pretty exciting. They also happen to be a great band.
Please take the time to read my review or at least click through to show there is readership, ha, ha! It will look good for me! Thanks! And let me know what you think of The Regrettes and the article.


Kill The Rat-Why Chuck E. Cheese Must Die!

The weekend rolls around again. The play dates have all been play dated, the movies have all been seen and there is NOTHING TO DO. “What do you want to do this weekend?” I ask my children hoping they will suggest something doable, affordable and tolerable, but they just shrug in that ever adorable childlike way and say, “I don’t know.” Friday afternoon turns into Friday evening and I ask the children again if there is anything they would like to do, hoping some words of wisdom to escape them, but the answer remains the same. It is almost bedtime when I finally say it. The words come out of my mouth in slow motion as if I am watching a train coming towards me but am powerless to move out of it’s way, “Would you like to go to Chuck E. Cheese?” And so I have sealed my fate.

Saturday afternoon arrives as I enter the third circle of hell. I am greeted by the smell of congealed cheese and sweaty feet. My sentence has begun. But although I have to ask a couple of the dads to hold me back from the kid who hovers over my son while he plays air hockey, a little too eager for his turn, or the toddler that seems to have no concept of personal space, finally an hour and a half has passed. I have done my duty as a parent and tell my children it is time to leave. Amazingly they agree and before I know it, I am on my way to the ticket muncher (ha,ha, she said muncher) and we are soon to be on our way.

But wait, WAIT!! An announcement comes over the loud speaker. Chuckie will be out soon to do a stupid dance and throw out some tickets in 3 minutes. “Can we stay?” my children ask. And of course I relent.

3 minutes turn into hours as I wait for the rodent to appear. Finally he emerges in all his glory. The floor is crowded with children of all ages doing the hokey pokey as they shuffle without sense or direction to the right and left, hurling into each other. A child clings to Chuckie’s legs for dear life, certain that this will secure him all the tickets he has ever dreamed of. The dance finally comes to a spectacular finale as a 16 year old boy comes out to release the tickets, sure to die of embarrassment if his homies should be passing by. He goes to throw the tickets out once, then twice, then three times, psyching the kids out with every motion. “For the love of God man” think I, “throw the tickets out and release me from this torture!”

Finally the tickets are thrown as a swarm of bodies hit the floor. It is a massacre that I can only look at through the spaces between my fingers that are now covering my eyes as, not only children, but mothers, fathers and even grandparents prepare to fight to the death for precious tickets sure to secure half a Tootsie Roll for their snot nosed offspring.

Satisfied with their winnings, my children are now ready to exit this arena of death and I breath a sigh of relief…until the next time I prepare to do battle in the Lair of The Rat. There is no doubt about it…Chuck E. Cheese must die.

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Cheesiest Heavy Metal Lyrics Ever

As a lover of heavy metal music, there are some lyrics so full of cheese, that they make me cringe to the point that they are banned, even from my shower repertoire, no matter how catchy the beat. But I suppose it’s par for the course. I mean, when pigeon holed by the topics of sex drugs and rock n’ roll, where do you really go from there?

Well, for instance you could improvise on the whole sex thing by incorporating prostitutes. I think Bon Jovi is one who really did that idea justice. That’s right, before Bon Jovi was out saving the world, he came up with this little gem. (Sorry to include all lyrics, but the whole thing was so precious I felt like it needed to be featured in all it’s glory.)

Well I wake up this morning I rolled out of bed
I felt like a dog who’s been kicked in the head
Checked out my mail there was letter that read
Love for sale, love for sale

I picked up the phone I called everyone I could
I let my fingers do the walking through the telephone book
You can’t catch a fish if you  got the hook

(what does this even mean??-Ed.)

