By: Evan J. Thomas

It usually happens quietly. A post on social media. A handwritten note on the door. Maybe one last show where the room feels heavier than usual not just from the amps, but from the realization that something irreplaceable is ending. A local music venue closes, and on the surface, it looks like just another business shutting down.  

But it’s never just that.

A venue isn’t just four walls and a stage. It’s an ecosystem, a scene, a gathering place. And when it disappears, the impact ripples far beyond the room where the music once lived and it is happening at a more alarming rate.  

For local and emerging bands, venues are everything. They’re proving grounds. They’re where bands learn how to perform, connect, fail, improve, and build a following. When a venue closes, it removes one of the few accessible entry points into the live music world.

Suddenly, there are fewer stages. Fewer opportunities. Fewer chances to be seen.  That means new bands struggle to get their first shows, mid level acts fight harder for limited slots and touring bands skip the area or city entirely.  

Momentum slows. Growth stalls. Scenes shrink.  

What or who is to blame?  The aftermath of covid?  The high ticket prices?  Lack of interest?  Oversaturation of  bands?  Distance?  Crappy management and booking people?  Maybe a bit of all the above. 

Behind every show is someone making it happen... local promoters, talent buyers, and independent organizers. When a venue closes, their entire operation is disrupted.

They lose a reliable space, built in audiences and a trusted staff and infrastructure of a local music scene. Rebuilding that from scratch isn’t easy. Some pivot. Some relocate. Some disappear altogether. And when they go, they take relationships, connections, and opportunities with them.

​A venue supports more than just musicians. It feeds into the local economy in ways that often go unnoticed until they’re gone.  Think about a single show night.  Bartenders, security, sound and lighting engineers, and door staff are working.  Nearby restaurants and bars see increased traffic. Rideshare drivers, parking attendants, and local shops benefit.  Multiply that by dozens or hundreds of events per year, and the impact becomes clear. When the venue closes, that steady flow of economic activity dries up and not only does it hurt the music scene, it hurts the local economy.  

Local venues are cultural anchors. They give a city identity. They create scenes. They’re where communities form where people find “their place.”  I personally have a few favorite venues that I frequent and they all have their own unique style that makes them a desirable destination. 
Take that away, and something intangible disappears.  A sense of belonging, a hub for creativity, a space for expression.  Scenes don’t just relocate overnight. They fracture. People drift. Energy dissipates.
Without venues, there’s no pipeline.  Today’s local opener is tomorrow’s headliner but only if they have somewhere to play. When young artists don’t have access to stages, fewer of them stick it out. The barrier to entry becomes too high, too frustrating, too limiting. That means fewer bands, fewer risks, fewer voices. And eventually, fewer breakthroughs.
Cities often underestimate the value of independent venues until they’re gone. What looks like a small closure is actually a long-term loss in cultural capital.  A strong music scene attracts tourism, draws in creative industries, enhances the city’s reputation and without it, a city becomes quieter not just in sound, but in identity.

The closure of a local venue isn’t just an isolated event. It’s the start of a chain reaction that affects artists, workers, businesses, and entire communities.
It’s easy to take these spaces for granted when they’re there. But once they’re gone, rebuilding what they represented is exponentially harder than keeping them alive in the first place.
Because at the end of the day, venues don’t just host music, they host history, they host memories.  The venues are the place that creates it.

