Since 1979, John Ahearn and Rigoberto Torres have lived in the dark heart of the South Bronx, collaborating on the making and painting of plaster life casts of the habitus of the inner-city neighborhood once described by writer Jane Kramer as "arguably one of [New York's] poorest, saddest, shabbiest, most...
Since 1979, John Ahearn and Rigoberto Torres have lived in the dark heart of the South Bronx, collaborating on the making and painting of plaster life casts of the habitus of the inner-city neighborhood once described by writer Jane Kramer as "arguably one of [New York's] poorest, saddest, shabbiest, most...
It's easy to dislike Frank Ellena. He is loud and argumentative, with a boorish and aggressive manner that is instantly alienating. A large, hulking figure, he has a plump, oval face surrounding two eyes that bulge and burn with righteous anger whenever his views or logic are even gingerly questioned...
For her ride, the quinceaera has chosen the bed of a 1978 Chevy El Camino with a lipstick-colored, scooped-out interior. She floats in her velvety hot tub on wheels like a cloud, swaddled in sequins as the driver pilots the car toward the aging church on 17th Avenue just south...
Guided by moonlight, we easily slide through a seam in the chain-link fence surrounding the property and head for the back door of the grand old house. Built by Tempe's only mayor of Hispanic descent in 1883, the now-battered brick-and-adobe home has become a tombstone marking the death of Tempe's...
All right. Before we dive into the always controversial and titillating world of local reviews, let me tell you this: I went to see rockabilly shouter Robert Gordon at the fine establishment that is the Rockin' Horse the other night. Some of you were there, too, a handful of Gordon...
When the flames from the arson fire were put out last month, investigators discovered human remains in the upstairs bedroom. While dental records were the only way to identify the charred body of 24-year-old Michael Despain, there was one piece of physical evidence the fire did not destroy: The male...
Towering trees line the twisting country lane leading to the top of Seminary Ridge in the horse country of Lutherville, Maryland. At the crest of the hill, where Mays Chapel Road bears sharply to the left, lies an old wooden post marking the entrance to one of Baltimore County's few...
No doubt it's a bit late in the game to begin a Gin Blossoms story with the headline "Local Band Makes Good." The saga of the Tempe quintet--from the early days at Mill Avenue beer joints through the tours and Letterman appearances to the suicide of Doug Hopkins last December...
In Tim Burton's recent big-screen biography of Ed Wood, actor Johnny Depp re-created key scenes from several of that Grade Z movie director's masterworks from the 1950s: In the climactic flying-saucer attack that highlights Plan 9 From Outer Space, flaming paper plates dangling from fishing poles strafe a papier-mch model...
I had time to kill. So before last Saturday night's Arizona State football game, I went to Fat Tuesday, one of those joints that have created a blight along Mill Avenue in Tempe. You know the kind of place. If you have a ticket stub, they will give you $1...
War of the Super Buses--The Confrontation: Last week on these very pages, you were promised the titillating lowdown on the ultimate grudge race to the death--the power-packed, diesel-only dirt on a new low in merchandising gimmickry. That's right, the toy replicas of the mighty touring coaches of country legends Billy...
Dead Hot Workshop River Otis (Seed/Atlantic) You know about Dead Hot Workshop. You've heard 'em, you've seen 'em. It's the band most likely to succeed the Gin Blossoms as Tempe's top pop export. Indeed, many would argue that Dead Hot was the best band on Mill Avenue back before the...
The Beat Angels at Long Wong's? Unthinkable? Impossible? Perhaps, considering the bile that the Angels' fey, puckish singer Brian Smith has spewed on the Mill Avenue "scene" in these very pages. But apparently, Smith and the boys' insatiable need to simply "entertain" won out; last Saturday, "bile" turned to "smile"...
Russell Sepulveda wears a cowboy hat and sings with a twang. His songs leave room for pedal-steel-guitar breaks, and his bands--both of 'em--cover C&W tunes by the likes of Buck Owens and Gram Parsons. Sound like a country boy? Not quite. "Country music today is so far from its roots,"...
Let us now perform a general dissection of the various forms of rock 'n' roll music being performed in the Valley of the Sun. There are the pop guitars on Mill Avenue that go jingle jangle jingle; there is the bouffant metal of Phoenix; you've got your neohippie groove funk;...
Well-Bread: In the old days, you'd walk into a sandwich shop at lunchtime and order a BLT on white toast or a ham and cheese on rye. Not anymore. These days, your sandwich bread is much more likely to come directly out of the oven than out of a Wonder...
Like organic tomatoes, natural peanut butter and tofu hot dogs, controversy has always been a hot commodity around Tempe's Gentle Strength Co-op. Let someone suggest anything more substantive than "Have a nice day," and you can be sure some disgruntled faction inside the member-owned cooperative will squawk that the organization...
Think of the conventional rock 'n' roll ne'er-do-well of recent generations: the angry greaser, the macho rocker, the sneering punk. Mix their DNAs and saddle the results with a guitar. You'll get something that looks a lot like Keith Jackson. That's him leaning against a wall in the parking lot...
The mad scientist of scooterdom is a little guy in shorts by the name of Bob Darnell. In truth, he is not so little--maybe five feet nine or ten, possibly five feet eight, he's not exactly sure--but he seems small in the diminutive, oil-spattered world he's created from an old...
Instead of the usual rambling nonsense on how I wasted my weekend (though this one did involve garlic, a mood ring, nausea, high-speed travel, and a fat, squirrelesque employee at a convenience store in Cottonwood with a pulsating red scar on his forehead), let's head straight into what really matters:...
You're Dead Hot Workshop. You're a hometown hit in Tempe. The locals consider you the Valley's next prime music export. You've recently signed a major-label deal and you're starting out on an extended tour designed to introduce yourself to the great American masses. That's you, a day and a half...
