Critic's Notebook

Pop quiz, everybody: How many emo kids does it take to screw in a light bulb? OK, pencils down. The correct answer is five — one to do it, one to form a band about it, one to write a poem about his loss, one to cry to his girlfriend…

In Berkeley last week, the peace movement rolled out the big musical guns: a massive antiwar protest concert featuring Chuck D., Ani DiFranco, Ozomatli, and Michael Franti’s Spearhead. Franti left no room for debate, debuting a new single called “You Can Bomb the World to Pieces but You Can’t Bomb…

Lou Reed’s interpretation of Edgar Allan Poe is an all-star double-disc set that aims to modernize one of the most presciently psychological American storytellers. At more than two hours, it’s an ambitious, often wild work, teeming with almost as many names from the New York and Los Angeles glitterati as…

Here is a woman who, for a too-brief span of the early to mid-1970s, was the best songwriter in the world. For four great records — starting with Ladies of the Canyon, concluding with Court and Spark — Joni Mitchell established her reputation as the preeminent female singer-songwriter, setting the…

Instrumental music too often puts finesse over feeling, forsaking emotion for expertise. This isn’t the case with the debut from guitarist Adam Rich. On Foundation, which was recorded more than three years ago, Rich proves himself a workmanlike player who seldom elevates virtuosity over sentiment. Sure, Rich can wail –…

The last half of 2000 was a bittersweet purgatory for “Big” Chad Neptune. The year-in-the-making full-length debut, The Moon Is Down, of his band, Further Seems Forever, was finally completed. To celebrate, the Pompano Beach outfit took a month-long jaunt through the Midwest and Southeast to preview the material. But…

It’s high noon in the historic district of Delray Beach. Two members of the Yoko Theory, Nathan Farnham and Henri Lemaire, haven’t been awake for long, so they’re a little punchy. But after a brief exchange about wearing panties on-stage and whether New Times can print the word fuck, the…

I read The Catcher in the Rye about seven times before I realized that it depicted Holden Caulfield’s spiral into depression. Initially, I thought he was just a caustically sarcastic son of a bitch with a love for alcohol. When my tenth-grade English teacher pointed out that Holden was telling…

With a setting Sun, a dead King, a reformed Killer, and empty Stax, Memphis has spent the past few decades coasting on the fumes of its musical reputation. After making the world suffer through countless garage bands rehashing the same old, same old, Memphis has come up with Lost Sounds:…

There’s a battlefield face-off approaching on the retail warfront, with South Florida’s put-upon small record stores providing a longevity litmus test. That’s why a recent rumor struck so ominously — that revered outlet Blue Note Records in North Miami Beach might be shuttering its rock room. “No, no, no,” insists…

Deerhoof is like that quiet kid you sat next to in second grade. The one who drew pictures of unicorns being devoured by sharks. The kid who terrified and fascinated you at the same time. Reveille, the band’s third album, uses 16 melodious but maddening songs to evoke that same…

Doug Martsch, the soul and pulse of Built to Spill, was never much of a rock ‘n’ roll egoist. And now that his band is on hiatus and he’s doing the solo-album thing, he sounds even less like one. With Now You Know, Martsch continues to whittle his songwriting down…

Heavily influenced by Judas Priest, Saxon helped found the new wave of British metal that triggered Metallica and countless other headbangers. Undoubtedly, the group’s knee-slapping song titles (“Dragon’s Lair,” “Princess of the Night”) and lineup shifts also inspired the comic minds behind This Is Spinal Tap. Debuting with a strong…

The premise for Lil Jon & the Eastside Boyz’ latest video, “Play No Games,” is a straight-up contradiction. On the followup single to “I Don’t Give a…,” the reigning Kings of Crunk (from their album by the same name) smooth out their usual rowdy club chants and croon all sentimental-like…

Freddie McGregor wears a big smile as he strolls through the double doors of the Dania Beach hotel lobby. Staff members at the registration desk light up with smiles of recognition when they notice the reggae great come in from the rain. The next several minutes are giddy with handshakes…

Devendra Banhart’s debut is a mixture of song fragments, whistles, handclaps, chants, and some of the most oddly affecting full-blown songs you are likely to hear all year. Recorded on four-track — and occasionally on ye olde answering machine — the music rolls out slowly and sometimes abrasively, jarring listeners…

Boca Raton, are you ready to get your wig on? It’s time to party like it’s 1980 with the only celebrated Athens, Georgia, band that’s not a pathetic self-parody yet. While R.E.M. produces art movies and plays faux farmer, the B-52’s continue to hit the road to the delight of…

There we were, convocating with our cup holders. The total commute from central Broward County to the Concrete (er, Convocation) Center on the University of Miami campus in Coral Gables: one hour and 25 minutes. Approaching the just-opened venue from southbound U.S. 1 was — face it, folks — a…

“No-wave,” “art-rock,” “post-punk,” “post-wave,” “garage-art.” The quest to find a new, fresh label for New York City’s ubiquitous underground sound has taken a toll on journalists. They’re tired. They’re sleep-deprived. They’re taking hackneyed phrases and hyphenating them! The Big Apple is blessed with good musical genes, but the recent outpouring…

Phish is back — a new album, a new tour, the whole kit and caboodle. And not a moment too soon: Without Phish, the nomadic throng of folks with a jones for drawn-out jams has been forced to migrate toward lesser musicians who headline gigs in Bumblefuck, Maine. To wit,…

One Bedroom starts out perky — almost too much so. Like that little dog, Chester, who constantly kissed up to Spike in the Tom ‘n’ Jerry cartoons, “Four Corners” opens the record with an insistent hook, a chiming tug on your sleeve that says, “C’mon, guys! If you forgive us…

Will Luna always stand like a wallflower, picked last for every dance? The band’s ten-year mission — fusing fragrant guitar melodies with potently acerbic lyrics — has gone rather well. Somehow, though, unreservedly praising Luna would be like saying Foghat was your favorite band — representative of the style, sure,…