Charlie Hunter calls his music “antacid jazz,” a jab at the legion of critics who’ve tagged his new-school stylings “acid,” which in critic speak has come to mean “jazz by young people in tee shirts.” Hunter certainly fits the profile–he’s sworn never to wear a suit onstage. In that respect,…
Henry Rollins Electric Ballroom November 16, 1996 Damn. I wanted to rip into Henry Rollins so bad I could taste a bloody scrap of his black Gap tee shirt on my tongue. Power Book ad-posing, 7-Eleven coffee-chugging, “Baretta” guy in better days, stunt-double-looking, Charles Bukowski rip-off bad haiku writing, underground…
“Supergroup” is one of the lamest, most cliched labels a music critic can slap on a band. The term conjures the image of conceited, balding, fallen guitar gods posed riding the cash cow on a reunion tour. Doubtless, Berkeley, California’s the Peechees will get the superdupe treatment by plenty of…
Various artists Shots in the Dark (Delphonic Sound) Oranj Symphonette Oranj Symphonette Plays Mancini (Gramavision) Inspector Clouseau may still be the anti-Bond, but the man who wrote his theme song has become the very epitome of stereophonic savoir-faire. Henry Mancini, the posthumous commander in chief of cocktail nation, won 20…
Karen Carpenter Karen Carpenter (A&M) Both A&M honchos (Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss) thought the solo album Karen Carpenter spent much of 1979 making was a bomb, and wanted it diffused without a public hearing. So did brother Richard Carpenter, but for more personal reasons. The chief architect of the…
High on the Vibe Saturday, November 9 Sixth Avenue and Jackson I am god. At least, that’s what Sunshine told me and 1,427 of my fellow deities near the climax of Dubtribe Sound System’s two-hour live house-music performance at High on the Vibe, a large rave in downtown Phoenix. Actually,…
In 1982, when up-and-coming video stars were trying to look like supermen of suave, Detroit-born singer Marshall Crenshaw came on like a mild-mannered Clark Kent, albeit one with a secret weapon–an encyclopedic knowledge of pop music past and present, which he readily applied to his own work. Shortly after his…
“We like fractured, broken sounds,” says Los Lobos sax man Steve Berlin. “We’re looking for that broken AM-radio sound, a certain poignancy that is more soulful, especially in this 32-bit digital world.” For Colossal Head, its first album of new material in four years, Los Lobos used an analog eight-track…
Wesley Willis Fabian Road Warrior (American) That thud you’re hearing is the sound of thousands of hardworking songwriters smashing their heads against a wall. Why? Because Wesley Willis–a tone-deaf, schizophrenic singer whose songwriting consists of a solitary, built-in Casio keyboard played ad infinitum–is being courted by a cavalcade of major…
Angry young men? Billboard’s overrun with ’em. Angry old men? Congress has cornered the market. But angry middle-aged men? Not a big draw. At 45, Graham Parker finds himself between a rocker and a hard sell, despite his protests that he’s “as mellow as a train wreck.” On his current…
The music we’ve come to know as techno, at least to some degree, has gone the way of earlier “underground” musics such as punk, heavy metal and hip-hop: It’s been commercialized. Granted, the techno one hears behind TV sneaker and beer commercials is a polished, homogenized version of what is…
Gary Allan Used Heart for Sale (Decca) Dolly Parton Treasures (Rising Tide/Blue Eye) The modern-day male country singer is a pop star now, a pretty boy in a store-fitted Stetson and pressed Wranglers. He’s more prefab than passion–his look copped from George Strait, his voice on loan from Garth Brooks,…
Chuck D Autobiography of Mistachuck (Mercury) He’s still the toughest-talking man in hip-hop, the self-proclaimed “Prophet of Rage” taking on the profits of rage that would dismiss him as the forgotten fossil–which, of course, he is when measured in hip-hop years. After all these years–after the rise and fall and…
Ska came first. Not reggae. But Rasputin died easier than the misconception that it’s the other way around. As the popularity of ska continues to swell–both for traditional ska acts like Hepcat and the Pie Tasters and ska-flavored pop tarts like No Doubt and Goldfinger–so does the myth that the…
Strange, how it feels, thinking you would-be Tony Montanas may be gunning for me. Strange, and not much fun. What I notice most is the thirst. It started last Wednesday afternoon, about four hours after the first of several local promoters, musicians and gang members I know called to warn…
Here was the future of rock ‘n’ roll. Here was the fabulous C.C. DeVille–would-be guitar hero, flat on his stomach and platinum hair askew–dreaming rock-star dreams on the nearly bare floor of Poison headquarters, circa 1985. Just a quiet moment for the self-proclaimed Glam Slam Kings of Noise, four young…
If your patented audio Halloween greeting is that old, dusty Chilling Thrilling Sounds of the Haunted House album, here’s a suggestion: This year, dump it and pipe out something that will inflict some genuine psychological damage. That’s right, surround your house with that most horrifying emanation from the rock-star ego–the…
Dear fools– I caught your wack excuse for a live set at the local hip-hop talent showcase last Friday (10/18) at Electric Ballroom. Your beats were tired, your rhymes had more bites than the house virgin in a vampire’s castle, and your delivery choked and backfired like an old Impala…
Sheep on Drugs Double Trouble (Invisible) Test Dept. Totality (Invisible) Sheep on Drugs and Test Dept. both have recently released albums on Invisible Records, and are now together on tour. Beyond those commonalities, the two British industrial bands are strikingly different. Test Dept. was a true pioneer of the sound…
Promoters are billing the Beach Boys, currently on their 35th-anniversary tour, as “America’s Fun, Fun, Fun Ambassadors.” But considering the dirty laundry the Wilson brothers and their bad-tempered cousin Mike Love have worn over the years, a more fitting alias might be “America’s Bad Boys of Rock!” What’s that you…
Playing inside at monstrous volume, a bass line from the Wu-Tang Clan hard-core rap track “Protect Your Neck” vibrates the black wreath nailed to the front door of Max Cavalera’s north Phoenix home. The music drops sharply when a visitor knocks hard, then rises again when Cavalera swings the door…
Back in 1993, Coco Montoya had enough trouble for three men: His longtime relationship was faltering, his weight had ballooned to 315 pounds, he was drinking himself silly, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. At the time, Montoya was still playing a supporting role after ten years as…
