Most Popular
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To Hug a Porcupine
Three little boys set out to destroy the parents who loved them. This isn't how adoption is supposed to work.
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Sexual Healing
Sad stories and otherwise freaky tales from Florida's last sexual surrogate
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Cookie Monsters
It's the old diet doc versus the marketing gun in the great war of the tasty appetite suppressors
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Smoked Tuna in the Can
He was the first big bust of the War on Drugs. That and two bits won't get you a cup of coffee.
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Shark Huggers
Tourists can't wait to get next to them – even if they are eating machines
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Recent Articles
Recent Articles by Lee Zimmerman
National Features >
Broward-Palm Beach New Times
For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.
By Michael J. Mooney
City Pages
It's not just giant companies cashing in on America's defense industry.
By Jeff Severns Guntzel
The Pitch
How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."
By Justin Kendall
Houston Press
A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.
By Robb Walsh
The Everybodyfields
Published on September 20, 2007
Call it down-home or downcast; the Everybodyfields' restless recasting of neo-Appalachian folk tradition is nothing if not emotive. The title of their third album, Nothing Is Okay, may suggest a certain pessimistic perspective, and while cochairs Sam Quinn and Jill Andrews tend to skew their sound toward more melancholic musings, they also craft songs that are both heavenly and heartbreaking. With acoustic guitars, pedal steel, and fiddles providing a supple cushion for their aching, wistful vocals, Quinn and Andrews trade off leads, a sort of emotional yin and yang that gives a he/she perspective to tales of broken bonds and quiet desperation. "Tuesday" emerges among the best of the bunch; when Andrews coos "Hey, it's me, I know it's 3 a.m./Saying please pick up the phone," anyone's who's ever been on either end of a shattered relationship will empathize with that feeling of abject desperation. It's hardly the sort of stuff you want to crank up the next time the gang's over for fun and games. But the next morning, when you're shaking off a hangover and wondering what you could have said to keep your lover from insisting it's over, the Everybodyfields might just give you some kind of solace in knowing you're not the only one basking in such sorrows.