Wednesday night was the White Stripes show at the Fillmore and all I can say is that if I wanted to see Led Zeppelin I would go and hunt down Robert Plant.
OK, that's not all I can say. In fact, I'll say this - they really sounded great. I loved how Jack White moved around between the various microphones on the stage and I loved how Meg White looked like a punk rock, stoned-out, black-pigtailed Strawberry Shortcake. I think it's amazing that such a big sound can come from two people - and when they powered their way through songs such as "We Are Gonna Be Friends", "Apple Blossom" and their pretty, haunting cover of Dolly Parton's "Jolene" it was the stuff rock'n'roll dreams are made of.
However - and unfortunately - much of the night was noodled away by way of several self-indulgent jammy guitar solos. Now, don't get me wrong, I agree with SF Chronicle reviewer Neva Chonin (whom I respect quite a bit) on her observation that Jack White is very charasmatic, but I don't agree with the gist of her review:

"It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Every decade has its defining sound, and the White Stripes might well be honing one for the first 10 years of the 21st century. When and if they do, they'll take the last century's musical legacy with them and make it sing again in a voice as familiar as it is unique.

I don't think they're honing anything. I could have tolerated - no enjoyed a guitar solo or two or even three - but the night seemed to quickly spiral out of control.
When the White Stripes do the straight-ahead rock/pop/garage stuff they truly shine, but when it goes into Jam Land it becomes trite and boring. That set could have easily been trimmed down by thirty minutes and I'll bet you my entire record collection that nobody would have complained. I'd like to see them again sometime - for a set when they're not allowed to play indefinitely (and when they don't wait until 11pm to go on). As it is, I'd had enough at about the hour and 10 minute mark and we ended up leaving during the last song of the first set. We didn't even stick around to hear "Fell in Love With a Girl" or "Hotel Yorba" (my favorite).

Oh well, Dee Dee Ramone is dead and I guess there are bigger things to worry about.

Like Winona Ryder for instance.
I think she sunk to a new low on the MTV Movie Awards last night - feeling herself just so she could whore out her new movie with Adam Sandler (and I didn't think she could go much lower than doing that film). You know, I used to be a big Winona Ryder fan - she was great in "Heathers" and "Edward Scissorhands" and other earlier films. But now she seems to be just a watered-down parody of herself....bad film after bad film, bad groupie experience after bad groupie experience, that whole shoplifting thing...it's really sad and pathetic...

and yes, I do think she is more pathetic than Kelly Osbourne who warbled her way through "Papa Don't Preach" with her vocals squeezed through about a million different effects....Actually she didn't sound that bad and the fact that you could tell she was nervous made it all that more endearing....
C'mon, she's 17-freaking-years-old, give the wealthy teenager a break already! Mama made her do and you'd do it too if you had the chance.

Hell, I know I would.

Though if it was me I would've sang "Like a Virgin" and writhed around on the floor...I mean, you have to...right?