While deciding whether to call its unique, infectious, wildly irreverent music “whiskey grass” or “whiskey folk,” the Single Malt Band trotted out a few other ideas — including “fiendishly adolescent, fried chicken, monster music” and “flies on the folk cuisine.” Good luck, pickers ‘n’ grinners. Ever since progressive bluegrass earned…
If music makes you move, you’re in luck: That’s what DJ M3’s name stands for. (Okay, so it was originally “Marijuana motivates the mind.”) The Bay Area beat boy is still all about good-time vibes and uses his mixes to take a crowd as far as it’s willing to go…
Unsung champions of the Delta blues have often boasted colorful nicknames. And while a memorable moniker never hurts a shot at notoriety — Jaybird, Bo Weavil, Scrapper and Peg Leg, for instance — few bluesmen go on to become household names, let alone footnotes to Robert Johnson. For Willie Houston,…
Expectations. Sometimes they can ruin everything. Most people spend half their time trying to cram everyone around them into molds and the other half of their time bitching about how nobody fits. Having a history doesn’t help; the things other people presume about you can hang around your neck like…
“I might have to go all of a sudden,” Holly Golightly says by way of introduction. “I’ve got food in the oven.” Golightly has cooked from a musical perspective since at least 1991, when she made her first impact on the global garage-rock scene. Still, it’s difficult to reconcile the…
It’s an age-old proverb: A prophet is never revered in his home town. That is, not until he moves to Los Angeles, signs a record deal, makes a brilliant debut album and becomes the hottest brand going. That the story of Patrick Park, Morrison native and Columbine High School graduate…
Prometheus, says the myth, stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. For this heinous transgression, he was chained to a rock and forced to listen to an infinite loop of the new Dashboard Confessional album. (Or maybe it was having his liver torn out and eaten by…
“Life?” asks Victoria Woodworth. “Mine’s a mess. That’s how I like it.” This take-it-as-it-comes attitude regularly shakes up Faultline, an impressive new disc that’s being celebrated this week by a trio of CD-release shows: Wednesday, October 1, at the Lion’s Lair, with Luther Wright & the Wrongs; Thursday, October 2,…
Ready for a little Swamp music? For those familiar with DJ Swamp only from his stint as a Beck backup boy, prepare to be impressed. The 1996 national DMC turntablist champion and self-styled “hip-hop equivalent of Rob Zombie” used money saved from touring with Beck to fund his solo disc,…
Sounding as excited as someone stuck in traffic, Lisa Marie Presley settles in for yet another goddamn media probe. Immortalized by enough tabloid clippings to sink a garbage barge, the Princess of Graceland knows the drill of being drilled all too well. After all, she’s lived in a publicity bubble…
It’s like the flutter of a bug caught in a cobweb, or the jittery split second before a first kiss, or maybe even one of those tics throbbing deep in your eyeball that make you seriously contemplate clawing out your vitreous humor to get at your retina. It all starts…
Shortly after releasing a critically acclaimed debut album — 1998’s 2000 Fold, on the Dust Brothers’ imprint, Ideal — a couple of left-coast emcees, Ryu and Tak, and their turntablist/producer, DJ Cheapshot, single-handedly created a deafening buzz in the underground, only to quietly disband early last year. After a brief…
It’s really easy to make fun of Dashboard Confessional: the bleeding heart on the sleeve, the unreasonably handsome frontman, the painfully adolescent angst. It’s all a bit cloying and laughable. And then there are the fans. Watching the diehards at a Dashboard show is almost like watching the last days…
Everyone’s cashing in on this whole “black” thing. Black Keys. Black Eyes. Black Dice. Black Flag. Black Sabbath. Ritchie Blackmore. None More Black. But California’s Black Rebel Motorcycle has got them all beat. Besides their black band name, the guys in the band have black hair, black boots, black jeans…
On the surface, writing totally objective local reviews for Westword would seem like an impossibility given the number of connections between the paper and the area scene. The two-man band called Blusom, which joins Centro-matic and the Royal We at the Larimer Lounge on Friday, September 26, is a case…
Grinding, pulsating sounds from inside the club at 1037 Broadway spill out onto the sidewalk, competing with chirping cell phones, loud conversations and a constant barrage of bodies coming in and going out. But despite all the heated activity, there’s no line to get in — at least not yet…
At times, the proliferation of talented collectives in the underground is overwhelming, even for the hip-hop cognoscenti who devote the majority of their time to manning the radar stations. In the last few years, a staggering number of artists have dropped albums with depth, texture and clarity the mainstream acts…
Like the frightening creatures that haunt its songs, Moore is a monster that just won’t die. Limbs — er, members, that is — have been hacked off, with replacements sewn on, sometimes only to be severed again. The current incarnation, though, seems stronger than ever. Brought to life in 1995,…
Lotus Magazine calls Bad Boy Bill the “Wilt Chamberlain of Techno.” The Chicago talent has long been proud of Bangin’ the Box, the five-volume-and-counting compilation series of underground dance cuts released on Bill’s own Mix Connection Multimedia tag. In the studio, he stands out for his frenetic blending style and…
Bob Rupp can’t stop smiling. Behind his drum kit, flailing his arms wildly, he looks like he’s either parking planes or simultaneously channeling the spirits of Keith Moon and Rikki Rockett. He’s having the time of his life, and who can blame him? This is the second-to-last time he’ll ever…
Nearly every article, review or blurb about Interpol, among the ripest acts to emerge from New York City’s bumper crop of nu-rock revivalists, dwells on the same theme: the quartet’s supposed sonic similarity to Joy Division, a memorably mopey late-’70s collective whose frontman, Ian Curtis, earned a spot in the…
When it comes to centers of power, none in history can approach the hubristic might of Washington, D.C., the seat of the American Empire. And yet, dwelling in the shadow of that city’s neo-classical white-marble monuments is a thriving, outspoken punk scene, one that revolves mainly around the independent Dischord…
