With everyone supposedly declaring war on Christmas in 2005, what better time for the good Reverend and his merry band to release We Three Kings: Christmas Favorites? In case you were hoping for “White Christmas” crossed with “Bales of Cocaine,” forget it. The Rev purposefully eschews sex, drugs and booze…
The septet Nous Non Plus scares up sumptuous cool on its self-titled debut, whipping elements borrowed from The Strokes, Stereolab, and The B-52’s into delectable French pastries. And so we get delights like “Lawnmower Boy,” in which the band makes like Guitar Wolf on a New Wave kick; the disco…
Phil Spector’s legendary “Wall of Sound” is the inspiration for this massive, engrossing collection of early ’60s girl groups. While Spector’s best-known sides are absent, it’s amazing to hear how creatively energizing his hits were during a brief period usually disparaged as a downtime in “rock’s maturity.” Among the standard…
It seemed like scenesters Mr Kline + The Wizards of Time’s new CD might never see the light of day. But after overcoming personnel setbacks, tape-machine failures, and synth man/co-producer Bob Hoag’s hiatus to record with The Ataris, the band saw it fitting to release two CDs simultaneously — the…
The self-titled debut album from She Wants Revenge isn’t due out ’til the end of January, but Halloween would’ve been a better time to drop music this dark. With lascivious lyrics about damaged relationships (“These Things”) and moonlit sadomasochism (“Monologue”), Justin Warfield sings in a brittle monotone that could freeze…
Keith Jackson, vocalist/guitarist for legendary local punk group Glass Heroes, wears his love for Joe Strummer on his sleeve — and then some. Not only has Jackson seemingly been grafted with the same old-school rough-and-tumble punk style of the late Clash singer, he’s penned poignant paeans to his “personal hero”…
If you’re toiling in a 9-to-5 job, telling yourself that one of these days your musical genius will be discovered, lemme tell you about Zach Schwartz. After years stuck in nowhere bands, Schwartz got canned from yet another job and decided, “Okay, that’s it.” Finally resolving to treat his music…
Uh, excuse us for a just a sec, but as the beyond-buxom breasts of one Candye Kane, the former porn star turned blueswoman, we’d like a word with you. We’re certain we’ve got your attention, due to the fact that your lecherous peepers have been riveted to us since our…
Whether he’s repping the Taliban, dubbing himself “human crack in the flesh,” or prefacing one of his many latently homosexual slip-ups with the transparently insecure caveat “no homo,” Juelz Santana is brilliantly bad. During his second verse from “Mic Check,” Santana sneezes, pauses, and declares, “God blessed me, yes that’s…
Lil Wayne is the Al Green of rap: He could recite the phone book and have listeners hanging on each of his curvaceous consonants and smoldering vowels. On Tha Carter, Vol. II, Wayne more or less does just that, injecting familiar rap tropes (sample chorus: “Get money, fuck bitches, get…
This eight-song EP provides the first real indication that U.K. grime may be more than just a passing fad. South London MC Lady Sovereign, already a battle-scarred veteran at 18, has all the confidence of a sassy 28-year-old, plus the charm and cheekiness of an 8-year-old. Against a backdrop of…
Gosh, Pedro Sanchez must have some mad skills besides owning sweet bikes or hooking up with chicks, since the newly elected class president of Preston High School has been visiting dance clubs and discotheques across North America lately. Then again, indie film actor Efren Ramirez just might be trying to…
Someday they’ll discover it’s not your environment at all, but a biochemical switch in the brain that determines whether you’re into stoner metal or the metal generally preferred by beer-swilling, hat-wearing types. If the members of Clutch do wear hats, they’re probably those trucker caps that say things like “John…
Christmas comes early this year in a pair of intimate Stiletto Formal shows, and it doesn’t matter if you’ve been naughty or nice. In fact, the arty, sex rocker-hipsters of Stiletto probably prefer the former. The band members are fresh off a string of tours and a sweaty sold-out show…
Rhino’s lavish reissues bookend T. Rex’s most fully cooked work, polishing maestro Marc Bolan’s legacy for any Yanks who still think of this overseas superstar as a trashy novelty. Not that trash is beside the point: Bolan’s 1972 masterpiece, The Slider, is full of the kind of grubby teenage reverie…
Back in the spring, when I first heard Fine China’s new album, The Jaws of Life, I fixated on the idea of hidden Phoenix treasures. The album’s great from the first listen — moody, Brit-styled pop, but by a band based here. The album’s easily one of the best local…
If hip-hop’s all about the handle, the hooks, and the homies, then local wordsmith Chilee Powdah’s got the full package. His name (complete with a double “e” for easy rhymes) has thug appeal, and his album Code of Loyalty boasts a combination of thumping club beats, catchy choruses, genre-pimpin’ from…
The travel bug bit Stereo Typed hard on the Phoenix hip-hop trio’s debut full-length. As the album title suggests, these guys get around — but they’re more globe trekkers with a message than bling-seeking jet-setters, delivering political criticism (with minimalist bass grooves on “Energy Raw Power”), social consciousness (weaving words…
Gorgeous bluegrass shaded with a blend of contemporary pop and rock influences, the San Diego trio Nickel Creek’s supple, earthy tones blow gracefully across genre-bending arrangements. Their new album, Why Should the Fire Die?, transcends categorization, and while it doesn’t fully break with their Americana pedigree and the style of…
In the past 10 years, Cave In has made itself a household name among hardcore, indie and metal fans. The Boston band became the king of split records by sharing discs with the likes of Piebald and Scissorfight. Following tours with Converge, the band was slapped with the “metal” label,…
Known for his beat-juggling skills with his ’90s New York DJ crew the X-Men (who would later become the X-ecutioners, so as not to get sued), Rob Swift blew minds back then by incorporating rival West Coast crew the Invisibl Skratch Piklz’s manic, extraterrestrial scratching with East Coast beat juggle…
With Confessions on a Dance Floor, Madonna makes progress in returning to form after the preachy, pale American Life, but this seamless, beat-filled ode to dance clubs isn’t enough to restore her pop relevance. These are the sounds of 1998, halfway between the Chemical Brothers and Stardust, and on “Sorry,”…
