Roses Are Red’s Trustkill Records debut, Conversations, comes plastered with a badge that proudly proclaims “ROCK IS BACK.” As embarrassingly hyperbolic as that might seem, the music produced by these five boys from western New York sets out to prove exactly that. While carefully dampened chords, gruff harmonies and impassioned…
The Trouble We’re In, by Milwaukee’s Call Me Lightning, doesn’t open with either a whimper or a bang — just the crackling hum of a crappy, over-cranked amp. But it’s an omen, a stab of static that perfectly sets the tone for the unhinged, neck-snapping mayhem to follow. Formed out…
Ever divine, Miss M is famed for looming larger than life, a powerful persona on stage, screen or in the studio. Through more than thirty years of performing — from playing gay bathhouses, to being signed at her first meeting with the president of Atlantic Records, to countless tours and…
Confusion has been a motif of modern music from Igor Stravinsky on down to Sonic Youth. But rarely has Colorado seen as bizarre an avatar of panic and pandemonium as the Springs’ own Colonial Excess. After a puzzling jumble of handmade EPs leaked out over the past year, the quartet…
It’s a commonly held misconception that America and Europe have cornered the dance-music market. While this may have been true in the scene’s formative years, new sounds and their purveyors have continued to pop up all over the globe. Take Hernan Cattaneo, for instance, who has helped put his native…
It was a couple of years ago, back when his grandfather was still alive. Win Butler and his girlfriend, Régine Chassagne, invited Alvino — Butler called him by his first name — up to their home in Montreal to visit. Alvino had always been close to his grandson, but they’d…
Brent Hinds is putting on some weight. Right now, his band Mastodon is in the middle of a mega-budget, liquor-sponsored arena tour with Slayer and Killswitch Engage. And apparently the catering is too good to pass up. “The fucking food is awesome!” Hinds exclaims. “I’m getting fucking fat, dude!” But…
Rappers can’t play ball, and ballers can’t emcee. For proof, see Master P and Shaq — or Carmelo Anthony, for that matter. While there’s no doubt that Melo is gifted at handling the rock, when it comes to rockin’ the mike, well, let’s just say he should leave that to…
As everyone now knows, Nirvana started out merely great and wound up, well, godlike. Not that With the Lights Out is meant as some kind of Bible, unless you’re talking about the particularly gruesome parts of the Old Testament. Every manner of misfire and fuckup is immortalized on this boxed…
The former Jeffrey Atkins has a well-documented chip on his shoulder. Although he’s made his bones on the pop charts and has already gone Hollywood in flicks such as The Fast and the Furious, he longs to be recognized as a thug-life exemplar à la 50 Cent, one of many…
The Rise has absolutely no idea how to do things the way it’s supposed to. The Austin quintet’s debut, Signal to Noise, shattered hardcore convention, taking a strong cue from Refused but adding an even harsher, more electro tone to its nerve-shot techno-punk. As unorthodox as it was, though, the…
Like other teeny-poppers from the Class of 2002, Carlton faces the challenge of building a lasting career on the flimsiest foundation imaginable: adolescent loyalty. The growing maturity of her music will serve her well in the long run, but it’s apt to cause a short-term career challenge. The Harmonium arrangements…
If Sum 41 sounds hardened on its fourth album, there’s good reason: The title refers to the name of a United Nations volunteer who helped the Canadian punk pranksters dodge bullets and explosions in the Congo, where the group was on a charity mission in 2003. The bandmembers haven’t totally…
Ever found yourself knee-deep in malt liquor, a mile high on weed and strung out on the Cartoon Network? Then The ShapeShifters Was Here is your new battle cry. Bubbling over with Simpsons samples and pop-culture references, the Shifters’ third full-length is a sprawling effort that sucks in and then…
The most obvious connection between Roger Green and Porlolo’s Erin Roberts is the Czars: The former is a full-time guitarist for the band, while the latter has occasionally appeared with Green and company as sort of an auxiliary member. This split CD, though, proves that there’s a deeper tandem current…
In a marketplace clogged with cookie-cutter combos lacking all but the most superficial signs of individuality, Art Compost and the Word Mechanics dare to be different. As Love, Death and Poetry’s title implies, the group, led by SETH, a veteran of Denver’s spoken-word scene, merges music with poetics to diverting…
Different DJ subgenres require distinctive skill sets. Turntablists working in a down-tempo mode, for instance, need subtlety and grace, whereas those who specialize in maximizing the beats per minute require quicksilver instincts and an ability to react instantaneously that borders on the athletic. The current king of the latter style…
Codeseven’s latest release, Dancing Echoes/ Dead Sounds, with its cushy synth pads and sweeping sonic panoramas, could be likened to a lost Elemental-era Tears for Fears record if it weren’t for the somber harmonic edges that have been sharpened into a metallic blade. Brothers Jon (bass/programming), James (guitar and synths)…
For most music fans, the term “singer-songwriter” conjures up the image of an artist who stands before audiences armed with nothing more than a guitar and a boatload of sensitivity. Given that Joseph Arthur relies upon both these tools on a regular basis, he can’t be called a stereotype buster…
John Prine has been hawking his musical hybrid of affable country simplicity and cynical cosmopolitan wit for more than thirty years, and he shows no sign of losing his edge. Though his last album was released more than four years ago, the country-folk Everyman still manages to consistently pack every…
Although Ozzfest is usually nothing but a slop bucket of shitty nü-metal, someone in Ozzy’s empire was on the ball this year when he tapped Washington, D.C.’s Darkest Hour. The brutal fivesome brought a much-needed injection of legitimacy and bile-spewing hysteria to the fest; those qualities were honed by years…
The ghoulish costumes and masks, the freaky-deaky stage show, the spewing geysers of blood and bodily fluids, the molten metallic grindcore — all of it started with GWAR. Well, okay, it probably all started with Kiss and Alice Cooper, but GWAR brought rock-horror showmanship to new highs (or lows) and…