By: Evan J. Thomas

What a time I had in Las Vegas, yes I know thats something most anyone says who goes to Vegas but in this instance its was different.  The music industry congregated for #HAPPENS 2026, a three-day event that brought together artists, radio professionals, labels, and music executives into Sin City from February 25–27. #Happens was a gathering for music, community, and discovery, the annual gathering intermixed industry conversations with live showcases and networking opportunities that helped connect the people shaping the future of rock and alternative music.
Held at various locations of Downtown Las Vegas, the event featured panels, artist performances, label presentations, and intimate conversations with some of the most influential voices in the music world. Attendees participated in daytime discussions on topics shaping the industry—from new technology and AI in music to artist development and the evolving relationship between radio and streaming.
One of the biggest highlights of #HAPPENS for me was hearing from those in the industry and the incredible nightly showcases within walking distance from Fremont Street.   An eclectic variety of music from up and coming bands like Magi, the raucous The Barbarians of California who put on a performance so epic that about 1/4 of the floor blew up into a mosh pit.  That band tore up Thursday night.  Other bands that I had a pleasure taking in was Red Voodoo, The Codefendants, Kurt Deimer (former client of mine with TAG Publicity).  
The acoustic performances blew me away as Linda Perry of 4 Non Blondes took us back with a few of her grammy winning songs like "Beautiful" (written for Christina Aguilera) and her 90's throwback "Whats Up".  Other incredible acoustic performances were from Return To Dust and The Nocturnal Affair.  

The conversations with Magnolia Park, LYLVC, Mike Ness (Social Distortion) & Matt Pinfield and the highlight of the week for me was Brent Smith and Zach Myers of Shinedown playing 4 songs off of their upcoming album "Eight" due out May 29.   Having meet and greets along with photos taken with everyone was such a great experience. 
My Thursday night after the performances took us to a place called Double Down Saloon where we had a shot called "Ass Juice".  The people I hung out with that night along with my friends in the industry made this event one of the greatest showcases i've attended.  #HAPPENS 2026 was mindblowing and i'm excited to see what they have in store for 2027.  

By: Dan Sindel

They say rock is dead.

They say the audience aged out. That hip hop, rap, and country own the charts now. That guitar driven music had its moment and it’s over. And honestly? Sometimes when I look at the industry, I understand why people think that.

I teach guitar. Twenty years ago, if I asked a room full of students who wrote “Satisfaction,” every hand would go up for The Rolling Stones. Now? You can hear a pin drop. They know the riff. That riff is immortal. But they can’t name the band. That’s not just trivia. That’s cultural memory fading in real time. And yet… when I show them their first real riff, when their fingers finally press down hard enough and the guitar responds, their face changes. The smile says everything. In that moment, rock isn’t dead. It’s being reborn.

When I was 14, Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin made me trade my trumpet for a guitar. His songwriting felt limitless. Jimi Hendrix sounded like he beamed in from another dimension and rewrote the rules. They didn’t ask permission. They didn’t conform. Even George Carlin and Cheech & Chong taught me that rebellion and humor go hand in hand. Mad Magazine shaped my cynical edge and I still hand-animate all my music videos because creativity shouldn’t be boxed in. Rock was never meant to be polite.

As long as I’m alive, I’m keeping rock alive. Not because it’s trendy. Because it’s truth. Because when someone walks up after a show and tells me my guitar playing blew their mind, I see that spark. Because when a student starts a band after learning their first riff, I know this thing still breathes.

Just be honest. Don’t let others shape your narrative. Stay true to your convictions.
Do you really think rock is dead… or has it just been waiting for the next generation to plug in? Tell me what you think.

RESPONSE BY PHILIP SAYBLACK
Rock (and metal, even) is not dead. This is really a multi-faceted thing.  On the one hand is the role of the media. There have been a number of doctoral theses on this topic. Higher ups at the corporate classic rock stations refuse to play new music from bands that are now considered "classic rock" and so do the active rock stations.

Let's also look at the matter of said rock stations overall. In the market where I live, there are ZERO terrestrial active rock stations. There is ONE classic rock station and on that station all you hear is the same crap over and over again. If I or others in this market want to hear that new rock and metal we have to go to YouTube or spotify (or one of those other outlets such as Deezer and Apple Music). Most of what's around here is country music and urban music. It's sad.

On a related note, the "death" of MTV ALSO plays into this. When MTV was around, the use of videos got rock and metal acts plenty of attention. Ever since the network dropped its music programming, which for decades was its heart and soul, that really hurt the rock and metal communities. So THAT plays into this, too.

