In the documentary No Direction Home, Bob Dylan comes off as uncaring and clueless about the effect America was having on him and the reciprocal effect he was having on it. Deceiver or dumb fuck? It was hard to tell. Chris Adolf, the core of the indie-pop collective known as…
The increasing homogeneity of American culture hasn’t completely wiped out unique characteristics of regional music scenes: Austin, Atlanta and even Denver still retain their sonic identities to a significant degree. Still, practically every city large enough to support a college has a band that plays the same sort of bouncy…
Matchbook Romance, Voices (Epitaph/Ada). The term “melodic hardcore” should never be used in a serious manner, especially since this too-often-heard brand of washed-out, wussy-boy tuneage could be more easily summed up in a single word: suckcore. Matchbook Romance does what all the other derivatives of derivatives who came before them…
Another singer-songwriter prepares to bare his old soul to a bar full of half-listening regulars. He tunes, checks one-two, and hardly anyone notices. As he begins to play, the graceful, delicate plucking turns a few heads. Then a beautiful woman’s voice rings achingly from the stage, and all eyes turn…
Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy is an interesting performer in part because he regularly wars with doubts his loyalists can’t see. As reported by the Portland State University Vanguard, during a stop on Tweedy’s current acoustic tour with Wilco drummer Glenn Kotche, several audience members insisted on talking during his set, and…
The grizzled, gray-bearded guy who played piano behind Aaron Neville and Aretha Franklin during their rendition of the national anthem at Super Bowl XL wasn’t recognized by most of the broadcast’s millions of viewers. But Mac Rebennack, better known as Dr. John, has been a New Orleans music deity for…
Hype can seemingly turn a mediocre band into a great band, and a great band into the new savior of rock. Take L.A.’s the Bronx, for example. Still touring behind their critically acclaimed 2003 debut, the band’s members are doing their best to live up to raves that referred to…
Last year, Coldplay’s Chris Martin learned a valuable lesson: Be cautious when invoking the sacred name of Bono. Martin broke this rule just prior to the release of X&Y, telling scribes he wanted the disc to hit U2-esque heights. As a result, critics were waiting for the CD with machetes…
While the Strat-brandishing virtuoso is something of a cliche in rock music, those who can wield a Fender with precision do possess the ability to grab our attention. Having paid his dues touring with ’90s hip-hop act First Born in addition to logging fret time alongside Memphis soul crooner William…
Who’s seven feet tall, has flow like a fractured iceberg and gets his paycheck signed by Omar A. Rodriguez-Lopez of the Mars Volta? Giovanni Marks, leader of the underground hip-hop cabal Subtitle. The L.A.-based rapper might look more like a starting forward for the Lakers than a musician, but his…
Blackalicious showed off its linguistic prowess some years back on a single called “Alphabet Aerobics.” As for lightning-lipped Los Angeles MC Busdriver — another denizen of the hip-hop underground — he’s spent the double-aughts pushing his verbal virtuosity past levels that’d wear out manic Celebrity Fit Club trainer Harvey Walden…
Saxophonist Fred Hess shows no signs of caring about stardom or fame or any of the other forces that drive so many of his fellow musicians. He’s more concerned with nudging his work forward day by day, month by month, recording by recording — and his latest disc, How ‘Bout…
Few DJs are as synonymous with their craft as Alexander Coe, aka Sasha. Throughout the ’90s, Sasha and his partner, John Digweed, did more to legitimize the art of deejaying than perhaps any other performers. They sold untold thousands of records and CDs and opened up markets that hadn’t previously…
The first thing Out on Bail wants to talk about isn’t the songwriting process or artistic integrity or any other of rock’s bullshit shibboleths. It’s booze. “Picture yourself in Pierre, South Dakota,” bassist Mike “Mad Dog” Taylor jumps in before the tape recorder is even rolling. “We’re touring with our…
Brian Howe is making a big noise as a Denver DJ — even if he lives in Loveland, a quiet backwater better known for its Valentine’s Day postage seal than its thriving electronic scene. Howe moved to northern Colorado from the Bay area a year ago. “I really just kind…
Montreal’s Stars have been living a couple of jackpot years. Crashing stateside with the wave of “collective” bands from the Great White North (including neighborhood chums Broken Social Scene), the five-piece has managed to make the heavy-rotation list on Adam Brody’s iPod and collect a broad constellation of accolades and…
Sometimes, Mira Romantschuk still can’t believe her luck. “Two years ago we were in Paris, without homes, in a very critical state,” she exclaims. “We left Paris for Finland to work on our music and try to survive on what we had.” Romantschuk is recounting the origins of the duo…
Jack Dangers, the main man behind Meat Beat Manifesto, has been credited with plenty of musical innovations over nearly two decades, but he’s never received the praise he feels he’s due for his work in another creative medium: hairstyling. During the early ’80s, he and Barry Andrews, a onetime member…
Dear Sir, released in 1995, marked singer-songwriter Chan Marshall as one Power-ful Cat — but as the years wore on, she proved to be a relatively sedentary one, as well. On disc after disc after disc, her spare arrangements and tenderly purred vocals came to both define and entrap her…
Check out the collabos on Jamie Foxx’s new album, Unpredictable: Ludacris, Twista, the Game, Snoop, Mary J. Blige, Kanye West and Common. Then there are the tracks produced by Babyface and Timbaland. Homeboy even thanks Oprah in the liner notes. Think Foxx is connected? It makes sense: When you’re the…
Electronics are the new orchestras, at least insofar as they allow a standard three-piece like Slow Runner to fold in layers of interior and pockets of depth that only studious listening can completely excavate. Michael Flynn articulates with Rufus Wainwright weight on every phrase, a romantic bit of overkill that…
Tunnel Vision Brilliance could prompt purchases with its cover alone, as long as designers supplement its disturbing imagery (lumberjack-like Scott Reeder floating shirtless in amniotic fluid) with a sticker that reads “The solo debut from the bassist of Obsessed and Kyuss.” Like a more intimate expression of the latter band’s…
