Has it really rained this much? Like, all of June? Seriously? Cuz the shit is starting to put a very literal damper on the Dallas music situation. Who wants to pay five bucks to park, only to have to sprint two blocks through a wall of precipitation, soaking your jeans…
Boasting a deliciously sloppy, feedback-peppered oeuvre, Dallas’ the Sheena Militia has found that magical, unexplainable chemistry wherein the familiar becomes new again. Exene Cervenka-esque vocals lurk deep in the mix as fetching guitarwork kicks post-Joan Jett ass. There’s a tinge of riot grrl sensibility sneaking through the power chord-based songs…
Not sure what the deal is with the Dallas Christian bands’ tradition of insisting on reverb-drenched guitar that echoes—literally—the Edge, circa 1988. It’s fine most of the time, if derivative (what isn’t these days), and when well-executed can actually be quite enjoyable, as Dallas’ Strike Four demonstrates. But the real…
Spune me: Don’t shoot your wad at the ACL Fest this September, as Spune Productions Wall of Sound Festival is slated for the weekend after (Saturday, September 22, to be exact). In their ever-teasing ways, the Spune-ites are revealing the lineup in a series of announcements rather than all at…
The Granada Theater, Saturday, June 23: Gusts of air conditioning bat around bouquets of red, white and blue balloons, grouped in threes and fours. Many have been set free and bob lackadaisically around the ceiling. A swollen sold-out crowd melds into one entity, but occasionally a single individual peels away:…
Who knew someone who claims to not understand sex, and who yet was put on trial for allegedly touching young ladies on their naughties, could be such a hoot?! Somehow Paula Poundstone has transcended her oddities and resurrected her career. In fact, she has twisted said oddities into positives, utilizing…
Who knew someone who claims to not understand sex, and who yet was put on trial for allegedly touching young ladies on their naughties, could be such a hoot?! Somehow Paula Poundstone has transcended her oddities and resurrected her career. In fact, she has twisted said oddities into positives, utilizing…
We begin our night at House of Blues. The foxy members of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club laze about the stage, all tight jeans and shabby shirts. They look as if they should be onstage at CBGB. Well, sort of—something’s off. Something’s off because they appear sober and lucid, their pants…
In this day of trauma rock a la Tori “I Just Can’t Get Over It” Amos, it’s damned refreshing to enjoy a female songwriter who doesn’t need to revel in darkness in order to connect. Joan Armatrading’s been around since the mid-’70s (she wrote “Love and Affection” back then), and…
Let’s face it, if this year’s yawner of an NBA Finals series is proof of anything, it’s that we don’t watch basketball for defense. We don’t watch it for ball movement or free throws. The only time we cast a lazy eye toward the TV during this snooze-a-thon was when…
Merle Haggard, Loretta Lynn and George Jones: Which of the three is the coolest of the cool? We decided to answer that question once and for all, according to four criteria: Podunk Cred, Outlaw Life, Songwritin’ and Wack Factor. Merle Haggard Podunk Cred: Born in California, which is a strike…
Tone-y, Tone-y, Tone-y: Dallas trio Rawly Punt just released Fleshtone, a collection of lysergic roots rock tunes along the lines of their first release, Anthems. Highlight of the disc, which was recorded in town at Miles of Sound: the group’s version of the Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer,” featuring Annette Conlon’s…
Summer school, bitches! That’s right, it’s time for the poolside edition of our challenge to your music knowledge and general test-taking abilities. Choose the correct answer from the multiple choices; sharpen your pencils, and don’t cheat, slackers. 1) Math question: If you throw down a couple hundred bucks for a…
If ever there were a win-win, it’s this: You grab one or more packages of dried pasta, you bring it down to Ferré, the nouveau Italian joint in the West Village (3699 McKinney Ave., to be exact,) and you hand it over. The Ferré folks will send it along to…
It’s a throwdown of cosmic proportions, as shocking and powerful as the Rumble in the Jungle, as loaded with metaphor and subtext as Louis v. Schmeling, and as close as this generation will get to a mythic battle between good and evil. It is, of course, the Def Comedy Jam…
It’s Midland, not Midlake: Dallas’ last best hope for a new breakout band is, arguably, Coachella veterans and nouveau hard rockers Fair to Midland, who release their new disc Fables from a Mayfly on June 12. The release party takes place that same night at the Curtain Club. Fables is…
Three shows, one week: Morrissey at the Palladium Man, except for the slight paunch, he really hasn’t changed. In fact, the paunch proves it: Morrissey wouldn’t be Morrissey if he were perched atop a Stairmaster. He zips professionally, if also in a somewhat detached manner, through a set of oldies…
What exactly is the motivation to take a sport like football and alter its rules, change some of its logistics around—like the size of the end zone, for instance—and try to liven up the equipment, like using a design-oriented football that’s the modern equivalent of the ABA’s red, white and…
While it might sound like a real go-getter’s guide to the art of self-love, the book Do You! is actually a how-to for something much more valuable: how to, paraphrasing the press materials from Barnes & Noble, realize your dreams and achieve personal success. That may sound pretty dang geeky…
Freaks and geeks know the epicenter of their Little D kingdom is located on Hickory Street: For a year now, Secret Headquarters has housed the weird, the loud and the good when it comes to musical excursions and experiments. And, in the process, proprietors/local rock gods Scott Porter (Record Hop),…
As the Police reunion tour motorcade slowly makes its way toward North Texas, seemingly lead not by a tour bus but by a giant bulldozer unapologetically scooping up millions of dollars, rock reunions and nostalgia concerts grow as ever more unavoidable precepts of music fandom. Everyone has gone all buck…
What is this, like the 80th time Albert Hammond Jr. has come to perform in Dallas? Do we really need this? Is the Strokes’ guitarist—as famous for his shaggy mane and his shagging of Drew Barrymore* as for his fake Television guitar licks—really all that great without his fellow girl-jeans-clad…
