With a Little Help from His Friends
It is in times of crisis that a person learns who his or her true friends are. Alejandro Escovedo discovered he has a lot of friends.
It is in times of crisis that a person learns who his or her true friends are. Alejandro Escovedo discovered he has a lot of friends.
Mark Stuart has only himself to blame. The name was his idea – even if he didn’t mean it to stick – and the stories associated with it are good ones. But Stuart is considering hanging up Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash as a band name when he moves to Austin, Texas, from San Diego next year.
So we’ve dealt with opening shots and isolated shots, and now the House Next Door asks a different but related question:
“What single movie image or moment do you think of more often than any other?” My answer comes from my iPod.
This is how closely I’ve been paying attention to the world: Sleater-Kinney, one of my favorite bands, announced in June that it was going on “indefinite hiatus,” and I finally figure it out in August.
Rolling Stone’s “Rock and Roll Daily” has started a series on double albums that can be (and should have been) pared down to single discs. And not just one 80-minute CD; the idea is to hack the bloated monster down to an LP.
Modesty is a rare commodity in the world of rock and roll, but Delbert McClinton thinks it’s an essential element of writing a good song. “Being a songwriter, you have to know humility, and embrace it,” he said in a recent interview. “In songwriting, there’s what we around here call good stupid and bad stupid.”
In Slate.com, Hua Hsu concisely articulates my boredom with Sonic Youth’s highly regarded (and moronically titled) new record, Rather Ripped.
It’s not quite miraculous that The M’s are touring in support of a new record, but given the group’s origins, it’s a surprise that the band is making public appearances at all.
With the release of a new album, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, out this week, it’s time to catch up with Culture Snob favorite Neko Case.
The story of Stanley Dural Jr. is the story of a kid who hated his father’s music. The rich irony is that the kid who hated the accordion and zydeco would become the planet’s best-known zydeco performer. His nickname is “Buckwheat,” and the world knows him as Buckwheat Zydeco – a multiple Grammy nominee and the first zydeco artist ever signed to a major label.