​​The Round of 64 for Sound of the City's own version of March Madness—in which you, the Sound of the City voting public, help determine the quintessential New York musician—finishes this weekend, with the Round of 32 kicking off Monday. (The schedule and results so far are here; the full, updated bracket is here.) On our last day of first-round battles, we have Carole King matched up with the New York Dolls. Check out the arguments in favor of each below, and vote at Facebook for the musician that you think should move on to the next round.

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Bobby Bank/WireImage

David Johansen.

​The Music of the Rolling Stones: Hot Rocks 1964-1971
Carnegie Hall
Tuesday, March 13

Better than: Paying $300 to see The Stones.

Okay, so maybe most of the audience was old enough to remember the first time they saw Mick Jagger shake his hips and lips on The Ed Sullivan Show. And a sea of salt-and-pepper hair, thick eyeglasses and bellies betraying too many Big Slam Breakfasts at Denny's was spread among the seats. But last night at Carnegie Hall, the years melted away as a slew of artists paid tribute to the Rolling Stones. Gone, briefly, were the horrors of adulthood (like the couple who told me, with a shudder, about taking their daughter to see Miley Cyrus). Instead, the mostly middle-aged crowd was able to relive the naughty kicks of "Let's Spend The Night Together" and "Honky Tonk Woman" for nearly two hours. They got to shout, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Woo!" without their kids running from the room. And, finally, to really dig a wide array of Jagger and Richards's most brilliant songs.

And no, Justin Bieber did not come out and sing "Satisfaction."

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Mötley Crüe w/Poison, New York Dolls
Nassau Coliseum
Wednesday, July 20

Better than: Attending an 18-year high school reunion with a cash bar, albeit one mitigated by the DJ having a music library nearly identical to yours back in the day.

An extremely partial list of pop-cultural events since Dec. 11, 1989, when I attended my first concert, headlined by Mötley Crüe and hosted by the Nassau Coliseum: John Corabi. Behind The Music. Indoor smoking bans. The Pam and Tommy sex tape. Napster. The Dirt. Cell phone cameras becoming the norm. Rock of Love. Skating With Celebrities. Blogs. (So many blogs.) Bret Michaels winning The Apprentice.

Warrant opened that show, which made Mötley, technically, the second band I ever saw live.

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"We live in the present. And we're digging it."

Sylvain Sylvain (left) and David Johansen, actually requesting "Pills," not pills, for once. PIc by Anna Victoria.

​Sylvain Sylvain is an enchanting mix of contradictions. He's a founding member of wildly attired proto-punks the New York Dolls, and also a "nice Jewish boy." He and fellow Doll Johnny Thunders pretty much invented the sloppy, minimalist bursts of guitar that define modern music, yet he worships at the altar of doo wop and Diddley. Though he isn't exactly a household name, he's definitely a legend. And this week, the man who use to dress like a peacock has good reason to crow. The Dolls' new album, Dancing Backwards In High Heels, is their best since reforming in 2004, and thus their best since 1974. Unworried about having to live up to their legend as New York Noise Merchants, Syl and Dolls lead singer David Johansen (alongside fine sideman doing their best to fill the hole left by the passing of core founding members Johnny Thunders and Arthur Kane) have made a catchy, conceptually unified record, full of Johansen's typically sardonic lyrics and guitarist Sylvain's unforgettable melodies, all wrapped up in Farfisa organs and hooks aplenty, Syl, the ultimate New Yawka, recently rang in from Atlanta to talk about it all.

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Mr. Johansen, holding court in South Carolina. CREDIT

New York Dolls/Black Joe Lewis
Music Hall of Williamsburg
Monday, June 22

The New York Dolls -- the two original dudes with the good fortune to still be alive, plus three sonically and sartorially like-minded newer recruits to replace those original members who were much less fortunate -- will take no offense if you prefer the thrillingly brash, iconic garage-punk version of "Trash" that appeared on their 1973 self-titled debut to the slowed-down, hammed-up ska remake that graces this spring's Cause I Sez So, their second reunion album, which vacillates between the thrilling garage-punk that made them famous and stranger, more disquieting flights of fancy like, say, doing a ska remake of one of their most famous songs. Tonight they mash both versions together into one unwieldy but energetic beast, our two survivors --cuddly guitarist Sylvain Sylvain and lithe, lascivious Lou Reed/Gumby hybrid frontman David Johansen -- prancing nonchalantly about, the guitars roaring quasi-melodically as usual, and this whole thing continues, against all odds and to their infinite credit, to not feel like a travesty.

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