Boxing in St. Louis will never die--not as long as Kenny Loehr has a kid in the ring.
South Florida's lawless exotic rental car industry keeps rolling.
In Texas, restitution for victims is nothing but a state-sanctioned sham.
If you thought Seattle couldn't fetishize coffee any more, you haven't been to a "cupping" yet.
"BARK BARK BARK IS BLOWING THE FUCK UP!" screams the big banner on the band's MySpace page. That may be overstating it, but the band—actually just Arizona's Jacob Safari plus a rotating crew of assorted friends—should be going places. Bark3's synth-y oeuvre is like a more friendly Nine Inch Nails—still distorted and fuzzy, but less freakishly aggressive. Not to say it's fluff, just more like industrial lite. But don't just take our word for it: Considering Bark3 shares a Saturday bill with the Paper Chase and the Great Tyrant, maybe Jacob and Co. are blowing the fuck up after all.