Fuck the Strokes, fuck the Hives, and fuck every other slicked-out, overhyped rock band on the planet. If you want real rock ‘n’ roll, the kind that makes you wanna get all hopped up on booze and dangerous amounts of adrenaline and run around like a maniac bringing glorious chaos…
A few years ago, Shyne was set to take the place of the late, great Biggie Smalls at the top of the Bad Boy roster. His self-titled debut generated two popular singles and briefly added the phrase “that’s gangsta” to the short list of rap clichés. Then an altercation led…
Luddites, fear not — Mouse on Mars has not come to alienate you. On this, their eighth full-length, the Mice instead demonstrate a keen interest in nesting within more traditional song structures. And while no one’s going to mistake Mouse on Mars for, say, Harry Nilsson anytime soon, Radical Connector…
As part of Broward’s ongoing crusade to foster underground hip-hop, the All Night Garage Sale is a gathering of vendors from Broward and Miami-Dade slinging vinyl, tapes, CDs, and even eight-tracks for dirt cheap and a showcase for up-and-coming hip-hoppers. Of course, this night is about much more than beefing…
Check out The Show Is the Rainbow, Troubled Hubbled, and Sybris at 10 p.m. Wednesday, September 22, at the Lounge, 517 Clematis St., West Palm Beach. Call 561-655-9747.
If the notion of a revved-up rockabilly band specializing in pure Southern honky-tonk seems somewhat out of sync with South Florida’s tropical leanings, then perhaps we ought to remind you that this isn’t the first country combo molded down here. The Mavericks were regulars on the local circuit, serving up…
The following cell phone conversation was heard on a recent Saturday night at Alligator Alley, 1321 E. Commercial Blvd., Fort Lauderdale: You want to see Anacondas? I’m not going to shell out $10 to see a bunch of damn snakes eat a bunch of dumb people. Ice Cube’s not even…
The rowdy guys from Die Stinkin’, South Florida’s beach punk band, answer the question: If you were about to be executed, what would you have for your last meal? Eric Ridgemont, bass: Pineapple and ham pizza with a giant bucket of Guinness, and mashed potatoes with Guinness gravy. Brian McManus,…
Pompano Beach¹s Further Seems Forever began its career in 2000 with heartthrob extraordinaire Chris Carrabba on the mic. He left to form Dashboard Confessional in 2001, and FSF proceeded to go through several lineup changes and relationship woes, all while watching Carrabba claw his way out of Florida to be…
The following conversation was heard on a recent Saturday night at Surf Caf, 395 NE Spanish River Blvd., Boca Raton. One fellow, visibly perturbed that the object of his affection was there with an inferior male, took his frustrations to the parking lot and screamed: Why does she like that…
MTV’s “reality” show Cribs may show you what spoiled rock stars and actors can do with assloads of money (i.e., five SUVs in different colors, fountains, stripper poles, heat-sensitive security systems), but the only episode that came even close to reality — meaning paying bills, mowing the lawn, and unclogging…
Just ask the Dixie Chicks: The revolution will not be countrified. But that hasn’t stopped country-rock rebel Steve Earle from making The Revolution Starts… Now, his most political — and sadly unconvincing — statement to date. Whereas his past work deftly straddled the line between rhetoric and song, Revolution thrashes…
Impresario Madlib has adopted a new alter ego and created a new genre. In the U.K., they call it breakbeat. In the U.S., we use the term broken soul. Although some may view Madlib’s transition into DJ Rels as a radical change, Theme for a Broken Soul isn’t too much…
It’s no sworn secret that the ’90s shoegazer icons called Slowdive left an everlasting imprint on Ulrich Schnauss’ psyche. Taking his cue from the U.K. group’s vast, delayed wall of six-string swirls, textured electronics, and distant vocals, Schnauss has created his own IDM-based parallel universe of the Slowdive algorithm, which…
Teedra Moses. Remember the name. Write it down. Because she will be all over the radio very soon, with her debut CD widely recognized as one of the year’s best, so get it before it’s the hottest thing going and you can brag that you realized it first. Complex Simplicity…
You might think you’re old-school. Maybe you’re wearing gold chains. Maybe you’ve got an ironic Flock of Seagulls haircut or an even more ironic mustache. But you aren’t old-school. Reverend Horton Heat is old-school. His greaser hair and sock-hop-band finery place him firmly in the ’50s, as do the rockabilly…
The birth of feminist electro-punk was midwifed by three ladies: JD Samson, Johanna Fateman, and Kathleen Hanna, better-known as Le Tigre. And Hanna was one of the mothers of the early ’90s Riot Grrl movement, giving a middle finger to the establishment as the front woman of Bikini Kill. That’s…
Devin Marsh, a.k.a. Nori Nori, is not your typical musician. A graduate of the prestigious Berklee College of Music and a recipient of a B.A. in music education and a master’s in studio production, the former elementary school teacher and his merry band of men tap into roots reggae, jazz,…
South Florida is full of all sorts of weird and wonderful things. And one of those things is Nophi Records, a small, leftfield electronic label in Davie owned by producer Randy Garcia, who records under the moniker r_garcia. Though most local kids haven¹t heard of this 5-year-old imprint, Nophi has…
For a guy from South Queens, Prince Po — formerly Prince Poetry of the influential ’90s duo Organized Konfusion — places himself in serious company when he gives shoutouts to Depeche Mode, Smashing Pumpkins, Pharrell Williams, Radiohead, Black Sabbath, Jane’s Addiction, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Beatles, and the Clash…
Brendan Grubb (a.k.a. DJ I Regret to Inform You You Have Two Months to Live) answers the question: If you could have created the soundtrack for any movie, which would it be? If I were to rescore a film, it would have to be the seminal classic Vomitorium by [porn…
The sidewalk in front of the Poor House (110 SW Third Ave., Fort Lauderdale), a meeting place as old as a Georgia sunset for the local rock ‘n’ roll crowd, has disappeared. On a recent Wednesday, patrons driven outside by the night’s noise show sat in white plastic chairs, their…
