Please excuse Nick Diamonds and Jaime T’ambour while they resurrect themselves. If you’ll recall, they bought the proverbial farm at the conclusion of the Unicorns’ landmark Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?, a sort of fey, goofy, indie-rock Final Exit. The Canadian pair have since jettisoned Alden Ginger,…
Let’s continue this column’s recent praise of South Florida underground hip-hop. Between Wreckonize, newcomer Protoman, a handful of the MCs from Efon’s Free Album, and of course the Audio Thrift Shop crew, we’ve amassed a real-deal, true-school scene right here in Broward County. It’s a reality we should celebrate. And…
Many people love the visceral, passionate explosion in contemporary music that’s been called emo, screamo, post-hardcore, and any of a million and one hipster catch phrases. Many of these same people grew up with the original NES (Nintendo Entertainment System). Many of these people love comedy. Enter Horse the Band,…
South Floridians have a natural facility for many things: elevating flip-flops into fashion items, marketing sunshine to French Canadian tourists, subsisting on chicken wings and light beer. One area we haven’t mastered, though, is this crazy Internet thing. Somehow, South Florida — flush with an emerging cultural identity, numerous media…
C’mon, folks, give it up for the Earth. I mean, stuff like mountains, sunsets, dolphins, and shooting stars are totally cool, not to mention cheeseburgers and sex in tall grass. For all you do, Earth, the least we can do is give you a day. For the seventh straight year,…
Atlanta’s Family Force 5 creates a dubious first impression at best. Much like the mustachioed, pudgy crooner Har Mar Superstar, it’s hard to tell if the act is a colossal, ironic joke the rest of us might not be getting. After all, the slogan of this group of five, pasty,…
Editor’s note: At press time, we learned that Pretty Ricky’s April 15 concert at Revolution has been rescheduled for June 2. Last year around this time, Pretty Ricky was blowing up. Four brothers named Spectacular, Pleasure, Diamond (AKA Baby Blue), and Slick ’em locked up the airwaves with “Grind on…
As we’re all painfully aware, Monday is this year’s tax deadline. For the average 9-to-5 shmoe, that means scrounging through a pile of employment forms, bank statements, and gas receipts for stuff to write off. Of course, some people try deducting every receipt in the house, from so-called business meetings…
Jeez-o-pete if Sweden’s favorite sons-a-bitches the Hellacopters don’t fly outta the gate with a swell Chuck Berry-cum-MC5 rezip (“Before the Fall”) — distorted, fast, a little Sha-Na-Na, but a definite wee-hoo! Surely they’re back to the nitro-burning of their mid-’90s daze. Well, not exactly. Nicke Andersson’s lead vocals aren’t as…
With Method Man and the RZA lost in film, the GZA and Raekwon lost in action, and Ol’ Dirty Bastard lost in drugs, madness, and eventually death, Ghostface Killah became the Wu-Tang Clan’s most visible member just by continuing to show up. In fact, he’s done more than that; despite…
Wayne Coyne promised a return to the guitar-grinding Flaming Lips of yore with At War With the Mystics, and he does — kinda — deliver. Just like the Oklahoma freak rockers’ ADD stage show, there’s more of everything here, guitars being just another sliver of the whole gonzo pie: more…
A little over three months into its swanky, swinging existence, the Jetsetter Lounge has hit cruising altitude and seems to be settling in for a long, leisurely ride. Owner/alpha-jetsetter Mike Jones is like a lava lamp of great ideas: new theme nights, happy — check that — “ecstatic hour” parties,…
Perhaps you haven’t had the pleasure of taking part in the fried-chicken-eating, boogaloo-dancing, good ol’-fashioned hoedown that is a Southern Culture on the Skids show. Maybe you haven’t heard the Appalachian surf-punk, mud-soaked guitar playing of Rick Miller. There is an off-chance that the incredible power of the beautiful, bouffant-clad…
Debauchery was on Beatcomber’s mind at this year’s Beerfest, the ninth-annual installment of the sudsy celebration sponsored by this columnist’s humble employer. It was a heavenly evening, with a broad smudge of high, wispy clouds pearlescent against a pastel sunset. A warm breeze blew off the New River, across the…
Gamers know him as the sword-wielding, anime ally of Nintendo hero Mega Man. But to local hip-hop heads, Protoman is one of South Florida’s new crop of talented underground rappers. Part of the close-knit Audio Thrift Shop posse, Proto slings intensely articulate rhymes over jazzy, old-schoolish boom-bap and forward-leaning distorted…
Just the other day, an old friend called me out of the blue and confessed his part in the fate of my UB40 “Can’t Help Falling in Love” cassette single that vanished during my junior year of high school. Of course, he didn’t call only for that — he wanted…
“Stick around too much and people won’t miss you,” Brendan O’Hara muses over drinks on Hollywood Beach, where the 24-year-old singer/songwriter/activist has settled down for close to two years. That’s after a case of wanderlust had taken him to cities on both coasts since he left New Jersey in 1998…
For record labels, videogames and music are a match made in target-audience heaven. EA Sports pushes major-label names in rock and hip-hop on the company’s yearly Madden and NBA updates, and Tony Hawk games sport underground punk and metal soundtracks. While those are somewhat appropriate, the latest music-in-games development comes…
Since 1973, the Pointer Sisters have been making waves in the pop world, surviving the twists and turns of stardom and longevity. Ruth, Anita, June, and Bonnie Pointer started singing gospel songs in their family home, having been warned off the devil’s music (i.e., rock ‘n’ roll and R&B) by…
Customarily, DJ nights consist of epileptic lighting schemes, overpriced vodka and Red Bull cocktails, and repetitious bass beats. But with the 1960s Dance Party, local collaborative Low-Fidelity brings another event to buck the system and redirect communal dancing back to its heyday. This nod to mod tributes 1960s England, when…
If you haven’t already gotten onboard with Roots Manuva, the original savior of U.K. hip-hop, now’s your best chance. Predating the Streets, Dizzee, and Merry Ol’s latest export, the foul-mouthed firecracker known as Lady Sovereign, Roots has been on a steady roll since last year’s Awfully Deep. That album, his…
On its debut disc, Dear Diary, My Teen Angst Has a Body Count, California’s From First to Last combined screamo energy with electronic noise, spazzy art-funk, and occasional lapses into acoustic balladry. The result was one of the few albums of post-hardcore shrieking still worth returning to three years later…
