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Welcome back to The Five Spot, Every Friday, we'll examine a recent bit of music news and list five reasons why it's either brilliant or dumb-assed. Send tips to introducingliston@gmail.com.

​Next month, Cypress Hill will re-up their six-years-dormant Smokeout Concert and Festival. How that was ever able to become an actual thing is still beyond us. Initially, we wanted to bash the crap out of this, if for no other reason than because growing up we were unabashed Cypress Hill detractors. Even if we wanted to like them, we couldn't because everyone automatically assumed them to be our favorite rap group because they had some Mexicans. That shit was annoying, yo.

But get this: The festival is going to feature a concert from not only Mr. Devin the Dude, but a special reunion show from the Geto Boys, including Willie D. Yes, the same Willie D that is likely headed to prison for a long, long time. Hat tip to those wily Latinos for pulling that one off.

We're super excited about this. Not enough to go out and buy Black Sunday or anything, but enough that we will stop praying for heavy things to fall on them when we go to church. After the jump, celebrate with five of the better marijuana-themed songs from 'Ro, SPM, 'Face and more.

​When it comes to fight songs, the Big 12 lacks an undisputed classic. There is no nationally recognized rival to the instantly familiar and rousing battle cries of Notre Dame, Michigan or the Naval Academy.

And before we start ranking these songs, we will caveat this by admitting that, as a fourth-generation Longhorn (albeit the first to flunk out and never return), our judgment is potentially clouded by fan bias on three songs: Oklahoma's "Boomer Sooner," A&M's "Aggie War Hymn" and "Texas Fight."

With that out of the way, here we go:

The Worst

​Easily Kansas State's "Wildcat Victory." Its melody is predictable and generic, and a full 20 percent of the lyrics are variations of the word "fight." As a quasi-official song, K-State's band also plays "Wabash Cannonball," which is a fantastic song to begin with. What's more, K-State's band has a cool arrangement, on which the band's drum section really shines. If the Wildcats wanted emulate their 1990s football team and vault from the cellar to the summit, they should come up with some new words and adopt "Wabash Cannonball" as their official fight song.

Photos by Nicholas L. Hall

Death Vessel

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Aftermath made it to Walter's just in time to catch the last gasp of News on the March's opening set, a hyperkinetic barbershop quartet vamp about a pretty lady. The energy from just that one parting song was enough to make us wish we'd made it a bit earlier. We didn't have time to snag a picture, but couldn't help noting that bassist Brent Randel looks a bit like Blaggards drummer Mike McAloon.

Death Vessel mounted the stage next, replacing NOTM's cellist with a double bass, fiddle, banjo, and electric ukelele. It was a smörgåsbord of strings. The band got things rolling with a noirish number that felt a bit like Bob Wills on a bad acid trip, with dark skies and strange beasts replacing rolling Texas vistas described from the saddle. From that promising start, Joel Thibodeau and band delivered a set that focused a bit too heavily on soft-spoken, introspective lyrics and gently strummed accoustic guitars.

There were a few interlude moments where the band channeled the dark drone of Dirty Three, or the skronky feedback of father-son free jazz duo Peter and Caspar Brotzmann. Otherwise, Death Vessel worked best when they injected their sound with a bit more muscle, as on the rudementary Neil Young solo in the middle of "Bruno's Torso," and the knee-slapping fingerpicked guitar and banjo stomp that ripped through the middle of the set.

Ask any musician: there is something basically and viscerally masculine about the industry itself, and that masculinity can seep into the most feminine of rocker chicks and indie music queens. That swagger, that attitude, that confidence coupled with soft hair, a pair of soft lips and a softly lilting voice can make any girl fall in love with their favorite female musician. It's called a girl crush, and it's all good.

canada.com

​In a move sure to boost occupancy among skinny jeans-wearing hipsters while simultaneously driving regular families away by the family truckster-load, Motel 6 is running a promotion to give free rooms to up-and-coming bands:

"Here's how it works: Motel 6 will give free rooms to developing bands on the touring circuit. (The cheapo chain has roughly 1,000 properties in every U.S. state save Hawaii.) In exchange, the bands promise to give shout-outs to the chain on their web sites, and even from the concert stage.

