In the last week of September, an odd thing happened: A Phoenix rap group managed to light up controversy all over the nation via an article that appeared on the front page of the Los Angeles Times by staff writer Chris Lee. The article, titled “Rap’s Captive Audience,” was about…
Who needs TV when I’ve got T. Rex?” Not local glam/’70s rock throwback band Crash Street Kids, who sing the legendary line from the David Bowie-penned “All the Young Dudes” with a sincerity that saves them from the “poseur” label. On a recent Friday night, I’m watching CSK play, along…
Face it, drummers don’t get much respect. There’s an overabundance of easily quoted jokes illustrating this fact, usually underlining surly sentiments about how skinbeaters are viewed as useless and interchangeable, including one oft-quoted barb asking, “What do you call someone who hangs around with musicians?” (A drummer.) But for local…
8mm consists of Sean Beavan, longtime producer for Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson, and his wife, Juliette. Sean creates hypnotic layers of downtempo grooves and dark trip-hop, while Juliette’s sultry, haunting voice sails over the soundscapes with a laissez-faire richness. Critics have compared 8mm to Portishead and filmmaker David…
Self-described “redneck woman” Gretchen Wilson rose from poverty in western Illinois to become a country music superstar, winning critical and popular acclaim for her 2004 debut CD, Here for the Party, and for her sophomore effort, All Jacked Up, released last year. A firebrand singer and crafty balladeer, she writes…
Let’s get it out of the way up front: KMFDM stands for “Kein Mitleid Für Die Mehrheit,” a German phrase that translates literally to “no pity for the majority.” But KMFDM founder Sascha Konietzko is perfectly okay with the popular theory that his industrial dance band’s name stands for “Kill…
Hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana, and based in Tempe since 2002, this hip-hop trio of Ether, Dirty Nap-Z, and Tusk One brings its gritty hip-hop — performed during the Blunt Club series and at venues like The Loft — to Scattered Data. “Don’t Stop” jumps out of the wind-up music box…
You’ve got to be intrigued when singer/guitarist Todd Staples says his band, Suicide Circus, is “along the lines as if Skynyrd and Pantera had an illegitimate baby and Zakk Wylde was the weird uncle that came around to baby-sit.” But listening to Suicide Circus’ self-titled disc is more than intriguing…
Its title an obvious tip of the blue cap to the great Gene Vincent, Racin’ the Devil finds Lee Rocker stepping out from the shadow of Brian Setzer’s pompadour, planting his upright bass at center stage, and tearin’ it up on vocals. And the way he sings, you’d almost swear…
An ugly guy could do a whole lot worse than to surround himself with half-dressed hot chicks — one of whom breathes fire — if he’s looking for attention in an underground scene swimming in ugly guys putting a punk-rock spin on AC/DC’s greatest hits. Stick “Pussy” in the band…
Is it just us, or is Ladytron sounding more human? The Liverpudlian neo-Fab Four seems to have had a crush on shoegazer and Stereolab since the release of its 2001 album 604, but 2005’s Witching Hour, Ladytron’s latest LP, marked a significant sonic shift. Now, that’s not to say that…
Melissa Ferrick’s been quietly fighting her way out of pigeonholes for the past few years. First, she got branded with the “granola/Lilith Fair crowd” label, not because she actually played at Lilith Fair in 1999, but because she’s a female singer-songwriter with an acoustic guitar. Then, she got stuck with…
As one of Wu-Tang Clan’s most popular members, Method Man is a ’90s hip-hop icon. “Hey, you, get off my cloud!” from “Method Man” is a hip-hop quotable as lasting as the Rolling Stones track from which he borrowed it, as are other Meth-isms like “Can I get a zoooooo”…
Boasting one of punk’s essential band names, The Vibrators played their first show 30 years ago, when punk was still a baby pulling the safety pins out of its diaper, supporting The Stranglers. By the end of that first year, they had a classic single out (“We Vibrate”) and had…
As if he wasn’t already busy enough running the ultra-popular Shake! on Saturdays at The Rogue East, DJ William Fucking Reed is kicking off another weekly dance night for hepcats and hotties alike with Pretty Vacant! at Anderson’s Fifth Estate, 6820 East Fifth Avenue in Scottsdale. Every Friday, Reed will…
A hefty chunk of Phoenix’s musical glory days is contained on these two discs, collections of soul and funk singles from the ’60s and early ’70s that remind the listener that the ‘Nix once aspired to be a real music town, like Detroit. Actually, listen to either one of these…
Thursday 19AZ 88: Mr. P-Body (synth pop, electro) Bunkhouse Lounge: DJ Doom (dance) Cash Inn: DJ Kat (country) The Crown Room: DJ Gable (rock, house, hip-hop) Grilled Expedition: DJs Playboy, & JeX (Top 40) Harley’s 2303: DJ Juan (progressive house) Hollywood Alley: Blunt Club with Emerg McVay, Hyder, Tricky T,…
Just a few Fridays ago, in the broad lobby of U.S. Airways Center, I, along with another hundred or so other people, got to witness the latest fusion of turntablism and classical instrumentation envisioned by DJ Radar and his longtime composer and collaborator, Raul Yañez. This time, unlike the Concerto…
If, as he suggests with the title of his new CD And Now That I’m in Your Shadow, Damien Jurado stands behind his whisper-voiced folk brethren like Sufjan Stevens and Iron & Wine’s Sam Beam, he undoubtedly moves front and center when it comes to delivering the somber smackdown. Jurado’s…
In the opening track of What the Toll Tells, Adam Stephens of San Francisco’s Two Gallants plays the role of a murderer facing the gallows, yowling like a tortured young Black Francis over country-punk guitars while keeping counsel with the dead. He’s shot his wife and dumped her body in…
Alfred Weisberg-Roberts, a.k.a. Daedelus, looks like a man from another time. He adheres to a style he calls “Victorian dandyism,” and sometimes he wears clothes that make him look like an 19th-century British gentleman. He grows his sideburns thick and long to accentuate his appearance. He calls himself a romantic…
If you’re jonesing for some new local tuneage that isn’t hardcore metal, pouty skinny-boy rock, or indie folk, look no further than Chief Beef. Chief Beef — singer/guitarist John Lipfert, bassist Christine Lipfert (yes, they’re husband and wife) and drummer Stewart Alaniz — just might be one of P-town’s best-kept…
