The night before Halloween in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred Seventy-Six, Richie Manuel led The Band in an awe-inspiring rendition of Georgia On My Mind for a Saturday
I have no idea as to the origin of this photo, but it’s one of the funniest Photoshop jobs in both music and political history…makes for good filler. “We got
I have no idea as to the origin of this photo, but it’s one of the funniest Photoshop jobs in both music and political history…makes for good filler. “We got
We’re doling out an added bonus with every post that stinks of blogger autofellatio, so allow us to present your reward up front: Saturday marked the seventh anniversary of the
I learned at an early age to heed the sage advice of those two important wisdom dispensers that regularly preached “Don’t believe the hype.”
That strong warning from Chuck D and Flava Flav against getting caught in a rushing, gushing torrent of positive hysteria has often proven prophetic, but as it turns out after my virginal awakening last night at the Roseland Ballroom, My Morning Jacket is clearly the exception that proves the rule.
Jimmy James Incorporated (any Newsradio fans?) and the disgusting amount of hype surrounding the Louisville-based “post-jam” band blew through New York like Hurricane Gloria last night, and I’m not entirely sure of the last time I’ve exited a show with such a strong first impression or melted face: The caliber of their balls-to-the-wall, fuck-your-face rock from start to finish actually made my brain hurt from all the spastic headbanging I involuntarily enjoyed.
It must’ve been my morning blazer night at the Roseland as well, with more sport jackets per capita than any venue in the country. But the well-diversified crowd came to rock, and from the hot-out-of-the-gate opener to the 36-song encore, MMJ last night exhibited all the qualities that have just about every music blogger out there calling them the “best band in the country.” After that show, I can’t disagree, either because they were that damn good, or because I’m hurting so bad this morning I feel like Terri Schiavo over here…
I learned at an early age to heed the sage advice of those two important wisdom dispensers that regularly preached “Don’t believe the hype.”
That strong warning from Chuck D and Flava Flav against getting caught in a rushing, gushing torrent of positive hysteria has often proven prophetic, but as it turns out after my virginal awakening last night at the Roseland Ballroom, My Morning Jacket is clearly the exception that proves the rule.
Jimmy James Incorporated (any Newsradio fans?) and the disgusting amount of hype surrounding the Louisville-based “post-jam” band blew through New York like Hurricane Gloria last night, and I’m not entirely sure of the last time I’ve exited a show with such a strong first impression or melted face: The caliber of their balls-to-the-wall, fuck-your-face rock from start to finish actually made my brain hurt from all the spastic headbanging I involuntarily enjoyed.
It must’ve been my morning blazer night at the Roseland as well, with more sport jackets per capita than any venue in the country. But the well-diversified crowd came to rock, and from the hot-out-of-the-gate opener to the 36-song encore, MMJ last night exhibited all the qualities that have just about every music blogger out there calling them the “best band in the country.” After that show, I can’t disagree, either because they were that damn good, or because I’m hurting so bad this morning I feel like Terri Schiavo over here…
I’m not very technologically advanced. Sure I’ve got two blogs, a cellular telephone, a handful of DVR boxes and wireless Internets, but if technological stupidity were dirt, I’d cover a full acre or two. I’m
We’re more than 90 posts into this blog’s mediocre existence, and not once have we cross-promoted anything from our Glide Magazine parent. I was hoping to make it to 100 posts without
As if anyone in the New York/New Jersey/Connecticut tri-state area needed an additional incentive to see the quasi-reunited-and-it-quasi-feels-so-good Greyboy Allstars at the Nokia Theater two days before New Year’s Eve, the
Tuesday begets YouTubes, and lots of ’em. Here’s 45 minutes worth of cool shit to shepherd your boredom while the cowboy earns his wages… Let’s start things off with a
