Yeah, Mm is from Iceland, but let’s forgo all the snow similes for a minute. As goosebump-raising as the group’s music can be, it’s anything but frigid; in fact, Mm’s new album is called Summer Make Good, and it’s infused more with warmth and friskiness than chill and desolation. Formed…
This week, Loverboy roars out of rock and roll’s past to romance us once again. An ’80s act from north of the border, this ‘boy band cranked out a slew of solid hits and got us “Workin’ for the Weekend.” Aside from a doleful-voiced ballad from the chart-topping Top Gun…
While some bands build an admirable following by busily marketing and selling the image of baby-doll sweetness, Erin Roberts of Porlolo (playing with Rogue Wave and Born in the Flood, Thursday, June 24, at the hi-dive) effortlessly embodies it. The vocalist/guitarist’s modest demeanor, complete lack of pretension and stark sincerity…
Layo & Bushwacka’s lengthy tenure in electronic dance music began when they were teenagers at some of the U.K.’s original acid-house parties back in 1988. Teaming up with the likes of the Shamen’s Mr. C and the Rat Pack, they were soon hosting their own gigs as well as putting…
It was fun while it lasted. Less than a year after it opened in Lone Tree, in the 20,000-square-foot space formerly occupied by Holoworld, the Avalon Events Center has gone dark. But owner Michael Cadwell, better known as “Caddy,” swears that the club, which Westword named Best Dance Club for…
The first time I went on tour with Planes Mistaken for Stars, I came close to dying. It was the band’s first trek across the country, in the summer of 1998, way before it had signed with the eminent indie label No Idea or perfected its vicious collision of punk,…
As country tunesmith Rodney Crowell prepared to make what would become one of 2001’s best discs, The Houston Kid, he discovered that no major label was willing to finance the project. In the end, Crowell paid for the recording himself — by draining his checking account. “Thank goodness my wife…
Ray Charles may have been blind, but he could see through more bullshit than any American musician who ever lived. Early on in his career, there were those within his own race who told him that his use of black gospel music to back secular, often blatantly sexual lyrics was…
After a six-year hiatus, the Beastie Boys return with To the 5 Boroughs and alternately position themselves as pop-culture bottom feeders and political pedants. While anti-Bush screeds “That’s It That’s All” and “Time to Build” come across as heavy-handed, the terse “Open Letter to NYC” does manage to channel that…
Morrissey, the last, great postmodern Englishman, lives in Hollywood now. His concerts in Southern California are well attended by Chicano gangbangers. The cover of his new record depicts that most rarefied of pansies — himself — sporting a zoot suit and a tommy gun. Ever get the feeling you’ve been…
If you’re among the tiny few who believed that jive about Avril being a punk at heart, you will be disabused of that notion by “He Wasn’t.” Sure, the tune sports some hey-hey-heys that a well-compensated publicist might describe as pogo-friendly, but the fuzz-toned guitars are more reminiscent of “Saturday…
Guys hate guys. Guys really hate good-lookin’ guys. We don’t want to see some hairsprayed pretty boy batting his eyes and pursing his lips, because we feel threatened. The reason Ron Jeremy has a career is to give us normals hope. Zeke is Ron Jeremy music: thick, manly, hard and…
In Flannery O’Connor’s short story “The Lame Shall Enter First,” shoes are a metaphor for selfishness. The doomed character of Norton is the type of kid who, when given a new pair of kicks, “walked around for days with his eyes on his feet.” Such has been the sin of…
Mandolinist Caleb Roberts was once a part of Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, which specializes in giving rootsy stylings a vigorous tweak. Open Road, on the other hand, leaves bluegrass’s basics well enough alone, and that clearly suits Roberts just fine. The Fort Collins quintet’s second album for Rounder is just…
Last Thursday night, I watched, speechless, as Jesus got clobbered by a burly, long-haired Demon from Mobile, Alabama. I couldn’t believe my eyes. One minute Jesus was rocking — um, make that spazzing — out to Nine Inch Nails, and the next he was writhing on the stage like an…
Dallas-based Pleasant Grove is generally lumped into the alt-country subgenre, which helps explain why the band will be joined in Denver by Munly and the Lee Lewis Harlots, Sound of Corduroy and Brian Bourgault. But The Art of Leaving, recently released on the Badman imprint, is so vast and sweeping…
Born in Germany and raised in St. Louis by way of Mobile, Alabama, the weird and worldly Mr. Quintron has called New Orleans home since 1991. After borrowing a stage name from his father’s electrical company and launching a one-man lounge act, Quintron, a former haunted-house curator, teamed up with…
Some musicians are just gluttons for punishment. Take former Guns N’ Roses members Duff McKagan, Slash and Matt Sorum. The three Axl survivors have joined forces with Stone Temple Pilots vocalist Scott Weiland in the band Velvet Revolver. A very talented cast, rounded out by the comparatively bland Dave Kushner…
Song-telling? Story-singing? As weird as her self-created classifications may be, it’s a good thing Dawn “the Faun” McCarthy deigns to stoop to the level of music journalist. It saves us the agony of making up bullshit genres like “autistic folk” or “three-cents-short opera” to describe the bizarre sound of her…
“I’m making a great living, and I’m not doing shit,” says Mike Doughty . This is not entirely true. From 1994 to 2000, Doughty fronted Soul Coughing, the avant-jazz-hip-hop-electronic band that helped lift alternative rock out of its grungy haze. After that group’s acrimonious breakup in 2000, he walked away…
“There are things known,” Jim Morrison said, “and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors.” More than thirty years after his death, the Lizard King still throws a hell of a party (as officials of the Paris cemetery where he’s buried are always complaining). So it comes…
Not as flimsy or lightweight as its name might suggest, Plastic Parachute specializes in catchy pop rock with a mainstream sound built for radio. Driven by the girlishly extroverted vocals of frontwoman Deb Hooks and the crunchy guitar of Ricky Brewer (the pair moved to Denver from Nashville, where they…
