Lead the way, Rat!

​Last night, noise swami Frank "Rat Bastard" Falestra appeared to Crossfade in a strange dream.

He didn't say anything. But even if he did, it would have been drowned out by the sound of his hands (which were, uh, made of broccoli) forcing his four-string telecaster to cry out in tongues.

Skull-cap gripping his head, chin tucked tightly into his chest, Ray Bans drooping slightly down the bridge of his nose, obscuring closed eyes, Rat stood before a tower of speakers encased in vine from which poured a phantasmagoric, burning-bush picture show of horror, wonder, and ecstasy.

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​On June 16, 1971, a little thug by the name of Tupac Amaru Shakur came screaming into this world.

He was the son of Black Panther Party members, a scrawny kid with a big mouth, who grew up in the streets during the crack epidemic, studied ballet and jazz at a fancy Baltimore arts school, and bumrushed the '90s rap scene with politicized gangsta philosophy. He got shot five times in 1994 and survived. He spent eleven months locked up in the Attica Correctional Facility on a sex charge. And he died in Las Vegas exactly 25 years, two months, and 27 days after he was born.

Pac's time was short, complicated, and violent. But he released six albums (and nine posthumous ones), sold almost a 100 million records, and changed the world. And next Thursday is the anniversary of his birthday. Honor his life with a pilgrimmage to Atlanta for the 2Pac 40th Birthday Concert Celebration, organized by his mother Afeni.

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Fat Mike playing pool at his Vegas Punk House.

​Crossfade has experienced our share of punk houses. We've got stories about crossword puzzle face tattoos, a dumpster literally converted into a fridge, and losing an arm-wrestling match to a dog wearing an eyepatch and a Discharge butt-flap.

One time, we drove up to Gainesville to see some band no one in Gainesville cared about and crashed on the very dirty floor of a friend's group house. He literally lived in a closet, so we slept in the living room. Early in the morning, we woke up to someone pissing on us in our sleep, a member of the band we had driven up to see. He was asleep too. Also, drunk. Also, an asshole.

Anyway, none of that has anything to do with NOFX's Fat Mike and the Vegas Punk House he's renting out.

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​It's time to start planning your road trip to Lollapalooza land 'cause King Perry Farrell just released his 125-name guestlist for this August's three-day Grant Park extravaganza. And if you don't wanna be left at the gate, crying and clawing the dirt like a pauper, you better buy a full-weekend festival pass right now. It'll cost $215 till the King feels like upping the tax. And that could be tomorrow.

So drop a bag of gold and save your spot at the round table with Eminem, Foo Fighters, Coldplay, Muse, Crystal Castles, and Death From Above 1979 -- not to mention King Perry, Queen Etty, and an official party crew including Girl Talk, Pretty Lights, and Kid Cudi.

See the cut for the Lollapalooza 2011's full lineup.

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