Love for sale, love for sale

Send up a signal throw me a line
Somebody explain ” this funny Valentine”
It might not be legal but it sure ain’t a crime
I’m one step from crazy and two steps behind

I called Lt. Columbo from my TV set
I’ve tried the Dating Game I haven’t found her yet
I’m hoping that she’s looking like a Penthouse Pet
Love for sale, love for sale

But, you know, what’s really great is the foreign metal bands. How better to convey thoughts of sex drugs and rock n’ roll then by doing so in broken English. Here is Loudness, doing one better  for the prostitutes

You’ll understand
You’ll soon realize
I am destined
to burn in your cage

Get prepared
Don’t tell me you’re dreamin’

Look back Sexy woman
Sure you can’t see anything
Kiss me baby Please
Feel me right now!!
Wanna take you away and hold you tight
I am destined to burn in your cage

Get ready for this
Don’t tell me you’re dreamin’

(oooh who’s this lucky lady?-Ed.)

Other great examples of broken English metal include this gem by the Scorpions. Before they had a profound enough sense of the language to write a meaningful song like “Wind of Change” they came up with this work of art.


We’d like to introduce tonight
The Kings of a brandnew style
They are hungry to play
We’d like to introduce tonight
The new heavy steam rock style
Quite different and strange

Allright, how do you feel tonight
Get up to see and cry the name of the

Steam right with hands and feet tonight
Get up to see and cry and they will begin –
Here they are!

Steam rock fever,
Screaming rock believers
Steamrock fever in L.A.

But while we are talking cheesy heavy metal lyrics, I must give an honorable mention to the kings of cheese, Kiss. I probably could not single out one lyric from these silver tongued masters of perverted poetry but Keats might even roll over in his grave when Gene Simmons says “I wanna put my log  in your fireplace” in that oldie but goodie “Burn Bitch Burn”. Not to mention the amount of psychological investigation into whether it is indeed possible to rock n’ roll all night and party every day.

Before moving on to other genres of metal, I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t feature this profound piece by Def Leppard:

Make love like a man
I’m a man
That’s what I am, uh!

All you girls ’round the world
Lookin’ for a guy who’s a real go getter
Every guy grab a girl
Love her like a man, make her feel a lot better

You want it – I’m the one
I got it – I’m Mr. Fun
You need it – I’m Captain Cool, yeah
Come get it – And I’ve come for you C’mon

Don’t call me Gigolo
Don’t call me Cassanova
Just call me on the phone
And baby come on over
When you need someone
When you need someone to. . .

Make love like a man
I’m a man

(really? Because the last time I looked you were looking a bit Anne Wilson-esque. thanks for the clarification-Ed.)

And it just blows my mind that after a whole career of deliberately giving us nothing but cheese, Alice Cooper runs out of ideas, gets down to serious business, and manages to give us the real gouda with this anti-drug rant:

Hey bro, take it slow
You ain’t livin’ in a video
You’re flying low with a high velocity
No doubt, you’re stressin’ out
That ain’t what rock n’ roll’s about
Get off that one way trip down lonely street

But hey, these are the glam bands. They’re supposed to be cheesy right? So along comes the thrash bands like Metallica and Manowar and they’re going to put the meat back in metal. They’re going to write about war and fighting and give us metal intellectuals a little more bang for our bucks when it comes to lyrics. Right? So here comes Metallica with their first shot at redemption:

Bang your head against the stage
Like you never did before
Make it ring Make it bleed
Make it really sore

Um…. so  let’s try Manowar…

Manowar living on the road
When we’re in town speakers explode
We don’t attract wimps ’cause we’re too loud
Just true metal people that’s Manowar’s crowd

No? Mercyful Fate??

Upon a cross a nun will be hanged
She will be raped by an evil man
Knock spikes through her hands
Things will come she won’t understand

You’re a nun you haven’t had no fun
Living your life as virgin queen
I’m gonna change it and I’ll get it done
Tomorrow you won’t be a virgin queen

So…Venom… I mean surely they would…

“Get in our way, we’re going to take your life/Kick in your face and rape and murder your wife.” 

