Music

With the stoned cadence of Sublime, a self-deprecating sense of humor like the Pharcyde and that old-school hip-hop fun-time attitude, a band like Gym Class Heroes breaking out was inevitable. It’s amazing there isn’t one on every American college campus. But few would be savvy enough to hijack the chorus…

At 72, nobody still fucks with the Killer. On his recent effort, Last Man Standing, Jerry Lee Lewis goes toe to toe with, among others, Jagger, Richards, Springsteen, Fogerty, Robbie Robertson and Neil Young and comes out as undeniably brilliant and pissed off as ever. The new disc is a…

Recent benefit shows in Dallas have managed to draw larger crowds and better lineups than for-profit indie-rock showcases and festivals, which bodes well for Sunday’s NAMBLA fund-raiser. Skeezy Productions promoter Pete O. File, who is spearheading the benefit, knew almost nothing about the bands playing. But he had plenty of…

Mike Patton has said that Peeping Tom and its self-titled debut is his version of modern pop music. Fine. But pop as we know it and Patton have very little to do with one another so you’d be remiss to expect a KISS-FM makeover on the former Faith No More…

There is a woman on a makeshift, multicolored stage in a large backyard full of slightly scuzzy people. Scuzzy in the sense that they probably only take showers every other day, versus every day. Not hippie scuzzy, just sort of… San Francisco scuzzy. Not that anyone is paying attention to…

You could hear it all along 6th Street, Red River and South Congress: the dull roar of a couple thousand bands; bass and drums cranked to the max by sound guys who didn’t care anymore; block-long lines to see some British buzz band no one will remember in three years;…

“The first hip-hop record I owned was The Message by Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five,” recalls DJ Rob Viktum. “My father bought it for me.” When that record first dropped, back when Viktum was but a wee lad, it was mostly the inner-city kids who were having The Message…

This week’s contestants still believe that rock ‘n’ roll lives forever, but it might not always pay its own way. (Friggin’ freeloader.) Whether for amusement or pocket change, avocation or insurance, more than 20 years into their respective music careers, Rickie Lee Jones now owns a horse farm, Silos frontman…

Denton’s insular music community is getting love from the wider world lately, as Robert Gomez joins Lift to Experience, jetscreamer, Mandarin and those stonecutter guys on U.K. label Bella Union. The only thing they have in common is what distinguishes them from most Dallas buzz bands: None can be described…

At 56, Graham Parker has lost little of the caustic bile that informed so much of his best work of the mid- to late ’70s. Always mislabeled as “angry,” Parker’s songs can better be described as surly and intellectual. A potent songwriter with an eye for hypocrisy and mistaken vanity,…

Mary J, Joss Stone, Alicia Keys take note: All Amy Winehouse did was hire a live band, have Mark Ronson put a retro, ’60s girl group/Motown spin on the sound and produce an album that’s remarkably fresh. Nothing is really new, but because contemporary R&B has been so slickly packaged,…

Girls are different from boys, example No. 926: all-gal rappers Northern State vs. old-school fools the Beastie Boys. Both groups come from New York (although the State hails from the mall-ridden sprawl of Long Island, while the Boys are from the mean-ish streets of Brooklyn), both have three very white…

Southern Culture on the Skids A little more than 10 years ago, I actually proposed to my girlfriend at a Southern Culture on the Skids New Year’s Eve show in New Jersey. Why not, I figured—there was the onstage limbo contest, the fried chicken the band threw into the crowd,…

There’s a reason why radio stations still play classic rock, why Led Zep riffs still send fists pumping through the air, why a chunky 4/4 bass drum beat still resonates through the chest like no other: The shit is good. Sure, you make fun of mullet meatheads and music from…

The VIP card is a delicate and dangerous thing. Obtained via one’s prestige, wealth (parental or personal) and ability to shamelessly schmooze, it can open doors to many exclusive experiences. But recent evidence suggests overuse can result in mental breakdowns involving panty-forgetting and head-shaving. Rehab, ahoy! But I am no…

With the passing of Jerry Garcia, not only did the Grateful Dead (thankfully and belatedly) end as a functioning unit, but also hordes of imitators wasted little time in vying for the mantle of chief jam band, top purveyors of nonstop guitar noodling contained in epic songs with absolutely nothing…