September 7, 2012 – The first thing you hear is the screams. They shatter the air for blocks and never pause for breath. Imagine an infinite helium wail. A brutal hymn of unsexed adolescent euphoria, so high-pitched it could deafen your dog. They're audible a half mile from the Staples Center, the Lakers arena that doubles as the death star for the 2012 Video Music Awards. You can't see the object of their affection, but if you close your eyes, you can almost feel the concrete quivering to the unflappable rhythms of an ersatz Calvin Harris rave. Open them and observe the neon. Recoil at the torrent of teenaged girls stuffed into outfits every color of the day-glo. There are streams of Snookis. "Trill" rivulets of amateur Amber Roses rocking skirts so short they could pass for scarves. Animal prints and saline implants. Half of them wear sunglasses in shades that Crayola hasn't even considered.

February 13, 2012 – At the Grammys, the security guards are your enemy. Under no circumstances, should you make eye contact with any of them. It's a sign that you are an interloper and belong with the sad-sack 17-year-old groupies surrounding the Staples Center perimeter on Sunday night. If you're going to successfully sneak inside, it's imperative to pretend like you belong. Stare intently at your cell phone. Strut with serene confidence. Never stop moving. If a guard grunts in your direction, ignore them. Provided you are wearing a lanyard, any lanyard, they will not grab you. It's too risky. What if you're someone famous? And should anyone ask who I am tonight, I will solemnly answer: "Argyle Frampton, the bassist in Bon Iver." I haven't shaved in four days and I am wearing plaid. My alibi is airtight. A more valid question: Why would I want to sneak into the Grammys?

September 9, 2011 – Detroit rapper Danny Brown smokes two blunts every morning, but that's not excessive. After all, he's the self-proclaimed "Adderall admiral" -- a profane, pill-popping ex-crack dealer with a love of Sufjan Stevens and nasally nail-gun raps. Hearing him tell it, though, after lighting up a Swisher Sweet on a sunstroked summer morning in West Hollywood, things are nicely even-keeled at the moment. This year, Brown signed to Fool's Gold Records, after three celebrated mixtapes that included collaborations with Lil B, underground king Black Milk, and Tony Yayo. Even 50 Cent became a fan. "50 Cent's a songwriter," says Brown. "He understood and liked my music, but he didn't understand me." Looking at Brown, 30, it's easy to see where some confusion might arise. He's wearing a teal sweater, white skinny-jean cutoffs, and Air Jordans.

June 23, 2009 – America, meet your new goth rock queen: pale and plangent-voiced ex-American Idol star Carly Smithson, who has joined with three former members of Evanescence -- including co-founder/principal songwriter Ben Moody -- to form a new band, We Are the Fallen. Hey, say what you want about Moody, at least he has a type -- when it comes to frontwomen. After a 2003 falling out with Evanescence's raven-haired, iron-fisted singer Amy Lee, Moody, the chief songwriter behind the band's 15 million-selling Fallen, spent half the decade working with high-profile collaborators including Celine Dion, Avril Lavigne, and American Idol stars Kelly Clarkson and Chris Daughtry.