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Swingtown
Local swingers think life is a bowl of cherries, but Duncanville wants to spit out the Pit
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Deep Ellum LIVES!
Scott Beck's about to buy 14 acres in the"heart" of Deep Ellum. What then?
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Un-Super Size Me: One Week of Eating Local
One mans attempt at slow food living in the Dallas metroplex
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Toll You So
The Trinity River Project should be floating right along. Instead it's sinking under the weight of its own folly.
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Six Pac
The Cowboys are counting on NFL outlaw Pacman Jones to pop the top on their sixth Super Bowl.
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Yeah, Grandmaster Flash graced the ones and twos at Ghostbar this weekend. But who cares? The people there didn't seem to.
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Behind the Curtains
A weird weekend in Deep Ellum: names were changed, CDs were released, and two bands supposedly called it quits
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Another Matter Entirely
The members of The Theater Fire are as different as Lightness and Darkness
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Dirty Talk
Twenty years later, the godfathers of grunge in Mudhoney still remember their roots
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Pet Peeves
The Beach Boys are popping up everywhere this year in music but don't seem to be getting their due
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Recent Articles by Mikael Wood
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Modest Mouse
March 16
Published on March 11, 2004
When I interviewed Modest Mouse front man Isaac Brock before the release of 2000's The Moon & Antarctica-- the band's major-label debut after a handful of indie releases that cultivated a very devoted following--I'm pretty sure I got stoned via secondhand smoke. We were hiding out from rabid fans in the MM van behind Chicago's Cabaret Metro, and Brock didn't take my bleary eyes as an invitation to roll the damn window down. Four years later, that episode makes more sense than it did then: Good News for People Who Love Bad News, Modest Mouse's forthcoming full-length, is a jam-happy hunk of down-home rustica more in tune with the soul of the hippie than the brain of the hipster. There's still plenty of Brock's signature guitar squall and loads of his mush-mouthed trailer-park jive, but the band's new songs also make room for scratchy fiddle whine, weird wind instrument wheeze and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band's bong-water bleat. Onstage in New York last month, Brock and the boys sacrificed much of that backwoods detailing for a live whomp from their post-punk past, so I'd advise against heading to the Ridglea Tuesday night expecting an accurate preview of Good News. But do expect good news.