This plays hugely into today's young audiences who wear bands' shirts but cannot even name three songs from said bands (as proven by Jared Dines. Jared, if you read this, please, dude let's get a conversation on this, too.)

Even with all of this in mind, rock and metal are still alive and well despite the view from above. The audiences are there and have always been there. The issue is that the attention needs to be given to acts big and small alike. That means word of mouth more than anything. Today's independent act is tomorrow's big act as long as the word gets out there enough.
As long as we, the rockers and metalheads stay united and show in strength, our support for the community in whole, rock and metal will never die.

On a related note, all of this goes back to one of my favorite movies that I have highlighted in my ongoing series, Phil's Picks' Must-See Standalone Movies, "Airheads." This movie is a direct commentary on how rock and metal have been relegated to the role of the red headed stepchild by the broadcast media. Again, media support and the lack thereof. Go figure, it bombed in the theater, but true rock and metal fans will get it and understand its importance.

I'll add some more to the discussion: Rock and metal to this day still have the stigma attached to them that they're just loud, angry music. This despite real sociological studies that have proven the positive therapeutic role of rock and metal in the lives of its audiences. People sadly still have the believe that it's just a bunch of distortion and screaming.

The screaming is that therapeutic release. It is getting out those emotions. I know all too well. When I'm upset or down, the screaming turns my sadness to anger and the anger is in turn released through the music. So there you go.

Ironically, so much pop music and urban music has so much sexualized content and same old same old content about relationships. It makes no sense. the thing is....at least I believe....that because the music is "happier" it is more accessible and in turn resonates more with a wider audience who refuse to accept the positive of the anger in rock and metal. So there is that, too, that stigma.
This goes right back again to what I've said. It's about word of mouth. Case in point: I've said all this before in my own stuff....

Sabaton: Songs about global military history
Ice Nine Kills: Songs inspired by horror movies
Evergrey: has written an entire concept album about the dangers of cults
Hatebreed: Empowering music inspiring self confidence

Machine Head: This band has been one of the most crucial in my life. Songs, such as 'All In Your Head,' The Blood The Sweat The Tears," 'Kick You When You're Down,' 'Imperium,' 'Wipe The Tears,' 'World Crashing Down' are all empowering works that delve into mental health. The band has even addressed drug addition, with 'Only The Names.'
Queensrÿche, like so many bands out there, has crafted songs loaded with social and political commentary. That mass includes even legendary thrash acts, such as Testament, Lamb of God and Exodus.

By: Evan J. Thomas

Every generation of music faces a technological turning point. Electric guitars were once called noise machines. Synthesizers were accused of killing “real” musicianship. Digital recording was supposed to sterilize sound. Now the spotlight is on artificial intelligence — and the question echoing across studios, stages, and comment sections is loud and clear:
Will AI overtake the human element in making and performing music?
Short answer: No.

The noise around artificial intelligence in music keeps getting louder. AI can generate songs, clone voices, compose arrangements, produce mixes, and spit out entire catalogs of genre-specific tracks in minutes. Tech headlines call it “the future of music creation.” Industry panels debate disruption. Comment sections predict replacement.  Most bands hate it and despise it, many PR agencies won't touch AI artists and its understandable.

But step away from the hype cycle and into a rehearsal room, a recording studio at 2 a.m., or a packed venue right before the lights drop — and a different truth becomes obvious:
The music industry doesn’t run on output. It runs on humanity.
And that’s exactly why it still belongs to humans.

​AI builds from patterns.  Artists build from experience.  Every real song has fingerprints on it — emotional, psychological, and cultural. It comes from somewhere: a breakup, a protest, a collapse, a rebirth, a belief, a question that wouldn’t go away. Even party records come from a real need for release and connection.

AI doesn’t need anything. It doesn’t ache. It doesn’t celebrate. It doesn’t doubt itself. It doesn’t grow through failure. It doesn’t write songs to survive a moment in life. It generates structure without stakes. Human artists create with something to lose — and something to say. That tension is where art lives.

