Aw, it must be so hard for pop stars when they become successful. Today, camera phones and weblogs smudge the line between fan and critic, between celebrity and citizen.
After opening for indie rock sensations the Arcade Fire and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, it was only a matter of time before the Atlanta-via-Athens, Georgia group Snowden got picked up by a prominent independent label.
If you like your satire obvious and your states blue, you'll love American Dreamz. Picture a country where a bumbling Commander in Chief sees his term in office as a mandate from God and a contest for pop superstardom is tops on television.
Considering the recent success of Brooklyn-based indie rockers the French Kicks, it's hard to believe that only a few years back they were playing a gig to drunk kids at an unnamed Philly frat house.
We all know that entertainers are total sell-outs. Whether your problem is with the Rolling Stones for playing at the Super Bowl or Ice Cube for dropping his N.W.
In the wake of Ashlee Simpson's lip-synch debacle on SNL nearly two years ago, Kelefa Sanneh wrote a diatribe against its most strident critics in The New York Times. "The Rap Against Rockism" asked "Could it really be a coincidence that rockist complaints often pit straight white men against the rest of the world?" (A rockist, of course, being a subscriber to the creed of authenticity and a strict guitars-drums-bass worldview.) In other words, is "alternative rock," in all its monikers, yet another white boys' club defined by its own exclusivity?
Coachella, a documentary on the six-year-old Indio, California music festival of the same name, incessantly begs such questions by refusing to play to its strengths.
Who: Philadelphia's own Man Man
Genre: Experimental melodic mayhem
Sounds like: If Frank Zappa and Tom Waits had a child out of wedlock
Songs to download: "10 lb.
Much of the hype surrounding the Flaming Lips' long-in-the-works 12th album jumped on frontman Wayne Coyne's murmurs about "more guitars." The Oklahoma City veterans' last two albums, 1999's brilliant The Soft Bulletin and 2002's kinda brilliant Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, eschewed the band's tattered punk threads for heady, orchestrated prog.
It breaks my heart to have to say this, but Freddie Prinze Jr. turned 30 this month. That's right, kids, the guy whose boy-next-door charm made She's All That watchable has hit the big 3-0 ... and he's had one hell of a ride.
Their music has been dubbed new-wave, pop-punk and various combinations thereof, but stellastarr* just likes to call it "rock." Between watching soft-core porns and touring to promote their album, Harmonies for the Haunted, stellastarr*'s pretty busy these days.
Street: How would you define your music?
At first glance, nothing seems to be appealing about the new horror film Slither. In typical horror movie fashion, giant red slugs chase hapless South Carolina bumpkins up and down farm houses, through bathtubs, and other charming facets of small-town America.