Trent Reznor may come off like someone who doesn’t give a damn about stardom, but guess what? He wants to sell records. Lots of them. His last studio set, 1999’s The Fragile, was an ambitious effort that didn’t set either the nation’s cash registers or his supporters’ imaginations ablaze. Teeth,…
Since articles about dance punksters such as Franz Ferdinand that don’t include a Gang of Four reference are rarer than Nobel laureates at a Carrot Top concert, the timing of this deluxe reissue is ideal. Not only does Entertainment! hold up better than anyone might have predicted upon the disc’s…
Topping Go Slowly All the Way Round the Outside, Blusom’s excellent 2003 debut, would have been damn near impossible — and wisely, partners Mike Behrenhausen and Jaime White, known as Jme, don’t even try. Instead, they use their sophomore disc as an opportunity to further develop their beguiling blend of…
An anachronism but no mere mimic, Eddie Clendening fills the bill of ’50s-era teen idol a half-century after Elvis got his big break. Clendening’s full-length debut, The Rage of the Teen-Age, features the youthful frontman backed by three separate combos (including Deke Dickerson on three tracks), strumming a mean rhythm…
Van Halen, ELP and Hella never knew they had that much in common — that is, until Darediablo. The Gotham trio of drummer Chad Royce, keyboardist Matt Holford and guitarist/bassist Jake Garcia have been kicking up an instrumental din for six years now, jabbing shards of metal and jazz sideways…
Steel Pole Bath Tub was one of the more compelling casualties of the early-’90s major-label bidding frenzy that followed Nirvana’s dark-horse breakthrough. After a decade of producing enigmatic, sample-addled drone rock, the outfit was dropped by London Records in 1996 for planning to release a disc that covered the first…
Even though it’s been 47 years since “Rumble” was banned from the radio out of fear that it would promote teenage gang warfare, the landmark instrumental’s creator, Link Wray, is still strutting across stages worldwide like some evil, black-leather-clad rooster — liver spots and all. And why not? Credited with…
Ryan Raddon, who goes by Kaskade, may be the least likely superstar DJ in dance music: a teetotaling Mormon who still attends church on a regular basis. Yet the particulars of his lifestyle haven’t prevented nightlifers from embracing his music, which juxtaposes vigorous beats with a soulful, extremely listenable vibe…
After meeting in a Tokyo-based language school, where they were studying everything from Thai to Italian, the four members of Melt-Banana discovered one idiom that they all spoke fluently in addition to their native tongue: loud, spastic noise. With tiny, ferocious frontwoman YaSuko Onuki leading the sonic stampede, Melt-Banana offers…
Although these Eagles are desperadoes of a sort, they won’t be mistaken for Glenn Frey or Don Henley — and they’re not exactly Cannibal Corpse clones, either. The band is one of approximately 5,000 side projects overseen by Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh Homme, who’s identified on the…
A long-winded Southern degenerate who can’t catch a commercial break, John William Davis should be a household name in Colorado by now. Instead, after years of toiling as an underground folk phenom and releasing the critically acclaimed Dreams of the Lost Tribe, Davis has decided to return to his native…
The Crystal Method was one of the few American dance acts to enjoy the electronica boom of the late ’90s. With a sound akin to the Chemical Brothers’, the Method’s huge breakbeats, samples and acid lines helped tracks like “Keep Hope Alive” and “Busy Child” become club, rave and radio…
At the century’s turn, when he was transitioning from club sensation to full-fledged recording artist, German DJ and producer Timo Maas spent much of his free time collecting wine. Thanks to his peripatetic lifestyle, which took him to world capitals and exotic locales on a regular basis, he was able…
We’ve been trying to do a tour of cult-related sites,” enthuses Dan Snaith from a van packed with musical gear en route to Montreal. “We stopped off at the Branch Davidian complex in Waco last time we were in Texas. There are still all these foundations and all this burnt…
“What the hell you writing down there, my friend? You’re not one of those freaks writing down everything I do, are you?” Guilty as charged, Boss. As I scribbled furiously in my notebook last Saturday night at the Colorado Convention Center, it felt like Bruce Springsteen was boring a hole…
When Emma “Scout” Niblett slinks up to the mike and dribbles the refrain “Everybody needs someone to spell out their name” — as she does on Kidnapped by Neptune’s high point, “Pom Poms” — it’s hard to guess what in the hell she’s talking about. She might, of course, be…
Ryan Adams couldn’t be more full of himself if he was Mr. Creosote, as the Cold Roses packaging makes clear. These eighteen songs could fit on a single disc, yet they’ve been spread over two CDs to justify a gatefold design that mimics the classic ’70s double albums he measures…
Equal parts genius, anarchist and freak of nature, Robbie Fulks is the under-heralded king of “real” country music. Georgia Hard, Fulks’s latest effort, sports a mandolin-blessed tribute to highway escapism (“Where There’s a Road”) along with instant-classic cheater songs such as “Doin’ Right (For All the Wrong Reasons)” and the…
Phil Cunningham, rookie guitarist for New Order, had this to say about working with his childhood heroes on Waiting for the Sirens’ Call: “Sometimes they reject stuff because it sounds ‘too New Order-y.'” If that were truly the case, Sirens’ Call would be nine minutes long. And those entire nine…
What to make of the Dead Kennedys’ “Too Drunk to Fuck” done bossa-nova style with vocals by Camille, a uni-monikered songbird who twitters like a tipsy socialite? Is this concept, stretched to album length by the production team of Marc Collins and Oliver Libaus, a silly gimmick? A wry bit…
So, who, exactly, is Mike Jones? That’s a great question. Here’s what we’ve learned so far: The nearly ubiquitous Houston-based rapper apparently lives in a world of Escalades with wood-grain interiors and diamond grilles. He has a strained, nasal drawl, which he throws against both the glitzy synth lines of…
Considering the mob of generic singer-songwriters currently operating in these parts, a performer can stand out only if she or he has something to offer beyond an excess of sensitivity. Fortunately, Rogers does. Her voice is flavored by a Dallas upbringing, and that hint of twang, along with a pleasantly…
