Tag: David Garza

We can’t say which alternate timeline Art D’Ecco came from, but we are grateful and hope they don’t miss them too dearly.

No doubt about it, The Vandals are the masters of the punk rock rug pull. In this particular instance, what starts out as a merely updated take on the Grease classic suddenly devolves into hyperkinetic chaos. No matter. The show proceeds! New releases are starting again, and the year is off to a strong start.

Like kids at the yoke of an army tank, Pom Poko mix childlike glee with unstoppable energy.

Magic is in the air, so we are starting most appropriately with Boom Pam and their take on Steve Miller’s “Abracadabra,” herein entitled “Alakazam.” It only got more magical from there with new music from Nick Cave, Fake Fruit, and Los Bitchos, all of whom are presently on desktop rotation. Next week: a special Fund Drive show.

A special collection of songs about humans and their interactions with water.

Taking a vibrantly psychedelic sound and drenching it in cavernous production has made sure Lilys have always floated through time with a sound that is clearly from the past but also obviously from the future.

This show kicks off with a one hour special entitled "Under The Waves" — songs about swimming, sinking, and other water-related activities. Somewhere in there we hear from The Elected, who are desperately missed.

It’s the triumphant return of Pom Poko and their shattered-and-reassembled attacks of aggression and affection, like the sonic equivalent of staying inside the sauna for as long as you can, then running out to roll around in the snow.

To make illuminati hotties for your gathering, splash melody and harsh noise into a tumbler, drop in some production trickery, and shake until you hear a dizzying howl emerge

The haberdasher heard a light thump and roll, then felt something tap against a shoe. It was a peach pit. Looking up from the stack of brochures, they saw the orthodontist grinning and wiping their mouth with a sleeve, glancing at the gap on the blanket where the fruit was drying in the sun, clearly suggesting that perhaps another one was in order. The tandem moped leaned against the back of the Gate of Hercules, shielded by its bulk from the bright Croatian summer sun. The peaches had hours to go, and they had forgotten to bring a game., having only whatever reading material they had managed to scrape up in the Hotel Pula lobby.