During last year's Vans Warped Tour, a hand-held radio was stolen. After being threatened and even bribed by tour security, the culprit demanded only one thing in return for the over-expensive piece of equipment -- to meet Fall Out Boy.
In Toronto, if you're not in Broken Social Scene, you're aching to get in. A total of 17 members are credited for their latest release, an eponymous follow-up to 2003's critically acclaimed You Forgot It In People. While individual projects within the band such as Stars, Feist, and Metric have achieved success in the indie realm, the combined output amounts to a blissful musical orgasm that you could never expect, even from a group with that much talent.
What separates this Canadian collective from supergroups like the New Pornographers is a well developed willingness to experiment.
Music publications triumphantly announce when they've found "the next big thing" from the U.K. After the tenth time, it becomes hard to tell if they actually listen to some of these bands for any reason other than the fact that they're (gasp) British.
In the world of pop music, Scandinavia has always been a source of successful imports. From ABBA to Ace of Base, these acts have remained unapologetically "pop," climbing to the top of the U.S.
Seu Jorge ignited a samba fury during his sold-out show last Tuesday at the First Unitarian Church. Better known as the minstrel seaman with a penchant for acoustic Portuguese renditions of David Bowie classics in last year's The Life Aquatic, Jorge has emerged from humble beginnings in the slums of Rio de Janeiro to become a hot import in both the film and music worlds.
Jorge and his charismatic band commanded the packed audience of urban hipsters, ethno-musicologists, and Brazilian fanatics with their no-frills local samba stylings.
Kanye West stands as a fascinating figure in music today. The Chicago producer-turned-MC blends bourgeois intellectualism with lower-class sympathy, swagger with insecurity.
Joshua Radin missed out. He missed out big, and he knows it. When Radin's college buddy Zach asked him to contribute a song to his upcoming movie's soundtrack, Radin turned him down; he didn't have the money to record the track.
Phoenix has a problem with sound check, and I don't speak French. Lead singer Thomas Mars turns to the engineer on his right, points at his microphone, then waves his hand in an upward motion.
It was Spring Break, and I had just gotten in from college. My parents and I were sipping Coronas, and I was explaining to them why I hadn't gone to the Bahamas.
"Christianity has become something I don't think Jesus would recognize, frankly."
Forty-one years old, eight albums deep into her career and just recently a mother, singer-songwriter Tori Amos -- a minister's daughter -- is not going to let her child grow up the way she did.