Thursday, April 18 2002
It's 1992, and a relatively unknown Martina McBride has gone from selling T-shirts to opening for the very well known Garth Brooks. For part of her road band, McBride chooses a good-looking Texan who's been in Nashville for about six months.
A surpassingly rich and urgent movie about the way we live now.
It's not as though 'The Survivors' takes its survivalists seriously.
Nine Queens' class analysis is acute, and narrowly focused on defining the characters.
'Murder by Numbers' isn't about solving the case; it's about solving Cassie (Sandra Bullock).
The Last Waltz still spirits a tingle up the spine.
Wednesday, April 17 2002
How’s this for an idea? Take some of the best-known tunes from the Swing Era (nearly all taken from Gershwin, Ellington, or Glen Miller)
I gave this album an unusually biased first listen after having bought Marc Bianchi’s first LP, Home is Where You Hang Yourself, listened to
Fu Manchu have perfected the art of irreverent rock over the course of their five-album discography. Consecutive albums crammed with cranking riffs, odd lyrical themes
How to become a corporate rock star, in six easy steps: Think of a name that will stick in people’s heads, no matter how
Badly Drawn Boy’s Mercury Prize-winning album The Hour of Bewilderbeast, despite its many merits, was very nearly derailed by the pretensions of the Erratically
If there’s any reason at all to have music critics or journalists or radio stations, then that reason is (or certainly should be) to
Let’s face it: after the multi-platinum success of his self-titled 1999 English-language breakthrough, Nuyorican crooner Marc Anthony has little to prove. Everyone knows the guy
For start, this gig was meant to be at the cozy sweatbox of the Camden Monarch nearly a month ago. People who had heard the
What happened to swagger? Though I’ve grown to expect more complexity and emotional honesty out of rock stars, rock ‘n’ roll is one more
I had a dream about St. Ann’s Warehouse—it picks up just at the end of the April 6 Joe Strummer gig (the final night
S E T L I S T Crow HollerCircle SongWhere Did My Legs Go?Ode to Billy JoeLookout Mountain GalPlowmanElvis Sings to JesusConjuremanLos
Reclusive Eels Frontman Finally Leaves House, Brings Guitars With Him It’s doubtful that Mark Everett had any idea what the song “Fittin’ in with
In 39 minutes, the world is going to end. We are all waiting for that end to begin. There’s a sickness in the air, like
The guy in the yellow shirt (“Reconstruction Continues . . .,” his shoulder blades informed) didn’t seem to notice how close the crowd was packed, how smoky