The Suicide Machines have discovered an ingenious way to branch into pure pop and alt-rock without alienating the fanbase that adores the band’s early hardcore and ska efforts. The Detroit outfit funnels its artistic experimentation into its recent albums, hit-and-miss efforts that play like various-artists compilations, and goes back to basics during its blistering live sets, which consist almost entirely…
The cult of the virtuoso is alive and well even as pop music fills arenas and classical music fills the discount bins. Back in the day, it was folks like Italian violinist Nicolo Paganini who sold out concerts, wowed audiences and got more 19th-century tail than you could shake a bow at. But whereas cellist Yo-Yo Ma has avoided the…
Wilco just makes sense. At any dose or decibel, driving down an empty highway or sitting alone, it works. With synthesizers and computers, feedback and distortions, aching piano tracks and country twangs, Wilco will make you re-evaluate what you think about alt-country. Since Uncle Tupelo disbanded, Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy has continued to produce music that leaves people desperate for…
Pinback is the brainchild of Armistead Burwell Smith IV and Rob Crow, two West Coasters with thick indie-rock résumés who formed the band as a sonic side dish in 1998. Six years later, the group sounds like the main course. Reminiscent of the Shins and Death Cab for Cutie, Pinback serves up winning pop on a feather bed of…
There’s folky, and then there’s Martin Sexton, who, unlike most solo, acoustic-playing honkies, isn’t hamstrung by notions of ascetic purity. Sure, he’s plenty sensitive, but Sexton knows that guy + guitar = rock show. And he brings energy, a drummer and enough bass-plucking to get bodies moving. He also knows that rock can be a mess, so he works…
Crank up the Waybac machine, Sherman, ’cause Mr. Peabody needs to take another long, strange trip to catch the Dead back when they were still Grateful. Maybe we should trip the light fantastic at one of Ken Kesey’s Acid Tests. Or how about Barton Hall in 1977? Better yet, let’s catch that dank Veneta, Oregon, show from August 1972. I…
When emo-punk quintet At the Drive-In disintegrated in 2001, it joined that coterie of on-the-verge acts that splintered before they peaked, only to re-emerge emboldened in different company, under new management and with a new name. At the Drive-In’s rhythm section begat Sparta, and vocalist Cedric Zavala and guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez struck out on their own as the Mars Volta,…
For legions of angry young screamers, being fuckin’ pissed is what it’s all about. But what, pray tell, is everybody so pissed about? Did Max Factor discontinue their favorite eyeliner? Did their personal assistants wash their whites with their colors? Was last night’s episode of Judging Amy a rerun? Come on, ladies, pull yourselves together. There are plenty of real…
PD: How’s your free day going? AO: Not bad. Today we’re doing press, and tomorrow we’re playing Conan O’Brien. You just got back from Japan. Any Lost in Translation moments? No, but I did meet Dan Aykroyd last night. I guess his daughter’s a Distillers fan. I was like, “Hey! Danny Aykroyd! Doctor Detroit!” It was cool. Are you overwhelmed…
John Bersuch needs a cigarette. He went cold turkey two days ago, and getting over Joe Camel’s hump seems to be causing some internal tremors as he sits in a loft in the crumbling West Bottoms, discussing how his Dandercroft magazine got its name. “I used to date this girl leprechaun, and one day this alien jumped out of her…
Mark my words: In the next few months, the synth-perforated gospel of the Killers will be buzzing from the lips of every hipster, radio DJ and avid watcher of The O.C in America. But it won’t be because the Las Vegas quartet is living up to its ferocious moniker. In fact, it’s something of a misnomer. It just happens that…
Few recent albums have caused my soul more distress than the Sleepy Jackson’s Lovers. Not that it’s a bad album — on the contrary, it’s pretty good. Rather, it’s the questions it raises. What sort of band is this, exactly? Is this grab-bag musical approach a good idea? Furthermore, what of the mad genius of rock? After all, Sleepy Jackson…
Intermission, the 2003 debut feature by Irish director John Crowley, unfortunately is filmed in a process we’ll call HeadacheVision. The camera operator and zoom puller are clearly both epileptics, and apart from when this twitchy movie takes a brief breather in a steady master shot, the whole thing feels like ’90s television, a queasy aesthetic so annoying you may be…
The six-month intermission is over. Those of you left in the lobby, wondering if Uma Thurman ever did kill Bill, may now return to your seats, unbuckle your belts and resume your gorging. Rest assured that Kill Bill, Vol. 2, the second half of Quentin Tarantino’s fifth movie, offers just what you expect. It’s a continuation bereft of real…
Was that varsity or JV?: In response to the DDR letters to the editor (April 1), and with apologies to Jeff Foxworthy: You might be a dork if you have a high school letter in shop and feel compelled to mention it in a letter to the editor. Name Withheld Upon Request Bull Run Animal kingdom: Reading Kendrick Blackwood’s “Bear…
Brian Cooper was a sort of nerd’s version of the badass who would only enter a drag race if you agreed to put up the pink slip to your car. But instead of racing hot rods, Cooper’s game involved the decidedly geeky pursuit of collectible card games. You know the deal: Younger, date-challenged guys at coffee shops, pulling colorful…
The scene was so hideous, so wrong, that my only consolation was a hope that no one would see it. I had been wandering the deserted, labyrinthine hallways on the third floor at Union Station when I noticed an eerie green glow in an alcove up ahead. Disturbed and intrigued at the same time, I approached it, only to…
Prohibition may still be alive and well in Stilwell, Kansas. Since last fall, Brian Foreman has been lobbying the Johnson County Board of Commissioners to grant him a liquor license to sell more than 3.2 beer at his convenience store and gas station at 199th Street and Metcalf. But in late October, the commissioners unanimously denied Foreman’s license, calling…
“Throw your middle fingers in the air!” shouts the DJ as he drops the needle on the Youngbloodz’s anti-social anthem “Damn!” Dancers rush to the floor after hearing the initial tremors of the song’s deep, rib-cracking bass, spacing themselves for maximum maneuverability. The room resonates during the chorus: If you don’t give a damn/ We don’t give a fuck ……
Here’s a news flash: The Night Ranger went to a club and actually liked it. Well, club might be a stretch, but when we heard that the Brooksider Bar & Grill drew a weekend crowd that was “shady,” we had to check it out. Upon entering, though, it was apparent that the revelers that night were more on the young,…
By the end of the winter, Bassam Helwani and chef Marwan Chebaro, co-owners of one-year-old Café Rumi (3903 Wyoming), had an epiphany. They figured out that there are diners who actually prefer to eat inside — even when the weather gets warm — but not in a tiny dining nook with all the charm of a prison cell. Rumi was…
To understand recent changes at the Canyon Café on the Country Club Plaza, you have to start with Ernest Hemingway. That’s right, the burly and virile author who lived and worked in Kansas City in 1917 and has a condominium building named for him on Ward Parkway. (He wrote part of For Whom The Bell Tolls while sitting at a…
THU 4/8 History repeats itself, and Alacartoona, a modern cabaret act, is proof. “Post-wartime, people begin to question social mores and cultural norms, and that reaction manifests itself through art and music,” explains lead singer Ruby Falls. “That’s what we seek to do … test the limits and find out what’s making you uncomfortable, what’s making you think, when you’re…
SAT 4/10 For people who are into strong, silent types, what could be more sexy than a robot? Robots are literally men of steel. OK, maybe it’s actually some other kind of metal; we didn’t major in engineering. The robot’s sleek, impenetrable exterior is what excites Meredith Vacek, who, in addition to claiming to be engaged to a robot, coordinates…