Music doesn’t just fill playlists — it builds movements.  Scenes form around shared identity and shared resistance. Rock, metal, punk, hip-hop, blues — none of these were born from optimization. They were born from friction with the status quo. From voices that didn’t fit the template.

AI can reflect culture after it exists. It cannot ignite it in the first place — because cultural ignition requires point of view, risk, and consequence. It requires someone willing to stand behind the sound and say, this is who I am.  Look at artists like Tom Morello, Rise Against and Dropkick Murphy's. AI algorithms don’t take stands.  Artists do.

If recorded music is the blueprint, live performance is the truth test.  Onstage, there is no buffer. No regeneration button. No prompt revision. It’s breath, muscle memory, adrenaline, and instinct. It’s the singer adjusting because the crowd is louder than expected. The guitarist extending a solo because the room is locked in. The band tightening or exploding based on the energy exchange in real time.

A live show is a conversation — not a calculation.  It's the human element of music.

Crowds don’t show up just to hear songs reproduced. They show up to witness commitment. Presence. Risk. Personality. The possibility that something unrepeatable might happen tonight and never again. AI can simulate performance. It cannot be present. And presence is the currency of the stage.

The industry often talks about polish. Fans talk about moments.
The cracked high note that hits harder than the perfect one.
The tempo push in a chorus that makes it explode.
The voice strain that proves the lyric is real.
The off-script rant that becomes iconic.
AI trends toward smoothness and statistical correctness. But what listeners remember are the scars — audible proof that a human being pushed past their limits to deliver something honest.
Perfection is impressive. Imperfection is relatable. Relatable wins careers.

The music industry is not just songs — it’s ecosystems of relationships:
Artist ↔ Fan
Band ↔ Band
Artist ↔ Producer
Performer ↔ Crowd
Scene ↔ Identity

Fans don’t just stream tracks. They follow journeys. They invest emotionally in artists’ growth, setbacks, reinventions, and comebacks. They read interviews, wear merch, travel to shows, defend albums, debate eras and bitch about music on social media.

No one emotionally invests in a generator.  They invest in a human story. Remove the human — and you don’t just change the product. You collapse the relationship layer that makes the
industry function.

Every era brings tools that change process:
Multitrack recording.
Drum machines.
Digital audio workstations.
Sample libraries.
Auto-tune.

Each one sparked panic. None replaced artists. The ones who mattered learned how to use the tools without becoming owned by them.  AI will follow the same path.

Smart artists will use it to brainstorm, prototype, design sounds, and accelerate workflow — while keeping authorship, identity, and intent firmly human. The tool will evolve. The driver still matters. A distortion pedal doesn’t make you a guitarist. AI doesn’t make you an artist.

In a 1969 interview, The Doors Jim Morrison accurately predicted the future of music, suggesting it would move away from bands toward electronic, machine-driven soundscapes. He famously stated: “I can kind of envision maybe one person with a lot of machines, tapes, and electronic setups, singing or speaking and using machines."  I assure you Morrison wasn't talking about the incarnation of AI.. 

The heart of heavy music — and much of modern music culture — is rebellion. Against formulas. Against expectations. Agains safe choices.

AI is built from existing material and weighted probability. It is, by nature, conservative in its core mechanics — even when it produces surprising combinations.

But breakthroughs come from people doing the “wrong” thing on purpose.
Wrong genre blend.
Wrong structure.
Wrong subject.
Wrong sound — until it becomes the next right one.

Rebellion requires intent. Intent requires a will. Will is human. AI will get faster. More convincing. More integrated. It will absolutely become part of music workflows across the industry.

But overtaking art is not about capability — it’s about connection. Music that lasts is not the most efficient. It’s the most felt.

