If you have never seen the Carolina Chocolate Drops live, you must immediately fill up your biggest thermos with tar-black coffee, get in the car and follow them to Indianapolis for their gig on Saturday.
The Magnetic Fields have amassed an army of loyal followers, and each one of us appreciates them for a different aspect of their eclectic catalogue.
Agent Ribbons ingredients: equal parts whimsy and caprice, eye of newt, spoonful of sugar, juice of widow spider, half cup assorted doll parts, mermaid tears, flight of fancy. Trim with arsenic and old lace.
I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can see the Sleigh Bells stage without risking blindness. What more would you expect from a band with amplifiers stacked to the ceiling than a strobe-lit show jarring enough to induce epileptic seizure?
In the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love, but even the most upbeat odes to autumn acknowledge that the season invokes a certain creeping melancholia.
If the Raveonettes were an insect, they would be a spindly black widow spider in a cloudy forest.
"I don't know what I'm doing up here," giggled Tennis' Alaina Moore behind a shock of Pantene-commercial hair, after an effusive thank you to old friends and opening act Making Movies.
Siblings: we love them, we hate them, but it turns out they make pretty great bands. Stagnant Pools, a brotherly duo fresh out of a van from Bloomington, Ind. kicked things off in the Luminary Center for the Arts' wide, dark basement gallery on Tuesday evening.
Assembled from house parties and basement shows back in 1999, Dr. Dog has graduated from Philadelphia's quirky underground scene to national tours, turning out seven very solid records along the way.
I am still finding pieces of confetti in my hair and clothes as I type this, remnants of a wet and wild weekend at LouFest 2012 in Forest Park.