The woods to the glory hole birch county birch county Pilot Records When the members of birch county–formerly Wonderland–worked on an album last year with a friend producing gratis, they weren’t exactly thrilled with the results and scrapped it. This five-song EP is proof that no work is ever really…
Area bassist John Adams knows that creation can be a difficult feat–after all, he’s been a free-lance jazz musician since college–but he still stepped into a double whammy: the worldwide debut of both his first album, Jump Shot, and his son, Andrew. Andrew is doing fine at 3 1/2 weeks,…
Here comes the misery Some people spend $100 an hour to sit on a plush couch and tell a stranger their problems in an effort to sort through life’s various tragedies and traumas. Andy Cairns, singer-guitarist of Ireland’s Therapy?, prefers standing in front of a microphone, guitar in hand, to…
Medicine Bag Bag of Fear Bag Lost Records Bag–unabashed fans of acid rock working in conjunction with mainstays of the local psychedelic garage-band scene like Burnin’ Rain’s Mike Pemberton–has come up with a late-’60s template that’s been scanned, morphed, and manipulated into the ’90s. Shimmering roller-rink keyboards, portentous vocals delivering…
The other side of the pond The Return of Rico Bell Rico Bell Bloodshot The Edge of the World Mekons Quarterstick Even if you didn’t know Rico Bell from Adam, you’d be inclined to give his Return a lot of points based on its heartfelt vibe alone. Bell–founding member of…
The 1980s were a decade of excess, a hedonistic period obsessed with the high life, both figuratively and literally. Musically it was a time of overindulgence as well, full of hyperproduced albums and splendid, over-the-top concerts. Probably no other band exemplifies this decade more than “the heavy metal Beach Boys,”…
It is Midsummer Eve in Finland. The chill air is ringing with the music of Bad Religion, and I am standing on a lovely hillside some 250 miles south of the Arctic Circle, surrounded by thousands of Finnish kids in alcoholic stupors. Today–eighteen years, six months, and seven days after…
With these hands Living here, it’s easy to get a bellyful of Austin, where the water tastes like wine. But there are advantages to living just a few hours from the Live Music Capital of the World, If Not the Galaxy; the semifrequent opportunity to see singer-songwriter Alejandro Escovedo is…
Music historian and general brainiac George Gimarc knows a good thing when he hears it; he also knows a very, very bad thing when he hears it. Gimarc and co-author Pat Reeder have collected some of the worst of the very, very bad in Hollywood Hi-Fi: Over 100 of the…
Pilgrim’s progress You Can Say That Again Johnny Rodriguez Hightone Records How Great Thou Art Willie Nelson (with Bobbie Nelson) Finer Arts Records If Johnny Rodriguez had released You Can Say That Again in 1976, he might not be having a comeback now. This collection of new clothes–comfortably hung over…
For Dallas Symphony music director Andrew Litton, a really good night at the Meyerson is a capacity crowd of 2,064. Imagine putting on your tux, going to work, and lifting your baton knowing that three-and-a-half billion pairs of eyes throughout the world are watching you–the biggest, most-watched TV event in…
Heart of the Congos The Congos Blood and Fire Given that most of what passes for rhythm and blues today has neither, the reissue of this 20-year-old reggae masterpiece by the sublime vocal duo the Congos is a reminder and a godsend. One of the most crucial reggae albums ever…
Head of the class Certain albums–and, if they’re lucky, certain bands–so skillfully present both influence and intent that they come to stand for an entire genre. The Wrens sum up (deep breath) American post-punk rock the same way in which XTC can serve as the Cliff Notes for turn-of-the-’80s Brit…
“Yo, we ain’t selling out. Fuck crossin’ over to them, let them cross over to us!” –N.W.A. Live intro, 1988 Rap music has gotten itself into a tough musical paradox: Soundtrack to inequity, the medium has always equated economic success with legitimacy. If you’ve got the stuff–the Versace, the gold,…
Many folks were disappointed when harpist and singer Lee McBee left Mike Morgan’s band, the Crawl, citing the distance between Dallas and his home in Kansas City. Bands that do the R&B-blues boogie often live or die based on their lead vocalist; the affable McBee could don the requisite personas–lover…
Junked and defunct Pawn Shop From Heaven Junky Southern Parallax A certain dulling of the critical faculties begins to occur in those who wander Local Band Hell overmuch: You stop holding out for quality and begin to settle for everybody starting and stopping at the same time, then for just…
It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, a perfect time to call record labels and publicity firms and leave messages, secure in the knowledge that the folks who work there haven’t even hit their first snooze button yet, and you’ll be able to fulfill a return-call obligation without talking to any…
Electric harvest Broken Arrow Neil Young and Crazy Horse Reprise There have been many different Neils in Young’s career: the icy jazzbo pretender of This Note’s For You and the earnest techno explorer of Trans; rockabilly reinvention vs. hard-rock revisionism and folkie perseverance; doper sociology played against cowboy myth and…
Shuffling toward the Pleistocene Slowly, ponderously, it lumbers onto the horizon, its massive head turning first this way, then that. Somehow, it realizes, something’s changed. Is it that the sun is no longer as warm–this winter just a bit longer than the one before? Or is it something else? A…
Mazinga Phaser is nothing if not ambitious. Exhausted from a day of intense mixing, producer Matt Castille and four of the six band members are slouching in the bedroom of Castille’s home studio. Although fatigued, they’re talking enthusiastically, riding that final rush that follows a job well done. Phrases like…
Jeff Aycock makes a pretty good case for predestination. Recalling his childhood in the far-South Dallas Bon Ton neighborhood, he remembers that “everyday, on my way home from school, I’d pass this pawn shop and see all these instruments in the window, and I’d imagine playing them.” Thirty years later,…
Women in jazz: Those words conjure up images of Ella Fitzgerald, Diane Schuur, and Sarah Vaughan–talented, but usually just standing at a microphone or sitting at a piano, not someone with legs astride, belting out licks on a bass trombone or beating the bejeezus out of a set of drums…
