Monday, January 15 2007
Calvin Trillin's loving tribute to his wife showcases the best of the woman he so often included in his essays.
Ricky Jay Plays Poker contains a few noteworthy revelations; first and foremost, there are more songs about poker than you may imagine.
Sunday, January 14 2007
Debut EP from Finnish Interpol imitators is, at least, a darn good imitation.
Satanic Twins was meant for the club, and as a collection of club tunes, it does just fine.
This album is good enough to make you forget about Chan whatshername.
Imagination exercise: picture John Mellencamp with a wee bit more country and a lot less distinctiveness. That fuzzy haze that emerges is probably Mark
A young woman discovers shocking truths about her missing mother -- and herself -- in Vendela Vida's second novel.
Thursday, January 11 2007
“You need a bum,” sings Tomoaki Kamijo. “I need a cum.” His pronunciation isn’t perfect, but Martha, his first album, released in 1971 and sung
Those looking for a groundbreaking album should look elsewhere, but anyone who wants tight flows, solid production, and catchy hooks need look no farther than Raptillion.
Just admit it, kids, emo is the new hair metal.
Rolling Stone columnist explores the death of his wife and the life of pop music with pathos, humor books.
Eric Church sings the first four lines of the first song as if he’s been embodied by Toby Keith, talking about the Middle East,
Wednesday, January 10 2007
This mighty fine album of peppy, punky, poppy, post-riot grrrl indie rock will get your body bopping and fill you full of glee.
“Trip hop” just isn’t a hip thing to call music any more—so Quango has tried on the more earthy, historical “dub” for this
As the pianos and keyboards saturating its cover art suggests, Love Is the Best Con in Town, Grand Mal’s fourth LP, is less “rock”
Concord's literary lions, fueled by sexual tension?
Listeners who invest in Open Book can look forward to spending hours tracing the evolution of a unique artist and enjoying high quality independent music.
Tuesday, January 9 2007
Furrowed Brow is as English—and as unsettling—as the ghost stories of M. R. James or the original Wicker Man movie. Coming from the
“The dregs of the city, the law of the earth,” reads the Latin title, quoting Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, an indication of just how
Hey, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. It’s not Mr. Doom and Gloom from the Tomb, it’s some other