WED 1/12 While the Blunt Club has been lighting up the Priceless Inn, 5014 South Price in Tempe, for almost three years, promoter Adam Dumper (a.k.a. Dumperfoo) is promising something decidedly dope on Thursday, January 6, when the third round of the “All B-Boys Armory Hip-Hop Invasion” goes down. Two…
SAT 1/8 Has it really been five years since we all got our collective panties in a bunch over the misplacement of a few lousy zeroes? If you’ve already forgotten the experience of crouching in your shelter with a shotgun in one hand and a flute of Brut in the…
WED 1/12 Sure, the Suns are the hottest commodity in the basketball world these days, except perhaps for the Argentine Olympic team. But wouldn’t it be refreshing to watch some other really talented Phoenix hoopsters who actually pay for the pleasure of diving for loose balls and taking a hard…
First Fridays have long been the spot for lucky scenesters to score, whether it’s scamming some hottie’s digits or getting the skinny on local music. But hepcats can double up on depravity in one spot during the hippest night of the month at the Paper Heart’s fifth annual “Sex, Drugs…
Her career lasted eight years. Her legacy has lasted for more than 40. When Patsy Cline died in a plane crash in 1963, she’d released only three albums. Hundreds of reissues, compilations and tribute albums later, Cline’s become a cultural icon, a role she probably would have hated, according to…
Clint Eastwood began digging into the third act of his career — the one that reveals the mature, deep-thinking artist . . . with a little jazz piano on the side — a dozen years ago, with the discomfiting anti-Western Unforgiven. Since then, he’s hardly come up for air or…
Casket Life’s latest press release jokes that the Tempe punk quintet’s plans for 2005 include heavy drinking, but it’s clear from the band’s brief résumé that time spent at the bar hasn’t gotten in the way of kicking ass onstage or in the recording studio. Since forming less than two…
You’d need a thousand tongues to taste every culture in New Orleans, and a four-CD boxed set with an 82-page, full-color book to appreciate the sundry musical styles meshing within the Big Easy. Doctors, Professors, Kings & Queens: The Big Ol’ Box of New Orleans contains more than five hours…
The ominous grooves that Shivaree creates for its tales of treachery, frustrated sexuality and emotional defeat sound like the music escaping a carny sideshow tent after midnight. Eerie hints of tango, girl-group R&B, spaghetti Western guitar and musical saw all drift through the music’s disjointed landscapes, weaving a spell that…
Eric Seven, the nucleus of electronic/industrial band Radio Free America, doesn’t strike you as the Trent Reznor type — not even the Dave Gahan/Depeche Mode type, or any other iconic related-genre artist. Sitting on the porch of his producer Daggrr’s small Tempe house, smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka with diet…
Cindy Dach, 38, who co-founded the eye lounge gallery/ artists’ collective with her husband, photographer and public arts advocate Greg Esser, talks about the couple’s latest labor of love, Writers’ Bloc, a California-style bungalow just off Roosevelt Row that soon will be home to downtown’s first writers’ collective. While Cindy…
When I arrive at her office at the Arizona House of Representatives, termed-out Republican Representative Karen Johnson is Scotch-taping the hem of her skirt, which has come unraveled and which she’s rolled up into her lap for a quick repair. She laughs when I offer to help, and waves me…
It’s been decades since Chuck Berry merged country and blues pickin’ to write the book on rock ‘n’ roll guitar, and while white Nashville and black Memphis are in the same state, sharing the same cultural roots, you’d never know it unless you’re a roots-music fanatic. Jesse Dayton may not…
FRI 1/7 Sick of the slick, production-driven artwork that passes for hip in other galleries? Kathy Cone, artist and owner of the Cone Gallery, 1324 Grand Avenue, offers the sort of space where edgy art and music can flourish and provide an antidote to the cheesy Southwestern clichés you might…
At first glance, White Noise looks like one more supernatural thriller aimed at the audience that’s easily scared and easily parted from its hard-earned cash. It will be lumped in among the Rings, Grudges, Otherses, and other gotcha creep shows inhabited by rancorous ghosts and pissed-off ghouls out to off…
Over a three-month period in 1994, machete-wielding Hutu tribesmen in Rwanda hacked to death 800,000 Tutsi men, women and children. News reports, including film footage of the unfolding carnage, were broadcast around the globe. In the face of such unremitting acts of inhumanity, the world community did nothing. It wasn’t…
With the recent (but supposedly temporary) closing of the Priceless Inn/Boston’s, home of the weekly Blunt Club hip-hop extravaganza, local heads might be worried about filling their nighttime schedules with enough beats and rhymes to keep them from withdrawal convulsions. For now, fear not — Universatile Music, which has brought…
If you didn’t know otherwise while listening to this spellbinding EP, you might swear it’s a recently unearthed Alan Lomax field recording from the 1930s rather than the product of a contemporary alt-folk singer-songwriter. Seattleite Jurado generates that no-fi vibe through the use of “salvaged” reel-to-reel tape (in all its…
“It’s all downhill from here,” Eryn Young declaims on “The Last Migration,” and the band makes good on its threat with a sinister disc overflowing with bleak melodies and an atmosphere fueled by an unlikely mix of electronica and Americana. This husband-and-wife team occupies a space somewhere between the Handsome…
Junior Kimbrough was a bluesman from the north Mississippi hill country, far enough from the delta to escape the encroachment of most modern conveniences. It was there, removed from outside influences, that Kimbrough developed his wild-ass, uncontrolled style, with rhythms full of unexpected twists and turns and a primal vocal…
Wes Anderson’s new film is his moodiest, most adult yet: Bill Murray’s Steve Zissou, a washed-up oceanographer-filmmaker plainly modeled after Jacques Cousteau, has a heart of gold, of course, but he also curses and behaves irrationally and commands unpaid interns to make him lattes on stolen espresso machines. The film’s…
What? You’ve never chain-smoked three packs of unfiltered cigarettes, gone without seeing daylight for six weeks straight, sauntered around town with a dime-store noir in the back pocket of gasoline-soaked jeans, nodded off in the corner in a heroin stupor, or screeched through the dodgiest part of town in a…