As long as audiences crave truth over texture, presence over perfection, and identity over imitation, the center of the music industry will remain here it has always been:
With the humans who dare to make noise that means something.
​
Not in the machine — but in the makers. 🤘

 By: Kat Gullage

Or PIT-iquette. After reviewing 80 bands, and seeing 91, in 2025, it feels like the right time to discuss mosh pit manners and best practices. How to survive and enjoy the chaos.
There are different types of pits, each with its own unwritten rules. A Circle Pit has us moshing around in a circle with people darting through the open space sporadically. A Push Pit is more chaotic, bodies bouncing, pushing and colliding in an unstructured zone. If a Wall Of Death type pit starts to form, I’m getting the fuck out of there before the crowd splits into opposing sides, leaving an empty aisle in between, and then charges directly at each other on the band’s cue. Crowd Surfing is when someone is passed overhead by the congregation below.

Understand this, the moment you step into the pit, you’ve agreed, implicitly, that you’re aware one could break out anywhere at any time. Yes, you might be on what I refer to as The Fray, the area just outside the main action, but if you’re not playing defense, ya might get sacked.

The most important rule is non-negotiable: if someone goes down, pick them up! Always. Give them a hand! We’re all there for the same reason. If someone is truly injured, alert security. We’ve all seen the ambos outside of the venue, first aid is available.

We packed in close quarters, so let’s address hygiene. Please try to smell halfway decent. If ya don’t have time to clean up before the concert, at least reapply deodorant. And I beg you, pop a tums or something. The vile farts that force the rest of us gag and cover our faces with our shirts, which doesn’t even begin to protect us from the rancidness, certainly does not enhance our experience.

Know your limits with alcohol and drugs. I’ve seen people go down early, putting themselves in a vulnerable position, ruining the event for them and their friends, and above all missing the freaking show! I’ve overdone it on occasion and I’m lucky to have friends who look out for me. That’s part of the culture too.

And one more thing:Don’t Commit Sexual Assault. That’s the reason I quit crowd surfing. There’s a clear difference between accidentally brushing a body part while helping pass someone overhead and forcefully grabbing someone’s crotch and butt simultaneously. That behavior is not acceptable, and not part of the community. If y’all choose to crowd surf, watch out for possible pervs. Consider yourselves warned.

Different bands bring different pit energies. Avatar shows feature plenty of cordial crowd surfing. Alien Weaponry can unleash a Wall of Death. Fluids might be hurled at you at GWAR. Chevelle consistently delivers hardcore pits. I’ve been hit at every single one I’ve been in.

The first one had these Gronkowski type frat boys behind me. They put one guy on each side holding up the third guy. But they started too far back in the crowd. As they surged forward, the hoisted guy fell and kicked me in the head on his way down. The next gig had a lovely, but drunk and built like a linebacker, glamazon lady trying to get a pit going. She slammed into random guys and they took it like annoyed champs. She stumbled and fell back on me and pushed me back twelve fuckin rows. Crashing into the people standing up behind me saved me from injury. The 2025 Chevelle show topped them all. A young guy in the circle pit went down a few times but was scooped up and righted immediately. As it should be. Then he got slammed into a muscly backward baseball hat wearing kid camped out in The Fray. Mr Muscly snapped and started throwing punch after punch. I tried to pull muscly off him but others had to step in. Security escorted muscly out and the victim was eventually able to return. Later I found myself in The Fray and somehow ended up next to Mr Stick Up His Ass who kept elbowing me. I let it go the first coupla times. I asked him to please stop. He didn’t. I reminded him that he was in the pit and might get touched. Eventually I took a hit that plowed me into him and he shoved me as hard as he could into the crowd. I warned him that if the kid I was with got hurt in any way, we’d have a
problem. His friends pulled him away. Turn around and the kid with me is at the barricade. After I joined her up there I had a lot of bodies coming directly at me from the crowd surfers. I dealt with it. Cuz I know the rules.

