I feel gypped on the boozy rock 'n' roll in my lifetime. I was much too young for the Replacements. And, hell, even my parents weren't around for the Rolling Stones or Bob Dyaln's electric folk. But at the Pageant on Wednesday night, the rambunctious alt-country rock of Ryan Bingham instilled that same excitement felt towards those bands I so desperately wanted to see.
Don't mess with his microphone. Crank it up and keep it loud. Standing well over six feet, and sporting a "Sex, Drugs and Rap" shirt, the one and only Ghostface Killah brought his aggressive yet intricate delivery to St. Louis on Saturday night, proving why he's one of the most impressive rappers of Wu Tang descent.
The Strokes have taken quite the detour since their proto-punk sound of the early 2000s. Where the Strokes once charmed with their simple, lackadaisical garage pop, 2006's "First Impressions of Earth" proved a bizarre and unrewarding attempt at new wave; the band then returned in 2011 with the even odder sounding album, "Angles."
The club fills with fog, sludge-covered power chords pin you against the wall. Bright lights and even more fog seep from the Off Broadway stage to reveal two brothers, also known as JEFF the Brotherhood.
Sock puppets? Check. Science-themed songs? Yep. Hilarious onstage banter? Oh yeah. Baritone sax? Check. Welcome to a They Might Be Giants show.
Gentle and poignant, coffee house vet John Batdorf continues to strum out his particular brand of folky soft rock with mystique and passion.
Forgetting the guitar is the trick for Mutts. Lead man Mike Maimone's Wurlitzer organ emits only the evilest of evil riffs, picking up where Deep Purple might have left off in the early seventies.
The 1982 "Weathered Statues" EP, released on Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles label, stands as one of the lesser-known albums in a catalog mired in obscurity. These four songs may not constitute T.S.O.L.'s best effort, as it seems like a quick glance at a passing phase -- not unlike the fall season.
"¡Uno!" plays as an exuberant, physical release after several years of Green Day's devotion to political punk-rock operas.
Americana runs deep with Knoxville's Dirty Guv'nahs. They boogie like Lynyrd Skynyrd, jam like the Zac Brown Band and strut with huge belt buckles like Tim McGraw.