It would be wrong to dismiss Seattle’s Blood Brothers as a run-of-the-mill hardcore or punk band. Yes, singers Jordan Blilie and Johnny Whitney are capable of screams and screeches more grating than Godzilla’s nails on a giant chalkboard. But it doesn’t take a genius to see the group’s penchant for…
The most amazing thing about this British quartet’s second album is that it got made at all, considering how co-singer/guitarist Pete Doherty has spent the last two years getting nicked for drugs and switchblades, being jailed for burglarizing his bandmate’s flat, and being shipped off to rehab for heroin and…
Tom Waits is back, and he’s a little hard to love. The man capable of writing a ballad as fragile as a convict’s conscience just wants to make the sonic equivalent of a dirty bomb. The result is an album full of wicked foot-stompers, riddled with minor-key buzzmuffle and drenched…
If you have to rip someone off, at least shoot for the good shit. New York City’s the Exit picks some great bands to plagiarize, but oddly enough, the trio covets its victims’ more lackluster work: U2’s October, the Police’s Synchronicity, Bad Brains’ I Against I. One man’s trash, though,…
It’s difficult to overstate the impact of De La Soul’s debut release, 3 Feet High and Rising. Spawned by a thriving New York scene with artists such as KRS-One, Kool Moe Dee and Big Daddy Kane, De La Soul took rap in a different direction, eschewing the heavily funk and…
There aren’t but a few guitarists from the ’80s underground with the skill of Dave Alvin, and none with the versatility. Whether leading punkabilly rockers The Blasters, playing with gothic-punkers The Flesheaters, standing in for Billy Zoom as guitarist for L.A. punk originals X, or forging his own catalogue of…
If you’ve sat alone in a Starbucks, if you’ve wandered aimlessly in a Borders bookstore, if you’ve gone shopping anywhere after 9 p.m., you’ve probably been quietly assaulted by Norah Jones’ octa-Grammy-winning music and perhaps felt like you should be home doing something nice for yourself (the similar comfort zones…
Slithering around and wiggling in shiny shirts to house music is all right, and bouncing up and down in your Sean John gear to remixes of Fat Joe’s “Lean Back” isn’t a bad way to kill an evening, but sometimes you just need to push the envelope and spazz the…
They didn’t put Aberdeen on the musical map with their 1987 debut — it took Nirvana to do that. All the same, the Melvins’ place in rock cultdom is assured for being the first post-punks to make it safe to like slow and plodding metal bands like Black Sabbath. Arguably,…
Finally, a reason to break out those checkerboard creepers that have been gathering dust in the back of your closet since the mid-’90s third-wave ska revival! New York City’s Toasters are honest-to-goodness American ska pioneers, and they’ve stayed true to the genre’s Jamaican R&B roots while many of their peers…
Kimya Dawson was half of the Moldy Peaches, the New York City-based anti-folk supergroup she formed with Adam Green in the late ’90s. The Peaches merged primitive guitar whacking with lyrics that gloried in childlike obscenities. “Who’s Got the Crack?” was a surprise hit in England, but the self-imposed naivet…
Junior Brown is a country artist — if you still think country means drinkin’, cheatin’ and hard-core honky-tonk music — but his omnivorous musical appetite and monster chops defy easy categories. Down Home Chrome opens with “Little Rivi-Airhead,” a Beach Boys-meets-Ernest Tubb rocker that also tips its cowboy hat to…
Nancy Sinatra doesn’t want to be Debbie Harry or Marianne Faithfull or even Nick Cave. Fact is, everybody wants to be Nancy Sinatra. And, it turns out, not the Nancy of Boots and Sugartown and all those Lee Hazlewood numbers, but the Nancy who lives today, apparently undiminished in attitude…
Emerg McVay’s a one-man verbal blitzkrieg, a black Osama bin Laden piloting a lyrical 747 right into the core of your cranium. Preconceived notions? Kick ’em to the curb, yo. Especially if you think that P-town can’t blow up like ATL, the Lou, and Chi-town before it. Just listen to…
Now with their hot-selling Let It Enfold You, the avenging emo-nerds of Senses Fail are gonna put all you mean girls in your place. When they’re empowered, like on “Cute When You Scream,” they might “take you to the top of this building and just push you off/Run down the…
“. . . Holy shit, this is some good shit, man [cough, cough]. The hydro-fuckin’-ponic, dude! Oh, duuude, I almost forgot, man, you gotta check out this band, right . . . what? Oh, I’m watchin’ Aqua Teen Hunger Force, man [cough, cough]. It’s a marathon — sweet, right? Yeah,…
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Snow Patrol — an alternative for those of you put off by Chris Martin’s floppy Muppet histrionics and questionable baby-naming skills. This Scotland-via-Ireland quartet is led by Gary Lightbody, who is also known in indie circles for leading the low-key supergroup Reindeer Section, which comprises members…
Philadelphia-based singer/songwriter Jill Scott doesn’t indulge in the sweeping generalizations that sometimes bog down work by her peers in the neo-soul scene — moon-June appreciations of honey-dripped thighs and eyes like God’s skies. In tunes like “The Fact Is (I Need You)” and “Family Reunion” she does the opposite, writing…
The main question here is not “Is it good?” but “Is it necessary?” Ever since pent-up indie kids learned to stop worrying and love the Rasta, British labels like Trojan and Soul Jazz have been offering prime, pure lumber to meet the growing demand. And while it’s valuable to have…
Why a trio with such a sunny, uplifting vibe named itself after one of the most annoying insects on the planet is anybody’s guess, but on its second outing, it offers up another generous 15-track helping of twinkling pop gems that fuse the bright, cheery vibe of ’60s bossa nova…
Inexplicably, La Tarea’s nine-song demo finally found its way to this column two seasons after the local shows it was sent in to promote. Pulling back the shroud of mystery deflates the fun somewhat, but know this — Chris, Cory, Devon and Sam are young. They are gifted (Devon can…
If you lived in Manhattan during the ’80s, it was almost unthinkable that you could go out to a club or bar and not hear the blues. The generous called it a blues boom, but aesthetically it was a blues glut — too many musicians playing too many shuffles in…
