Every few months for three years running, writer/editor/publisher Rod Brown has unleashed a new edition of Throat Culture Magazine, boosting its distribution and circulation with each press run. Brown's passion for "abrasive music" fuels this beast, a dense glossy loaded with articles, reviews and interviews regarding all things headbanging. In the case of this Throat Culture, the results usually come back positive.
As long as it pertains to getting ripped to the tits, local filmmaker/writer/boozebag Frank Rich prints all the news that's fit to drink. Whether it's the wisdom of forty-ounce philosophers, true stories from the sozzled

side or the savvy drunk's guide to low-cost quaffs, Modern Drunkard -- which took a hiatus in 1998 after a dozen issues -- covers the town like a cheap suit. Consistently funny, the monthly publication celebrates the passionate affair between language and liquor with regular columns from Giles Humbert III and the Concerned Cad. A filmic extension of the Drunkard campaign is currently in production under Rich's guidance; his prior credits include the noir-caper Nixing the Twist. The paper version includes cocktail recipes, obscure trivia and the occasional drunken doggerel from Joe or Jane Barfly. Li'l stories 'bout drinky an' hap -- hic! -- pee hour. Whudderya lookinat? Hahhgh? Gizadringk!

Artist/illustrator Lucas Richards's work may be familiar to buyers of local recordings: He's done covers for the Volts, the Dinnermints and the Pindowns, among others. But it's within the pages of Starving Magpie, a quarterly comic-book-style publication, that his vision is most fully realized. Richards and collaborator Soapy Argyle -- an area guitarist who crafts Starving's stories -- have compiled a year's worth of issues in a volume titled Captain Mis-

siletoe: The First Collection 2000-2001. Named for the tragicomic superhero who stars in most of the pen-drawn capers, the low-budget but creatively rendered collection is available at such cultural outposts as Wax Trax, WaterCourse Foods and the Buffalo Exchange.

Founded in 1972, Music Disc has exchanged its storefront on Hampden Avenue for a warehouse space at 3895A Newport Street in Denver; 45s are available for browsing by appointment, but the rest of the stock isn't. Fortunately, though, the entire library is accessible on the Web -- and what a library it is. The site has a huge collection of rare and hard-to-find albums, singles and so on. The prices ain't always cheap, but if the one thing that would make your life complete would be finding a copy of Captain Beefheart's "Ice Cream for Crow" on 45, it's worth it.
"Headbanger and Zombie Fag Extraordinaire" Maris the Great is up to his neck disemboweling Denver's heavy-metal finest -- a fiendish plot that the little ghoul expects will launch his own band to the forefront of the underground scene. As a contributing critic to Throat Culture Magazine (and the now-defunct Soundboard), His Greatness has already offed the likes of Drudgery, Black Lamb, 4 Head Scream, Rubber Planet, Rachel's Playpen and Malignari, among others. An endless splatterfest, this amusing, one-stop guide through the Queen City's willfully dark side also provides plenty of information about nu metal, old metal, death metal, grindcore, sludgecore, goth, punk and wee-wees.

When Ralph Stanley invited the sold-out crowd at the Paramount Theatre to hold hands and join him in a call-and-response version of "Amazing Grace," few in the audience declined the offer. When else does the average country-music lover have a chance to join in a chorus with Emmylou Harris, Allison Krauss and Union Station, Norman Blake and Patty Loveless, not to mention the stately Stanley? That closing moment was one of many highlights of the Down from the Mountain concert, which brought to life music from the amazingly successful, Grammy-winning O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. It was an evening of stellar performances from artists both legendary and lesser known. How sweet the sound.
Both the business world and the music industry offered a slack-jawed response to the news that Nobody in Particular Presents, the tiny local promotional firm, had filed an anti-trust lawsuit against promotional behemoth Clear Channel Entertainment in federal district court last August. Full of nasty allegations of illegal power-mongering and plain old bad behavior in the Clear Channel camp, the suit made it clear that the Denver concert battles were now an all-out war. The story appeared in media outlets around the country, from Spin to Fortune to salon.com, with most pieces suggesting that NIPP was a little bit crazy to take on the most powerful promotional force on the planet -- but honoring the company with the sort of respect accorded underdogs the world over.

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