While the sophomore slump thing, releasing a vaguely disappointing follow-up to a surprisingly strong debut, may or may not be the most predictive model for a recording bands fortunes these days, especially since making records is often now a...
As the soul-streaked strains of Todd Park Mohrs voice laments the laws of love and justice on the bands new single Beautiful, carried on the wings of one of modern rocks most effortlessly nimble rhythm sections, it feels as if the Monsters are back again .
We go back from the early days of the festival circuit from 10 years ago, so you always look forward to seeing each other when festival season comes back around. Its like all the bands coming together in one communal environment. Its so different from your normal tour grind.
The journeyman electro-acoustic musician hammered dulcimer player to the ages, percussionist, electronic composer/improviser, core member of Zilla, guest artist to a withering resume of improv-sympathetic bands and artists is in the last...
Fourteen years, give or take, is a long time to be the guy off to one side, but Dave Rawlings, the guitarist/songwriter whos been accompanist to Gillian Welch since the mid-90s, is a studiously pragmatic musician.
Brant Turney drove his shovel into the soil on a property in west Boulder a couple of years ago, working a landscaping project for the property owner, when the business end of the blade hit something that wasn't supposed to be there. Or, wasn't supposed to be found.
Decades later, riding a career and repute capable of withstanding the perils inherent in such an ambitious project, Metheny brings forth a remarkable piece of work an entire CD composed on a modern extension of the player piano model, accumulating...
You can't help but wonder about the mechanics at work when Robben Ford and Larry Carlton work a stage together. Both are monster players with a deep bag of tricks.
Bassist Jonny Aherne sounded a little out of breath when we got him on the next try winded, and suitably awed by tradition walking through San Francisco's storied Fillmore Auditorium, the ghosts of Jerry and Jimi and Janis milling around backstage, probably brushing a little ceiling-plaster dust off their spectral shoulders.