A classic Freudian father-hater, I came to the show with the possible intention of shaming John Lydon. I had jokes ready. I was prepared to say he looked like a Killer Klown from Outer Space—and you know what? With his stripey socks and orange suspenders that glowed under the black light, and his tuft of Tintin hair perched on top of his middle-aged head as he read old lyrics off a music stand, he really did. But even in his Sex Pistols days, when he aped Richard III, he’s never been the type to care whether people thought he was a buffoon. The only thing that scares him, it seems, is whether people like the music he’s making.

The show played like a dance club funeral procession celebrating the life of a macabre poet that met an untimely death.

Fidlar are a phenomenon reeking of teen spirit, particularly the puke after one first night of hard liquor drinking in 10th grade. Their sound is rough around the edges, but cut up and decidedly clear enough to be effective in delivering an anthemic slacker slogan within each song. On their standouts like ‘No Waves’ the [...]

all photos by olivia jaffe “We’re going to do something old and nasty, because we are old and nasty!” Scott “Wino” Weinrich, the singer of Saint Vitus, is riling us up good from the big stage at the Bootleg, and he’s not exactly exaggerating: to his right, founding member Dave Chandler looks every bit the [...]

After seeing Corb Lund play the Mint last Thursday night, only one word came to mind when trying to write this review. Dimples. If I could copy and past the word “dimples” repeatedly until it filled the screen, I would. I mean … I can, but I won’t. Corb Lund is part of the hot dude clique in the current Americana scene, one that includes Hayes Carll, Justin Townes Earle, Ryan Bingham, and other handsome 20 and 30-somethings. Looks aside, Alberta-based Corb Lund’s recent show at the Mint proved that the man has the talent to back it up, making him less of a mimbo and a true musical powerhouse.

Le sigh. Another spectacular year of the annual Austin City Limits Music Festival has come and gone. After last year’s event – the 10th anniversary – I distinctly remember saying that it was probably the best edition yet. Ends up I lied … sort of. Allow me to briefly summarize the greatness of Sunday: Iggy [...]

A little more than midway through the second day (Saturday) of Austin City Limits, the unthinkable happened. Rufus Wainwright played the main stage. Just kidding! The flamboyant singer-songwriter’s unique croon held up quite well on the monolithic platform. And he’s actually pretty funny without trying to be. Here’s the real story: just as Band of [...]

This was the perfect place to host Sound Dimension, the band behind the scenes at the legendary Studio One in Kingston, Jamaica—and responsible for some of the best ska, reggae, and rocksteady to come out of Jamaica. Original members came together for this once in a lifetime reunion to play Studio One classics like ‘Confucius’ and ‘Rockford Rock,’ just to name a few.

“Here are some keys! We got at least two people involved… the guy who lost his keys and the guy who threw the keys and hit me in the face!”

Some chick came on stage for a bit and sang with the band—the rumor is that it was one of the McDonald brothers’ daughters, but nay, that must be a misprint. No way these guys could ever be mature enough to take care of another living being, right?