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  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

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    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Sirhan Sirhan

Saturday, May 3, hi-dive, 720-570-4500.

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By Eryc Eyl

Published on April 29, 2008 at 8:15pm

It might not be the musical equivalent of an assassination, but Sirhan Sirhan brings plenty of violence and aggression to its beer-fueled proto-punk party. With maniacally purring vocals, viciously crunchy guitar, bloodthirsty bass, and drums as sloppy and belligerent as an aging, pot-bellied punker who's had one too many PBRs, the San Diego trio knows how to stir up a pit. Sirhan Sirhan's full-length debut, Blood — released by Kansas City's Anodyne Records and produced by Joby J. Ford of fellow SoCal brutalitarians the Bronx — slithers, seethes and surges with metallic menace and absolute disdain for subtly. From singer/guitarist Jason Blackmore's ominous growl to bassist Mike Johnston's pummeling bass lines, the record allows no quarter. Uncompromising anger and relentless heaviness are the calling cards of this hammer-to-the-brain three-piece. The band's MySpace page claims it sounds like "a swift kick to the sack," and frankly, we're too scared to disagree.