Okay then…

So for the grandaddy of them all, let’s pay a little visit to the hard rock spectrum of things and a little band that all of us like to affectionately (or maybe not so much) think of as Van Hagar. I guess we were all a bit annoyed when Eddie Van Halen dropped saucy lead singer David Lee Roth in honor of the Red Rocker, the man who couldn’t drive 55. That’s why it was such surprising news to me that Hagar actually left the band after Eddie Van Halen made him stoop down to a point where he had to lay down these lyrics. Geesh! Talk about cringing when you’re in the shower, imagine how Sammy felt when he had to record tracks on this one in the studio. Ladies and gentlemen, I leave you with the lyrics to “Humans Being”. Today, please take time to meaningfully reflect….

There is just enough Christ in me
To make me feel almost guilty
Is that why God made us bleed
To make us see we’re Humans Being?

You break this, I’ll break all that
You break my balls with all your crap
Spread your disease like lemmings breeding
That’s what makes us Humans Being

(Eddie Van Halen proves that despite his past he is still a man of God, (or almost), who can cuss like a 16 year old heavy metal bad boy…wow.-Ed.)

Calling All Rock Stars

1984 was a great year for music. I don’t know if George Orwell’s predictions of a dystopia had anything to do with it, but 1984, to me, stands out as a year when every heavy metal band would reach it’s pinnacle in creating the optimum LPs all captured on glorious vinyl. This year would be a climax of two decades or so, of previous hard rock and heavy metal glory.

Yes, I’m talking about the Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Metallica, and even you Motley Crue. The glorious rock stars of yesteryear.


Now let’s take a step forward and look at the state of music today. Where are all those heavy metal gods, the true rock stars.  Where are the larger than life bulges in the pants, the boys that look like girls and girls that look like boys? Sure I understand that all of this belongs to an error that has since died out. But what have we replaced it with? Sappy banjo playing preppies, mediocre PC nerds, pseudo disco hipsters, ultra sensitive emo kids with weird hair, or, if we’re lucky, bratty second rate punk bands. It’s no wonder that our children are still wearing our rock shirts and listening to our records, now so smartly available in CD format and apparently all over the internet.


Now back to the past. The year is 1985. Tipper Gore leads the PMRC, a committee of repressed housewives, dedicated to taking all the fun out of rock n’ roll. At the time, I did not see the PMRC as a huge threat, but rather an opportunity for rockers to unite and show how intelligent they truly were, while simultaneously proving the stupidity of said bored housewives who’s biggest victory seemed to be putting an easily ignorable label on albums warning of explicit lyrics and, ultimately, wanting us to buy the album EVEN MORE!!


But now, looking back on things, did Tipper Gore win? Surely more raunchy rock stars emerged since then, producing bawdy lyrics and hip grinds. But it seems it was all with a neatly packaged, glossy sheen, that has since disappeared completely to be replaced by a piece of metal, shrink rapped and presented, as if to say, “Here, buy me. This is what you should be listening to. You don’t need to think about anything at all.”

Indeed I feel sorry for young girls whose best wet dreams will prominently feature a Jonas Brother. And while Radiohead is hardly the worst band in the world, and while I understand the feelings of social inadequacy, probably better than anyone else, nobody is more of a creepy weirdo than Alice Cooper. And it’s highly unlikely that “Symptom of the Universe” had anything remotely to do with recycling.


So I conclude with an urgent plea to rockers of the world to put down your coffee cups, unite and rise with a thundering voice. To paraphrase Nora Roberts, “Rock n’ roll is restless, rude, defiant and daring. Once in a while, someone comes along who truly understands, who has the gift to transfer all those needs and emotions into music.”  Where is this person?  Banished to a bar band career because the record company is too afraid to unleash the raw emotions that constitute a rock star? Who will be our savior to deliver us from the corporate grindstone that rock n’ roll has now become?