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…
Nirvana From the Muddy Banks of the Wishkah (DGC Records) Have you ever read a book so good you want to know what happens to the characters after you’ve finished it–whether they live happily ever after or die alone? Like literary classics, the very best rock bands continue to write…
Angel hates hippies. “They smell bad and their music sucks.” She also doesn’t care for yuppies (“hair-gel assholes”), ravers (“Mickey Mouse idiots”) or being called a riot grrl (“don’t even start with that shit”). Myrtle Beach, Florida, isn’t high on her list, either. “It’s fucking boring here,” complains the gutter-mouthed…
To date, there have been one official Who Farewell Tour in 1982, a Live Aid reunion in 1985 and a 25th-anniversary reunion in 1989 that basically was a rerun of the first farewell tour. Just as it takes the elderly longer to get out of bed in the morning, it…
John Cale Walking on Locusts (Rykodisc) When John Cale is in his deep and heavy mode, no one in rock ‘n’ roll is deeper and heavier. His old partner Lou Reed has to dress like a college professor, read his lyrics from a music stand and write dry, boring pieces…
Still Chirpin’ In 1973, the a cappella group the Persuasions released an album titled We Still Ain’t Got No Band. They ought to use that name for all their albums, and just add exclamation marks as they improve with age. One nice thing about soul, blues and R&B is there’s…
Valley rave promoters and other denizens of the local dance-culture underground are breathing a tentative sigh of relief after a recent online statement by a Phoenix police officer that denies any organized law enforcement effort to stamp out the Valley rave scene. “The truth about the anti-rave task force is…
Breakfast, Fred Green style: “Take a whole bag–stem, buds, seeds, everything–and cook it with a block of butter until it all burns down. Then you put the butter in the freezer and later, when you spread the butter on a piece of toast, you don’t waste any of the goods.”…
John Parish & Polly Jean Harvey Dance Hall at Louse Point (Island) Wherever Louse Point is, it’s nowhere near the sheep farms of Yeovil, where Polly Jean Harvey grew up, or the English beach house she currently calls home. From this recording, it more closely resembles the battle-torn landscape of…
More than a decade ago, the divine ones of punk rock sent forth a messenger to spread the virtues of three chords, sneers and six-packs; a proverbial vessel to carry on the proud missionary tradition of the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and the Beach Boys. Its name was the Queers,…
