It's been awhile since we've gone to a show knowing next to nothing of a band's music and walking out feeling like we might've just seen something important. On the basis of a couple of tunes and some Internet chatter, we went to T.T.'s last night to see Norway's Serena Maneesh and holy cow. Noisy and loud as fuck, the band – a five-piece led by a guitar-playing maniac manchild of a frontman – tore through what seemed like a 25-minute set that turned out to be closer to an hour.
Today at National Review Online, W. James Antle III says Mitt Romney's presidential dreams will take a major hit
if Kerry Healey can't ride his coattails into office. Not sure I'm
completely convinced, but it's an interesting argument to ponder.
Partly a shameless "House of Jealous Lovers" ripoff, and partly a genius extension of dance-punk's 15 minutes of fame, "Pouncer" is not your average DFA cloning experiment gone awry. Sure, all the basics are there -- the hi-hat-kissed snare beat, the gangrene-guitar stabs, the falsetto-ing dude who sounds like he's feeling up the third rail.
Courtesy of my perspicacious Phoenix colleague David Bernstein:
"State Rep. Reed V. Hillman, R-Sturbridge, said that a Swift
representative approached him about running [as her lieutenant
governor], but he turned it down. 'I'm just not interested; I don't
know how else to put it,' he said."
Felicity Huffman in Transamerica? Nope, it's the faux-Nico from Serena Maneesh.
Ah, the digital age of hyper-hype. It’s becoming a familiar story: Pitchfork gives the import-only version of your first full-length a glowing review, overzealous bloggers give you the requisite stroke jobbing, and before you even have a record out in the US, there’s a backlash a-brewin’.
This Wednesday, the eighth of March, marks the beginning of a Phoenix experiment: "live-blogging" Boston city-council meetings. (It's not really live-blogging, because City Hall doesn't have wireless access.) Perhaps this experiment will help us figure out whether or not the councilors deserve the stunning 16 percent pay raise that they're about to approve for themselves
Will Big Love, the new HBO show about a polygamous Mormon family, hurt Mitt Romney's presidential chances?
That's a question posed in this Guardian column, which is well worth reading. (BTW, if it wasn't for Bob at Blue Mass Group, I wouldn't even have known the Guardian piece existed. Bob, you've done us all a service.
It's official as of yesterday afternoon: Boston mayor Tom Menino has signed off* on a proposal to hike City Hall salaries.
Menino's salary would jump from $150,000 to $175,000. (That'll do wonders for the pension!) City councilors, who currently make $75,000 annually, would pull in $87,500. The compensation range for other key jobs would also be shifted upward, with Class 1 employees--corporation counsel, police chief, CFO, etc.
The recently reunited Smoking Popes absolutely, uh, smoked last night downstairs at the Middle East at their first show in town in “like eight years,” according to frontman Josh Caterer. As one of the best and most under-appreciated power pop bands of the ’90s, Caterer, his brothers — guitarist Eli and bassist Matt — and drummer Mike Felumlee deftly married big power chords and big hooks with Josh’s distinctive Kermit-the-Frog-meets-Morrissey croon.
Quick get-yr-free-stuff programming note: this Sunday, March 12, former Belle & Sebastian sweetie, Stuart Murdoch heartbreaker, Gentle Waves gentilly, and Mark Lanegan collaborator Isobel Campbell will be at the Museum of Fine Arts; Thee-who-will-never-escape-the-ex-Galaxie-500-ID a/k/a Damon & Naomi will open.
And what's with the tepid reaction from UMass? A statement from Frederick Sperounis, UMass-Lowell's executive vice chancellor, makes it sound like ostensibly netural pollsters on the state payroll moonlight as political consultants all the time.
1. Sunburned Hand of the Man, Black Helicopter, and Magik Markers signed to Universal Records? Well, sort of:
Ecstatic Peace signs deal with Universal records ECSTATIC PEACE, the independent record label founded by Sonic Youth's THURSTON MOORE in 1981 has, as of February 2006, signed a distribution deal with UNIVERSAL RECORDS.
OTD is heading south for the week -- and no, we're not going where everyone else is going. We're off for some R&R and even a little M&M, because as we've said before, OTD is for the children. Don't sleep, though, because Cami and a cadre of Phoenix guest bloggers are gonna keep you up to your eyeballs in exclusives until we return.
Anyone who's ever cadged a photo pass knows the rules of taking pictures from the designated photographer's pit in front of the stage: (1) you get to shoot only the first three songs, and (2) no flash allowed. Then the bouncers hustle you back out with the masses, the idea being to limit the amount of time any one band can make asses of
"Mihos was the last gubernatorial candidate to speak. After giving
his wife, Andrea, a peck on the check, he strode to the microphone and
promised to be brief by saying, 'My wife says I'm awful fast, so I'll
try to stick to that.
Lawyers, architects, administrators, and family men by day, *AM Stereo pull the ol’ Bruce Banner at night and transform into a drunken, rockin’ Hulk of a band. Once labeled by a friend as “disaster rock,” the band’s sound is a testament to the members’ long-running love affair with the loose, jangly, post-punk, pre-alternative college-radio rock of the 1980s and early ’90s.
Our favorite Phoenix coverboy, Mr. Clay N. Ferno, finally has a full-length recording with his long-awaited New-Alliance-preened supergroup, Wild Zero. We're worried that too many introductory words might ruin the sheer rock-and-roll resplenditude of his band's following 'sclusive track, but bathroom-themed mixtape-makers beware: this is a sleaze-rawk song about trying to get sexy chicks clean.