Since its inception, the world of turntablism has spawned some whacked-out characters and spun off into some surreal, sci-fi realms. Between crews like the Invisible Scratch Picklz, the Bulletproof Scratch Hamsters, the X-Men, and the Beat Junkies, you can find huge talent and even huger personalities. But of all of…
Something cherished goes away, and something new takes its place. Last Sunday night, a rabid crowd bid a cathartic farewell to Awesome New Republic at Churchill’s Pub, South Florida’s oldest, most venerable rock ‘n’ roll mecca. Here’s the only band that can sound sexy singing “Poody poo poo poo, I…
Torche has been cutting mighty swaths with its down-tuned scythe for some time now; the band’s full-length debut on Robotic Empire Records last year garnered praise from both indie and major press camps. These veterans of the local scene are rumored to have most of a second album completed, and…
It’s hard to imagine Panic! At the Disco has much to panic about, considering how much ridiculously good fortune has befallen the band in the past few years. Shortly after forming and naming themselves after a line in the Name Taken song “Panic,” the high school-aged, Las Vegas-based fourpiece posted…
Attending an Aimee Mann show is no different from flipping a coin. Some nights, she’s on — clouds part, angels sing, souls are saved. Others, you’re left scratching your head as to why you didn’t just order takeout instead. Let’s hope the recent release of The Forgotten Arm will provide…
Unlike bands who spend entire careers composing songs, desperately hoping to stumble upon the secret formula for pop-hit status, the Detroit Cobras skip the hubbub and go straight to the source. For more than ten years, the Cobras have un/covered obscure, übercool soul tunes from decades past and updated them…
Ah, Valentine’s Day — that one day a year when you can say, “Baby, I love you as much as a diamond pendant from Zales.” Or, if you’re one of the unlucky ones: Ah, Valentine’s Day — that one day a year when the loneliness actually gets worse. That’s because…
Hot Chip is the precocious U.K. outfit that’s gonna split listeners down the middle like a sharp ax through cordwood. The slow-bumping, lo-fi reverie of Coming on Strong is so calculatedly fuzzy and detached that it begs the same questions of hip-hop authenticity that LCD Soundsystem did to dance: Are…
Cat Power is the greatest femme misérable in hipster rock. While other sad-slacker singers have waxed and waned — changing course, as Beth Orton did, or dropping from sight like Shannon Wright — she-cat Chan Marshall’s moon has risen with each new release. Yet despite the blunt boast of its…
When Yellowcard frontman Ryan Key was writing the follow-up to 2003’s platinum-selling major-label debut, Ocean Avenue, the Florida-born former punk rocker was struggling for inspiration. Although surrounded by a bevy of beautiful ladies in Los Angeles, Key found himself without a female muse. And so, refusing to let his single…
All the kids love the ’80s. Just look at the tight-pants-wearing, asymmetrical-haircut-sporting throngs of post-teens jittering to those totally rad retro hits. And here come Hall and Oates, our original poodle-cut heroes. The duo coalesced back in 1969 while fleeing from a gang shootout in Philadelphia during a show they…
New Times is, politically, a nonpartisan newspaper. You’ve probably noticed that we get off on bugging everybody. Hell, we recently ran an exposé about our own mother’s humiliating iced tea addiction and the appalling lack of chocolate chips in her homemade cookies. But when it comes to music, we like…
This weekend, springing back after the cancellation of its original early-November date, Fort Lauderdale’s venerable Riverwalk Blues Festival celebrates its 19th anniversary. That’s nearly senior status in South Florida years. But the blues, of course, is a truly ancient language, extending back through generations, threading through centuries, bridging continents in…
On Rock & Roll Is Dead, Sweden’s favorite sons of bitches come flying out of the gate with “Before the Fall,” a swell Chuck Berry-cum-MC5 ditty that harks back to the Hellacopters’ nitro-burning early daze. But the album quickly settles back into the arena pop of the past two CDs…
There are a lot of people who think ska is dead — horns twisted and broken, checkered shoes returned to Goodwill — but these are the same people who didn’t know ska existed before 1996. The Ska Brawl tour is proof ska is still alive, not to mention that as…
With this double bill, it seems the fine administrators of the City of San Diego have assembled an audio/visual review, straight from their beachside city to ours. The brochure might read something like: Get your indie on with Goodbye Blue Monday, which boasts angular guitars and a rock-solid rhythm section!…
Sometimes this lofty pursuit of music journalism can be just as self-absorbed as the industry whose tail it chases. Case in point: the 33rd installment of the Village Voice’s annual Pazz and Jop critics’ poll, published last week (pazzandjop05). Seven hundred and ninety-five contributors from outlets across the country voted…
How many amazing soul musicians are stuck performing in wedding bands, answering to the whims of brides and grooms who wouldn’t know the difference if Aretha Franklin herself showed up for the gig, all because the music industry has its head up its ass? A lot, and a lot. We’re…
For several semesters now, Tortoise has served as the metaphorical grad assistant of indie rock. You know — the pale, aging guy who discusses deconstructionist paradigms for fun. So normally, rock critics, being overeducated in the ways of music and feeling a bit superior ourselves, would be all over Tortoise’s…
Oakland-based R&B singer Goapele spends plenty of time on her second album describing the indelible virtues of everlasting love. Example: “First Love,” a lush slow jam with fluttering electric guitar and tinkly Motown piano in which she flashes back “six days into spring where our story begins,” recounts her slow…
One’s 30th birthday is typically the staging ground for life crises and philosophical introspection, and Jenny Lewis’ own impending milestone has given birth to Rabbit Fur Coat, a quiet solo departure from the power pop of Lewis’ other band, Rilo Kiley. Backed by the literally named Watson Twins, Lewis abandons…
