Among the many photos in our Mayhem Festival hits Denver slideshow, these two portraits were shot by photographer Aaron Thackeray. From their style alone, this couple seems made for each other. Denver metal community, can you please introduce these two to each other for us?!?! (Let us know how it goes.)

Aaron Thackeray

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Yesterday, Eryc Eyl discussed Michael Trundle's debut remix. Today, he delves into Trundle's musical background a bit and unveils the remix itself.

"The entire song is there," says Trundle, with a hint of pride. "In some places, it's separated by some beats, but it's all there." The DJ is now working on a treatment of the Pixies classic, "Hey," and he says he'll be taking the same approach with that track. "These are songs I love," he says. "It'd be kind of a shame and an insult to the artists to not include the whole song. I want all those lyrics present. I want Danzig to hear it and not completely hate my guts."

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Michael Trundle (aka boyhollow)

​A couple weeks ago at Monolith pre-party, something new and unexpected caught my ear, a track Michael Trundle (aka boyhollow) played as he warmed up the crowd for the Cool Kids at the Gothic Theatre. It was an electrified, dancefloor-friendly version of the classic Danzig tune, "Mother." Instantly recognizable, the remix had me singing along, throwing up devil horns and dancing like an ecstasy-fueled rave monkey. As I looked around the floor, I noticed I wasn't the only one responding. The entire front of the Gothic was bouncing and screaming "Mother!" at the top of its lungs. At the end of the set, Trundle revealed that he had created the remix -- his first -- and all I could do was grin.
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Soren McCarty

​Most years, I make it up to Red Rocks for just one show. It has to be a real occasion -- something to make it worth the drive, the parking, the overpriced beers and the difficulty of escaping once the show is over. Two years ago, I made the journey for Ozomatli, and I left when the headliner, Los Lonely Boys, launched into its onanistic set. Last year, it was Daft Punk, I think. This year, I thought Leonard Cohen was going to be the one show worth the hassle -- one beautiful, magical, once-in-a-lifetime moment up in the hills to catch a performer I've longed to see for more than twenty years. Turns out I was wrong. Tonight, I'm heading up for the third time this summer, so far.

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​I have this friend in town, a DJ who has been making music for a very long time and absolutely loves Denver. He played in hardcore bands back in the day and can wax nostalgic for hours about cruising down from his teenaged home in Evergreen to explore the underground punk scene. Nowadays, he's a pretty successful DJ who gets to do things other DJs dream of -- like touring with rappers, playing huge parties in places like Las Vegas, New York and LA, and actually making a living. And even though my buddy still returns to his Denver home every chance he gets, he still thinks there's something fundamentally wrong with our city's scene that limits an artist's ability to find his fans. What is it?

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​Musicians have plenty of frustrations to contend with. Between dealing with their haters and detractors, and banging their heads against the unyielding wall that stands between their artistic efforts and some kind of meaningful financial reward, the battle can be downright exhausting. Sometimes, however, the most difficult thing about being an artist can be finding your audience - not for cynical, commercial gain, but because you know there just have to be folks out there who would really get some joy out of what you're doing - if only they knew you existed. This frustration can even exist within a relatively small community like Denver.

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As I've mentioned once or twice in this blog, I occasionally DJ around town, under a pseudonym. I use a pseudonym because I want to make it clear that Eryc Eyl, the DJ, operates in a musical universe that is completely different from the one inhabited by Eryc Eyl, the music critic. We are, in some ways, separate individuals. My deejaying has very little to do with my writing. It's an outlet for a completely different relationship with music. I rarely play the hippest, hottest underground releases, break new artists or balance on the bleeding edge of indie obscurity. My sets lean heavily on mash-ups, covers, '80s cheese, dirty raps and whatever else it takes to get people in a bar to dance, laugh or smile. I might have been listening to obscure death metal or kiwi pop all day, but when I set up my humble rig, the first track out is more likely to be Too Short or one of Mad Mix Mustang's absurd mashes than it is to be Phoenix or any other Pitchfork favorite. When I DJ, I pander. I placate. I wallow in the muck of pop culture. I wink at people a lot, which is probably a little creepy.

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3OH!3 has officially achieved ubiquity. The duo performed live yesterday on MTV's It's On with Alexa Chung. The guys are featured among people.com's hottest bachelors. Oh, and in actual music news, "Don't Trust Me" has reached the number five spot on Billboard's top 40 chart. As the Boulder ballers -- due at this year's Mile High Music Festival in addition to embarking on another go round on the Warped Tour, followed by a slot at the Reading & Leeds festival in late August -- unleash "Starstrukk," the next single from their major label debut, Want, "Don't Trust Me" gets the remix treatment from Cleveland hip-hopper Kid Cudi. Nat Motte unveiled the remix last night. Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.

You've had the experience. You're driving in the car or Pandora-ing or even - gasp! - listening to the radio when that song comes on - the one you can't believe you forgot all about. Instantly, you're transported in time and space - back to that kegger during your freshman year when you got so drunk that you lost your shoes. Or to that high school dance where you got dumped by the vending machines. Or to your wedding, the birth of your child, your divorce. I've written before about the Proustian power of music -- and so has Dave Herrera -- but over the past week or so, I've been overwhelmed by it. Nostalgia isn't quite the word for it. That word connotes positive - even idealized - longing for the past. This is something entirely different.

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Denver-based photographer Gary Isaacs has just unveiled a 78-page collection of photographs of one of this city's best-loved bands, Slim Cessna's Auto Club. The book includes some truly striking black-and-white on- and off-stage shots of Slim, Munly and the gang from the past few years, as well as snippets of Auto Club lyrics. You can get a glimpse of the book and pick up a copy from Isaacs's website. Copies will also be available on the band's July tour, including a stop at the Larimer Lounge on July 15.