Rock
Classic rock (which is really a radio format, not a musical genre) is a strange animal, which has spawned an audience that apparently cares more about hit songs and memories than about who’s actually onstage.
Even by Widespread Panic’s intuitive standards, this was a fairly challenging show: The setlist seemed to favor their deeper, less outgoing material.
There have been three pop LPs this year that I’ve really been digging: they are gloriously wacky.
These challenging LPs offer opposing, but equally thrilling, aural/cinematic adventures: one is an overblown grindhouse flick, the other a wondrous fantasy feature.
Michael Nesmith’s proto-Americana songs had aged the least—listen to the jangly guitar and stream-of-conscious lyric on “Tapioca Tundra” and you’d swear that was where R.E.M. got the idea.
The tunes on Joey Pizza Slice’s new LP are personal enough to leave many listeners scratching their heads, asking “Is this guy for real?”
Whether it was intended or not, Searching for Sugar Man did more than delve into the past of Sixto Rodriguez; it created his future.
The band was still Television and often as not, still magnificent.
I love an album that ends with a bang – and The Swans’ To Be Kind ends with four.
Better than Ezra may be more than a hardworking, nice-guy band permanently fated to be overshadowed by more significant artists.
Classical Music Commentary: Boston’s Lost Opportunity — How the BSO Board Chose Charles Munch over Leonard Bernstein