July’s always been a shitty month for music. All the good mainstream stuff comes out at the beginning of the summer and all the good indie stuff waits until the college kids come back in the fall. Or maybe I just had a shitty month? I don’t know. All albums scored on the World […]
By Scott Creney So when you first join up there’s all these goddamned floating circles and you’re supposed to pick your favorite genre of music from a bunch of categories that are so broad & vague as to be meaningless: alternative, electronic, pop, rock, oldies, etc. But you can’t see all the bubbles at once […]
I’m not Neil Young. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that when I sing I don’t sound like a cranky Kermit the Frog. Also, I can’t fucking play electric guitar or manipulate feedback to save a noisy miner. But whatever. If I was Neil Young – and I so […]
Withered Hand excels where Beck flops simply by being himself - which, let's face it, is a difficult thing to be in a studio sometimes.
Phew. So lots and lots has happened between here and Xiu Xiu (th-thump, th-thump), and my private ledger of reviews to write has been swelling as subtly as my belly while I attended to other crucial real-life affairs. And meanwhile the parade of faces and sounds marches on and on – Perfect Pussy, in particular, […]
Damn it, Beck. It’s not that I – or anyone else at Collapse Board, for that matter – hate successful white guys with guitars. We’re just hard-pressed to find one that doesn’t bore us to tears or drive us nuts with their banal male sexuality. Nor is it true that there’s no place for sentimental […]
This appears to be the opposite of crazy. It’s mundane. Why would somebody describe their encounters with normal everyday situations and then call themselves crazy? Why indeed. They’d have to be delusional.
You gotta respect any artist who so clearly doesn’t give a fuck.
I love it when a band make it look this easy.
Nice drumming. Nice backing vox.