A name like Thad Cockrell does not suggest, oh, a starchy New York City financier, a burly Texas oilfield roustabout or even a fey San Fran choreographer. Well, he could be a dusty chap or cowpoke from down around Yuma way, but that’s not the point. No, when Ma and…
Rivers Cuomo took a chance a few years ago, and from the sound of it, he’llnever take another one, at least not any time soon.On 1996’s Pinkerton, he collected every one of his confused emotions and awkward missteps for public display, tying them to songs that abandoned Ric Ocasek’s studied…
On his recently released debut solo album, former Squeeze front man Glenn Tilbrook sings, “The Monkees weren’t a real band, but I still love them.”It’s a sentiment that probably speaks for millions of music fans, who long ago fell for the prime-time primates, and refuse to let issues like authenticity…
Early last month, a host of show-biz notables gathered at Radio City Music Hall for a TV tribute to John Lennon. Besides proving that Kevin Spacey can carry a tune (his faithful “Mind Games” was spirited, if a bit jarring), the show was a reminder that the work of a…
It’s been a long day at the office, academy, or widget factory, and you’re off to catch some live music. A perfectly respectable local band opens — college guys with cultivated scruff and fabulous vintage-shop couture. They’re followed by a Luvox diva singing about herself in front of video projections…
There is a song on Preston School of Industry’s new full-length, All This Sounds Gas, that harks back to Scott Kannberg’s stint as guitarist for one of the greatest indie rock bands of all time.Actually, there’s more than one tune on the record that brings to mind Kannberg’s role in…
Pokafase can’t decide what to call his latest song.The local rapper, known until a few months ago by local clubgoers as Cappuccino, MC in the two-man group Know Qwestion, is sitting in the north central Phoenix garage studio of his producer and chief collaborator, Fade. He’s listening to Fade’s vintage…
Last year’s acclaimed I Am Shelby Lynne was a personal and artistic breakthrough for a singer who’d nearly been crushed by a decade in the Nashville songmaking machinery. Right down to its pointed title, the record brimmed with Lynne’s hunger to establish an identity of her own, one not controlled…
Name something that’s better than the Klassic Kinks. Mini skirts? Not short enough. Cherry-chocolate layer cake? Not sweet enough. Two hundred pages by J.D. Salinger? Ray Davies could paint existential dysfunction as richly in three minutes. The Beatles and the Stones? Maybe combined. In the mid- and late ’60s, Dave…
Rock ‘n’ Roll Music is the sound of four guys with a past and unkempt hair (drummer Slim Jim Phantom, guitarist/vocalist Gilby Clarke, keyboardist Teddy Andreadis, and bassist/vocalist Muddy Stardust) sipping highballs, taking the piss out of each other and writing songs that traverse the space among Memphis, Beggars Banquet,…
There was a time, early in Hank Williams’ recording career, in 1947, when Williams was swinging pretty hard, when lead guitarist Zeke Turner was permitted to show a degree of uptown flash that would not appear in the later records. And there was a long-standing rumor that Williams had recorded…
It’s a sad fact that when most casual music listeners think of the blues these days, they’re likely to picture a mullet-headed, white journeyman cranking out the umpteenth tired version of “Born Under a Bad Sign,” for tight-assed corporate execs who think soul music is the stuff Vonda Shepard plays…
The only chore that goes along with being into the Dismemberment Plan — a Washington, D.C., outfit that in about three years has gone from being the oddity of the remarkably goal-oriented D.C. punk scene to perhaps the most creative underground guitar band in the country — is deciding which…
For those unfamiliar with the history of world jazz, to say nothing of Brazilian music in toto — that is, to most of your workaday music fans north of the equator — it’s difficult to explain just how monumental an album Gil and Milton is. Try to imagine the results…
Her Mystery Not of High Heels and Eye Shadow is Jonathan Richman’s first studio effort since 1999’s I’m So Confused. And though it is a solid offering — another slab of Richman’s pre-Beatles musings on love and wonder — it ultimately fails to enrich Richman’s oddball oeuvre. All of the…
Two decades ago, Iggy Pop made a rare TV talk-show appearance and was asked to explain his performance approach. Why did he go to such extremes onstage? What was the deal behind all the self-flagellation and drop-your-drawers exhibitionism?To Iggy, it all came down to Dionysus vs. Apollo. Iggy saw himself…
Jason Pierce doesn’t know how to read. Music, that is.Incredible, then, that Pierce has managed to construct dense, intricately crafted music over a career that’s spanned more than a decade, first as singer/guitarist for ’80s-era British psychedelic-rock icons Spacemen 3 and later as a founding member and the mastermind behind…
Sparing no expense and subjecting himself to an appalling level of moral compromise, Gumbo has secured numerous seedy contacts in the music industry who now supply yours truly with all manner of smut and trash on musicians who play roots music. So you think that National Public Radio interview with…
On the morning of Tuesday, October 30, Robin Nash went to work thinking she’d be unemployed in a couple of days.Nash, long the midday linchpin of alt-rock station KEDJ-FM 106.3 and KDDJ-FM 100.3 (The EDGE), had known since mid-September that her days were numbered on the Valley’s airwaves. That was…
Sometimes it seems the path to teen-pop stardom is traveled by supersonic space rocket. Drawing from our nation’s apparently abundant pool of singing and dancing dream prom queens, new Mandys, Krystals and Christinas are discovered, groomed, prepped and launched into the pop music limelight faster than George Jetson carpooling daughter…
When Stanley Kowalski mumbled, “What are you, a bunch of queens or something?” in A Streetcar Named Desire, he wasn’t fixing to pay his wife and nutty sister-in-law any compliments. But if he or you or anyone else were to burst in on the very sane women of W.O.M.B. with…
A 4-foot-by-6-foot Jolly Roger flaps from a post in my front yard. Gives the dirt plot a bit of shade while providing respite from so much Red, White and Blue. Yet, predictably, not everyone appreciates my goofy little symbol of free speech. The hostility in the air is thick and…
