Crunching and pulsing with some sort of covert messages from a cold, dead star, The Secret Machines are back. What they wrought forth on their 2000 debut EP, September 000, would give anyone a difficult reputation to outshine. The band, once prone to extended psychedelic jams—the best you could
With today’s final taping of Friends, fans across the country wonder what’s in store for TV’s six pals. Will Rachel and Ross finally find romance? Will Joey’s career take off? Our writer is ready with spoilers for the final episode in May.
What better way to spend a long winter weekend inside, terrified to leave your home because your snow boots still haven’t arrived in the mail and your front sidewalk is awash in an ice floe, than to watch cable TV? I never found out, that’s for sure. But
Though not an official release, last September’s shows in London were so spectacular that they deserve to be. Until these tracks are tacked onto a box set or some-such, we’ll just have to make do with what we have. One-time Britpoppers and glam-rock revivalists, and
The debut LP from this Chicago quintet reveals a band with more than a fair share of ability tucked under its wing. And all over Most Every Night they use it to maximum effect, inspired in their hooks, devastating in their compact, intense syncopation. Rock riffs abound in the vein
One could be forgiven for missing out on Dear Catastrophe Waitress. After all, it seemed Belle and Sebastian’s star had set for good; their last formal effort (disregarding the 2002 soundtrack for Storytelling) was 2000’s Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, the main drawback of
Of all the great gifts I received over the holidays, many of the best didn’t arrive wrapped in colorful paper, or inside cards with weird Christmas-y sexual innuendo (‘Mrs. Claus wants to know if you’re ready for your holiday surprise…’). And though I still haven’t even
The iPod got a lot of use this year. After hundreds of albums and thousands of hours of listening to music, Andrew Womack narrows it all down to his top 10 albums of 2003. Here are his findings.
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we welcome the beginning of winter with helpful advice for those who want their snowmen to survive into spring.
Rob Collins, 1963–1996. That’s what this album meant to a lot of people. That organ sound, it’s what made The Charlatans at the beginning. It’s the sounds that defined them. That organ. And the death of organist Rob Collins signaled what for the band? They’d