"The promo will begin next month with the Massachusetts-based alterna-country band Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers. Other acts on board include the punk-pop band Hit the Lights and the rock act Sparks the Rescue."

All bands currently involved are attached to Primary Wave Music, but the chain is hoping to expand the promotion to bands signed with other labels. It's an ambitious goal, but we hope Motel 6 will show a little discretion in its choices. After all, there are a few artists we bet they'd prefer stay elsewhere...

​It always happens: you and your friends toss back a few beers and the talk turns to what celebrities and models you find attractive. At first it starts out innocent enough, arguing the merits of Angelina Jolie, Megan Fox, Marissa Miller or Paula Deen. Well that last name is actually just our own fantasy. We think it has something to do with the use of butter and the whole "mama" thing.

But somewhere along the line, someone says out loud, "Well, what guys do you think are good looking?" One of your less enlightened buddies will go apeshit and call everyone a "homo" and walk away to text his girlfriend while the rest of you sit back and wax nostalgic on Russell Crowe in Gladiator or Ewan McGregor in almost anything. They are called man-crushes, formerly unspeakable vices that were once verboten but now, in our more open society, can roam shirtless and free like Gerard Butler in 300. We know plenty dudes who are "Gay-tham for Jason Statham," for example.

The rock world is rife with man-crush-worthy guitar-slingers and front men. Some dudes are just born with something that magnetizes both sexes. It's not as fun as it sounds, believe us. It's not easy being born with such a deep and flowing, almost animalistic, attractiveness. We have a brain too (sob).

Trilogy (n.): a set of three works of art that are connected and that can be seen either as a single work or as three individual works.

​If euthanasia is ever legalized, one method might be to have the doctor read Ed Shane's monthly "Letter From the Publisher" in Best In Texas to the patient. Reading Shane's banalities to a terminal patient would solve any need for expensive medicines. The death certificate would report that the patient had been bored to death.

Shane's latest screed is a 700-word essay on some Nashville flack's supposed observation that we are so lucky to have "the free, unfettered sound that we enjoy here in Texas."

Shane bases this on what he calls a "trilogy" (yes, we know Ed has no idea what the definition of trilogy is even though he publishes a "magazine"; this is part of the reason that BIT reads like a rough draft of a sophomore high school theme):

1. Lots of live music;

2. "We have the advantage of hearing new music on Texas radio"; and (drum rollllllll...)

3. "To complete the trilogy, we have the advantage of record producers who don't get in the way of the talent they're recording."

Shazam, Gomer!

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Yoyoy Villame

Yoyoy Is Barok (Plaka Pilipino, 1978)

Cultural icons can be discovered in the most unusual places, such as the dregs of the dusty record piles at a Houston thrift store. It took this record to introduce Cutout Bin to the legendary Philippine entertainer Yoyoy Villame.

On the cover, we see Barok the club-wielding caveman in his star-spangled skins dragging a bored blonde back to his cave. How could you pass this record by? The song titles hint at the English/Tagalog/whatever bizarreness to be heard within: "Bus Driver Boogie," "Pangako Ng Boy Scout," "Kaming Mga Waiter," "I'll Never Love Again."

Who the heck was Yoyoy Villame??

Roughly 84,000 rap albums have been released in Houston since 1989. We're counting down the 25 best of all time every Thursday. Got a problem with the list? Shove it. Just kidding. Friendship. Email it to sheaserrano@gmail.com.

Ganksta NIP

South Park Psycho (Priority, 1992)

We wrote about NIP at length a couple of week's ago. Read about him here if you missed the article.

South Park Psycho was the debut work of South Park's monster rapper Ganksta NIP. It's 14 tracks of balled-up fury and visceral anger; not exactly uncommon for the time. But what made the album so unique is that NIP was able to put a completely fresh spin on the gangster rap sound before there was even a real gangster rap sound. That's also what it made the most frustrating, at least as far as list-making goes anyway. It was among the more un-pin-down-able albums on the list. It was like, part of the time it felt like it should be a lot closer to the top ten - it is often recognized as the birth of the bloody horrorcore rap subgenre, so its cultural significance is undeniable - while other times it felt like it might be just a little too hard to listen to to make it on the list at all (there's lots of talk of eating dead animals and whatnot). Alas, 21 is where it fell, and we're entirely okay with that.