Monday, October 22 2001
Mogwai’s new EP, My Father My King, is, in a word, artless. It is inscrutable from every angle: melodically dull and repetitive, rhythmically plodding,
Reba McEntire’s third volume of Greatest Hits is just what her fans have come to expect. That there are three such collections in McEntire’
Four months after its CD release in 2001, the story of The Langley Schools Music Project is now the stuff of indie legend, something so seemingly
Anita Lane: The female Leonard Cohen. Who knew? While Cohen’s writing has always been revered, his song styling and vocal timbre require a very
I was only eight years old when John Lennon was killed. At the time, I had an idea of who he was, but wasn’t
The word “International” is in parentheses, so the implication is that we should treat it as an aside or a qualifier of some sort, as
While the perception most non-jazz savvy people have of Dizzy Gillespie exists primarily in the realm of caricature, those who are aware of his work
Retro jangle rock sounds abound, and The Grip Weeds lay claim to their own fair share of 1960s musical memories, though not necessarily the same
It’s not perfect, but it’s intriguing, and it gives listeners enough of a taste of Elk City that they will want more.
Berlin’s Einstürzende Neubauten—that’s “Collapsing New Buildings” to the uninitiated—are in many ways an embodiment of a certain stereotype about German art rock.
The set highlights many important elements to Davis's evolving sound: his quest to strip songs down to their essential parts, his shift from acoustic to electric-based music, his choice of sidemen who best play that type of music, and, in turn, his way of coaxing the best music from those sidemen.
DMX was hip-hop’s newest miscreant in 1998, snarling into an arena that has since lent itself to bling-bling blathering and bad hooks. He was a
Contrary to what the title of his latest release would lead listeners to believe, Harry Connick Jr. is actually 34 years old. Denoting the artist’s
Synths. I love ‘em, as any six months worth of my reviews should prove, especially under the fingers of an Alan Wilder, a Joe Jackson—
The record company hyperbole enthusiastically heralds The Cranberries’ fifth album, Wake Up and Smell the Coffee, as a return to the phenomenally successful Irish band’
Cuban music has become rather omnipresent these days, and it’s tempting to write off any norteamericano who travels down there and starts messing around.
Though Anita Baker first emerged as lead vocalist of Chapter 8 in 1979 and her debut solo recording The Songstress was released in 1983, it was not until 1986
Thistupidream is an album teetering on perfection. Its ten tracks threaten to transform themselves into a musical epic at nearly every turn thanks to the
Golden State, the new release from alternative-rock mainstay Bush, is finally here, but is it any good? Bush continues on the road that began with
The Beanweevils is without a doubt the most repugnant release of the year. Period. I hasten to even write a full-length review for this group