If there’s a tear in your beer, you won’t find it here: While the Dalhart Imperials honor the original style of country music — as opposed to the crispy kind offered up by pretty chicks in half shirts — even the CD’s slowest ballad is likely to get your foot…
On Tuesday, February 10, Mootown’s honorary mayor held court at Herman’s Hideaway. “My name’s Todd,” said Todd Park Mohr. “I play in a band called Big Head Todd and the Monsters. This is them.” Yeah, as if he had to tell this crowd that. Everybody in Mootown knows the Cabeza…
If you’re one of the dozen or so people who saw the Frances McDormand vehicle Laurel Canyon, you may have noticed some familiar faces from the indie-rock scene on the big screen. McDormand’s sexy, middle-aged record producer takes a much younger lover — the lead singer of a rock band,…
Ignoring the punk era’s disdain for guitar gymnastics, Mike Jourgensen is one ax-wrangling contortionist — whether he’s immersed in technically blinding, top-of-the-neck solos or fuzzed-out squalling at stun-gun volume. Jourgensen’s latest self-named incarnation, backed by bassist Elie Kimura and kit basher Scott Young (Pil Bug, Hound), shifts slightly in direction…
DJ Luna has been putting a unique spin on traditional moon worship ever since she purchased “a pair of cheap, belt-driven tables” when she was really too young to be in the clubs. The entire night is brightened by her presence as she glides through diverse phases with an innate…
The voice snakes in around the cracks of the song like a curl of smoke, a vapor stinking of lust and poison. “I threw everything away/That you’d ever given to me/All the things I saved are gone/The dead flower from the time/That my little baby died,” Bambi Lee Savage groans…
O’Shea Jackson 5010 11th Ave. Los Angeles, CA 90043 Dear O’Shea: I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson. You were for real. I don’t mean to make you or your daughter cry. I apologize a trillion times. But you’ve fallen off. And today is not a good day. I saw the lights of…
“The songs are all done, and as they go down on tape/The critics click their pens/Comparisons made and names dropped in all boldface/To sound like his best friends.” So begins “Sing a Song,” the first track on the debut solo effort by Denver Dalley — otherwise known as Statistics. Dalley…
The Diary of Alicia Keys mates the dopest elements of past and current rhythm-and-blues trends, achieving a fluid blend that’s not only natural, but tight as hell. From the first strikes of the piano in the introduction until the CD expires, some 57 minutes later, Keys envelops listeners in a…
Irony’s not dead; it’s just lame. And Dave Grohl may have proved it once and for all with his newest project. Probot consists of the Foo Fighters frontman playing all the instruments on a bunch of metal tunes, with a different guest vocalist on each. Thankfully, Grohl doesn’t treat metal…
The fine soundtrack that accompanied 2000’s O Brother, Where Art Thou? earned a Grammy as best album. It’s no wonder, then, that the awards-hungry folks at Miramax attempted to repeat the feat with the companion platter to Cold Mountain, even hiring Brother producer T Bone Burnett to man the boards…
Bring on the hookers and blow. If the members of Vaux — bassist Ryder Robison, vocalist Quentin Smith, guitarist/keyboardist Greg Daniels, guitarists Chris Sorensen and Adam Tymn, and drummer Joe McChan — aren’t somewhere partying like rock stars right now, by God, they should be. Since they recently finalized a…
In a cultural landscape littered with decaying, decrepit rap stereotypes, Mr. Len is resurrecting yet one more: the strong, smart hip-hop artist who is neither pumped-up thug nor science-dropping spazz. Len began his career as part of the New York City crew Company Flow, whose 1997 debut, Funcrusher Plus, was…
In a perpetual state of disaster as a result of ongoing famine, drought and political corruption, Zimbabwe has still managed to export some of the world’s most infectiously joyful music: complex sounds characterized by soaring melodies, intricate vocal harmonies and the kind of polyrhythmic percussion that can induce a collective…
Kit’s caboodle is littered with experimentation and eclecticism, refusing to conform to club-music normalcy. Debuting in 1997 on his own Cytrax label with the EP Negative Powers, Kit Clayton alternates between dubby techno and adventures in noise. He’s known as the consummate computer geek, living life by the light of…
Rachel Simring sits down at a linoleum-lined table at Pete’s University Cafe and does something she wouldn’t do last spring: She speaks. In late 2002, after doctors found a cyst on her vocal cords, she entered a period of veritable silence that lasted for the better part of a year…
We don’t have tattoos on our necks. We don’t write songs about feelings and stuff. And we certainly don’t scream enough. We’re probably going to get eaten alive.” Matt Armstrong, bassist for the Bloomington, Indiana, quintet Murder By Death, is scared shitless. It’s two years ago, and his band is…
Last Tuesday night, War’s “The World Is a Ghetto” poured from the jukebox as a handful of regulars bellied up to the bar at the Lion’s Lair. A little farther down Colfax, Bargain Music prepared to take the stage at the Bluebird. As far as John Q was concerned, it…
Since his debut in 1996, it’s been hard to be a fan of music — let alone hip-hop music — and not have a couple of Jay-Z choruses stuck in your head. Whether it was “Ain’t No Nigga,” “Big Pimpin” or the ingeniously sampled hook to “Hard Knock Life,” it’s…
Fun Lovin’ Criminals’ first hit, “Scooby Snacks” (from the outfit’s 1996 debut, Come Find Yourself), was easy to dismiss as imitation gangsterism too kitschy for its own good. But it’s important to note that much of the Criminals’ output has been informed by the misspent youth of frontman/guitarist Huey, who,…
Occasionally, connoisseurs of hallucinogens become convinced that they are somehow capable of actual flight. So it’s hardly surprising that Mark Farina, a man famous for his mushroom-influenced mixes, considers himself captain of his very own airline. “The communications on this record were recorded in over fifteen hours of flight time,”…
Starsailor’s 2001 debut, Love Is Here — a million-selling Brit-rock triumph described by critics and fans alike as a tender, majestic union of Van Morrison, Jeff Buckley and the Verve — was pretty much a hunk of crap. Leader James Walsh’s drab songwriting and overwrought vocals were about as stirring…
