Well, according to Rolling Stone they did, at the launch of their new record Believers Never Die, Part Deux. Christina Fuoco-Karasinski fills in the gaps.

Fall Out Boy got political at their Mesa, Arizona “Believers Never Die, Part Deux” tour opener Friday night, taking the stage in dress suits and black eyes — and in frontman Patrick Stump’s case, a grey Donald Trump-like wig — as a commentary on the current state of corporate America.

Video screens framing Andy Hurley’s elevated drum kit aired footage of riot police and the conservatively dressed bandmembers walking through a backstage area. Hurley appeared onstage first, fervently pounding away on his kit as two men dressed in police riot gear banged on drums for opener “Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes.”

Before the second song, “Thriller,” bassist Pete Wentz welcomed the crowed at the grassy Mesa Amphitheatre to the “corporate retreat,” saying his plan was to teach the masses how to get rich and buy a yacht. “But most importantly, you gotta learn how to thrill them first,” said Wentz, whose wife Ashlee Simpson-Wentz was dancing side-stage.

The band and menacing riot guards retreated backstage after the third song, “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More ‘Touch Me’,” and the screen showed a shirtless Wentz changing clothes (to the delight of the shrieking teenage girls) as the rest of the band waited for him. When Fall Out Boy returned, they were outfitted in their normal skinny jeans and hoodies. “Right now we’re going to play as Fall Out Boy,” Wentz said, noting the point of the corporate look was to show how the rich rob the poor. He stressed that attention should be focused on the people of starving countries such as Sri Lanka and the Republic of the Congo.

Bodies flew through the air, which housed a sea of cameras and cell phones, during breakthrough hit “Sugar, We’re Going Down” and “Thanks fr th Mmrs” as guitarist Joe Trohman twirled himself silly onstage. Cassadee Pope, frontwoman for Hey Monday, one of four bands opening the show, skipped onstage to join Stump for the chorus to “Sugar.”

The 90-minute show was ostensibly to support FOB’s latest album, Folie a Deux, but Fall Out Boy eschewed some of their hits — including “I’m Like a Lawyer With the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)” — in exchange for deeper cuts from their catalog. The band played a healthy dose of songs from its 2003 indie release Take This To Your Grave, including “Chicago is So Two Years Ago.” And with a little polish, the older tunes sounded just as crisp and punchy as the new ones.


Set List

Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes
Thriller
A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More ‘Touch Me'
Sugar, We’re Going Down
This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race
I Don’t Care
Chicago is So Two Years Ago
Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
I Slept With Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me
Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy
What a Catch Donnie
(Coffee’s for Closers)
Dead on Arrival
She’s My Winona
Beat It
America’s Suitehearts
Thanks fr th Mmrs
The Take Over, The Break’s Over
Dance, Dance
Saturday

The next Dream Theater album will be titled Black Clouds & Silver Linings, to be released on June 23, the band announced yesterday.

NEW YORK, NY — Progressive metal veterans Dream Theater have announced Black Clouds and Silver Linings as the title of their tenth studio album. The band commenced work on the album - their second for Roadrunner Records, following up 2007's Systematic Chaos - in October of last year.

Roadrunner will release the record on June 23. In addition to the standard version CD, the album will also be available on vinyl LP, as well as a 3-disc Special Edition CD that will include the full album, a CD of instrumental mixes of the album and a CD of six cover songs, the titles of which will be revealed at a later date.

Six weeks prior to the June 23 street date, Roadrunner will release one cover song per week through digital retailers.

Drummer Mike Portnoy and guitarist John Petrucci are once again at the helm as producers, while Paul Northfield mixed the record.

The band will embark on a world tour in support of the album beginning in Europe throughout June which will be followed by the second edition of the band's Progressive Nation tour featuring Zappa Plays Zappa, Pain Of Salvation and Beardfish throughout North America in July/August.

A video for the first single, A Rite of Passage will be shot in late March.

The track listing for Black Clouds and Silver Linings is as follows:

1. A Nightmare to Remember
2. A Rite of Passage
3. Wither
4. The Shattered Fortress
5. The Best of Times
6. The Count of Tuscany


Album cover art:
http://www.dreamtheater.net/covers/b...

Reviewed by David Fricke

U2. No Line on the Horizon. Interscope Records.

STAR STAR STAR STAR STAR


"I was born to sing for you/I didn't have a choice but to lift you up," Bono declares early on this album, in a song called "Magnificent." He does it in an oddly low register, a heated hush just above the shimmer of the Edge's guitar and the iron-horse roll of bassist Adam Clayton and drummer Larry Mullen Jr. Bono is soon up in thin air with those familiar rodeo yells, on his way to the chorus, which ends with him just singing the word "magnificent," repeating it with relish, stretching the syllables.

But he does it not in self-congratulation, more like wonder and respect, as if in middle age, on his band's 11th studio album, he still can't believe his gift — and luck. Bono knows he was born with a good weapon for making the right kind of trouble: the clean gleam and rocket's arc of that voice. "It was one dull morning/I woke the world with bawling," he boasted in "Out of Control," written by Bono on his 18th birthday and issued on U2's Irish debut EP.

He is still singing about singing, all over No Line on the Horizon, U2's first album in nearly five years and their best, in its textural exploration and tenacious melodic grip, since 1991's Achtung Baby. "Shout for joy if you get the chance," Bono commands, in a text-message cadence and drill sergeant's bark, in "Unknown Caller." He leads by example in the ham-with-wry pop of "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight" — "Listen for me/I'll be shouting/Shouting to the darkness" — then demands his piece of the din in the glam-fuzz shindig "Get on Your Boots": "Let me in the sound!...Meet me in the sound!" God, guilt, love, sin, terrorism and transcendence — Bono juggles them all here, with the usual cracks at his own hubris. ("Stand up to rock stars," he warns in "Stand Up Comedy." "Be careful of small men with big ideas.")

Bono also keeps coming back to the sheer power and pleasure of a long high note and the salvation you can feel in being heard. "I'm running down the road like loose electricity," he jabbers, with some of that nasal acid of the '66 Bob Dylan, through the hard-rock clatter of "Breathe," "while the band in my head plays a striptease."

It is a strange thing to sing on a record that more often reveals itself in tempered gestures, at a measured pace. (The main exception, the outright frivolity of "Get on Your Boots," comes right in the middle, as if the band thought it needed some kind of zany halftime.) Most of the great — and biggest-selling — U2 albums have been confrontational successes: the dramatic entrance on 1980's Boy; the spiritual-pilgrim reach of 1987's The Joshua Tree; the electro-Weimar whirl of Achtung Baby; the return to basics on 2004's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Produced by the now-standard trio of Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois and Steve Lillywhite, No Line on the Horizon is closer to the transitional risks — the Irish-gothic spell of 1984's The Unforgettable Fire, the techno-rock jet lag of 1993's Zooropa — but with a consistent persuasion in the guitar hooks, rhythms and vocal lines.

In "No Line on the Horizon," it is the combination of garage-organ drone, fat guitar distortion and Mullen's parade-ground drumming, the last so sharp and hard all the way through that it's difficult to tell how much is him and how much is looping (that is a compliment). The Edge takes one of his few extended guitar solos at the end of "Unknown Caller," a straightforward, elegiac break with a worn, notched edge to his treble tone. "White as Snow" is mostly alpine quiet — guitar, keyboard, Bono and harmonies, like the Doors' "The Crystal Ship" crossed with an Appalachian ballad. "Cedars of Lebanon" ends the album much as "The Wanderer" did on Zooropa, a triumph of bare minimums (this time it's Bono going in circles, through wreckage, instead o