Friday you have boundless energy. Saturday you’re crisp from the sun and mildly hoarse, but you’ve still got your legs underneath you. Sunday, however, is when the battle is won or lost; when true heroes are made (or broken) on the grassy proving ground of the Indio desert. It’s Day Three. Do you know where you parked your car?
White Men Could Jump…Now Just Dubsteps. Once upon a time in jolly ol’ England, Gary McCann was a promising basketball star. Like all stars though, it eventually ran its course and sadly burned out. But, in its place, a ghost named “Caspa” was manifest and now bounces a different beat intent on dribbling your eardrums. While listening to this poltergeist murder the crowd at HARDfest this past weekend in Los Angeles, I could see that there was definitely no one reaching for a phone to call you know who.