I’m a concert reviewer and I prefer to be in the pit. That’s where you feel the crowd’s pulse and truly observe the performers. I work with a concert photographer, most often the future award winning Holly Borden. She handles credential requests and access. If we get green lighted, we grab our passes at the venue. They know us at our frequent haunts but if it’s a new place we just tell security we’re there to work the event and they tell us where to go or turn us over to an escort. The photographers are sequestered at bigger arenas. They are only allowed to shoot a certain number of songs. The size of the area allotted for photogs varies per venue from non-existent to generous to so narrow not even sucking in your gut helps. Keep in mind there’s usually other shutterbugs jockeying around in that space as well. Working with her makes me mindful of lighting conditions and there are shows where I genuinely don’t know how she captured anything (Looking at you Seether!) Holly is the real deal, she sticks around for the whole show, whereas some photographers leave when their shots are done. I have to stay to document the experience and get the scoop!

So here’s the takeaway:
​
Pick people up when they fall.
Try to smell halfway decent - and don’t crop dust us.
Don’t be an asshole. If you don’t want to be touched or bumped, the pit isn’t for you.
Be respectful.
Know your party limits.
Have fun - but be safe!:

By Philip Sayblack
​
Rock fans had lots to cheer this year in regard to new music.  This year saw veteran rock acts, such as Styx, Finger Eleven, Spin Doctors, and Buckcherry return with new music alongside Chevelle and the Michael Schenker Group while newer acts, such as Ryan Cosmonaught and The Speaker Wars also released some interesting music in their own right.  That is just a taste of all that rock fans had to appreciate this year.  Keeping that in mind, this critic has assembled a list of the year’s top new rock albums.  Instead of just posting the standard Top 10 list, this critic is adding in five honorable mention titles, as there was simply that much notable new music even from the rock community.  To that end, here for your consideration is this critic’s list of the year’s Top 10 New Rock Albums.
2025 Top 10 New Rock Albums
1.      Ricky Byrd – NYC Made
2.      Set It Off – Set It Off
3.      Buckcherry – Roar Like Thunder
4.      Finger Eleven – Last Night on Earth
5.      Styx – Circling From Above
6.      Spin Doctors – Face Full of Cake
7.      L.A. Guns – Leopard Skin
8.      Thunder Mother – Dirty & Divine
9.      Chevelle – Bright as Blasphemy
10. Danko Jones – Leo Rising


2025 Rock Honorable Mentions
1.The Squirts – III
2. Ryan Cosmonaught – Stars Are Coming
3. Michael Schenker Group – Don’t Sell Your Soul
4. Jizzy Pearl’s Love/Hate – Punk Rock Fiesta
5. Ronnie Romero -- Backbone

By: Philip Sayblack

2025 has been a banner year for the hard rock and metal community.  Notable new releases from the likes of Dream Theater, Machine Head, Testament, and so many others both well-known and slightly lesser-know have made this year so great.  Considering the sheer breadth of notable new hard rock and metal albums, making a standard list of the year’s top 10 new albums in said category is next to impossible to compose.  So, rather than shoot for that list, this critic will, as in years past, attempt a list of the year’s Top 10 new hard rock and metal albums, with five additional honorable mentions.
It should be noted that those honorable mentions are no less important and impressive than the other albums.  Absolutely no disrespect is meant toward those albums and the bands that created them.  To that end, here for your consideration is this critic’s list of 2025’s Top 10 New Hard Rock and Metal albums:
2025 Top 10 New Hard Rock/Metal Albums
1.      Dream Theater – Parasomnia
2.      Between The Buried and Me – The Blue Nowhere
3.      Defecto --  Echoes of Isolation
4.      Machine Head – Unatoned
5.      Testament – Para Bellum
6.      Arch Enemy – Blood Dynasty
7.      Sabaton – Legends
8.      Grave Digger – Bone Collector
9.      Rage – A New World Rising
10. Whitechapel – Hymns in Dissonance


2025 Top New Hard Rock/Metal Albums Honorable Mention
1.      Steve Dadain – Revenant City
2.      Helloween – Giants & Monsters
3.      Primal Fear – Domination
4.      Pop Evil – What Remains
5.      Bloodywood – Nu Delhi