The New Yorker shadowed VMPRWKND as they shot a doc on Cali musicians. Their interview with DeLonge oddly turned into Tom pitching them Modlife, his artist-services site. After little luck, he asked: “Why are you guys so mellow?“

There’s a grand tradition being hatched at mtvU’s Woodie Awards show. Sure, there’s the live performances that come at a 50/50 mix of stuff we like (last year TV On The Radio, this year, say, Rilo Kiley) and stuff we don’t (last year and this year: most of the rest) and the knack of tragic award selections (Best Video to Say Anything, over TVOTR’s “Province” and Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.”). But really, the legacy is cemented in the pit, off camera, where people stop being polite and start being real. Unfortunately, Jared Leto wasn’t on hand to repeat last year‘s douchextranveganza, but this annum’s wild card came from a man much nearer and dearer to our hearts.

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