Tag: Self

Can't say it better than the band: The Hives forever, forever the Hives.

The tang of fall is in the air, though the days are dressed for summer. I missed Frankie and the Witch Fingers when they were in town a couple of months ago due to work travel, and I was supremely bummed, as their particular take on electropunk is right in my wheelhouse. Tonight’s selection is a weird little experimental number from their latest release, which I highly recommend.

Stand well clear of Wet Leg as they bring the high voltage to their brand of CPR.

Normally an off night, but I had work travel. Many thanks to Honey Lady for switching nights so I can keep these hits coming! I am truly digging Audio Book Club and their demented Oklahoma skronk, hugging you warm and tight while they stab you in the back. Here’s hoping the Grand Valley is a stop should they venture westwards.

Welcome to a near-biographical experience as we focus on songs named after (and occasionally about) real people you may have heard of.

It was a day of jet-setting, starting in the dark hours of morning, and it wasn’t going to be over until the studio light went off. To keep up the energy levels, we presented a double-header of a special, first an hour of The Famous Polka, featuring songs titled after real (mostly) people, and following that two hours of Balkan Fever, with music that was far from exclusively Balkan but all fed into that manic two-step non-stop feeling.

It’s a formula as old as time — take four Japanese ladies, dress them up in color-coordinated dresses and makeup, and have them play aggressive earworms featuring kawaii harmonies and the lethal precision of a veteran death metal band. And yet somehow Otoboke Beaver rise above the rest of the entrants in this crowded field. Who am I kidding, they are one of a kind, and if you’re not listening to their latest album on repeat, you are missing out on a lot of endorphins.

Some bands are obscure, others are sporadic, but The Mabuses are downright enigmatic. Their music is hard to describe, and while the word "psychedelic" has become a commonplace and devalued label to put on something these days, in this case it would apply as a feeling of existing in a disjointed but entirely fascinating musical reality rather than a genre.

Covering the Beach Boys’ mythical album Smile from start to finish is not an original idea, but Joesph’s take on the matter is filled to the brim with inventive perspectives on a lost classic.

A fully synthesized version of Cronin’s previous album, this retake offers the same moody melodies as “Seeker”, this time filled to the brim with the warble and saw of old-tyme synthes.