Most Popular

  • DISD In the Hole
    Teachers get axed and parents fret as Dallas' school leaders scramble to cover a budget hole
  • Polygamy and Me
    Seven months have passed since the polygamist raid in Eldorado, but for one mainstream Mormon, the effects linger
  • Beer Is Good
    Texas law stifles state's craft brewers
  • How To Piss Off A Member Of Weezer
    Brian Bell isn't so hot on comparisons between past Weezer records and the latest
  • DISD's Confederacy of Jerks
    Extremely pushy parents—Latino, black and Anglo—must rise up to save DISD from itself

Recent Articles

Recent Articles by Jonanna Widner

National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Pinot Bizarre

    You won't believe the California wine industry's latest new-age craze.

    By Joe Eskenazi

  • Westword

    The Snowboard Bandits

    They lived for excitement, but the FBI got the final thrill.

    By Joel Warner

  • Seattle Weekly

    "Trash Fish"

    Chuck Bundrant built an unlikely seafood empire--with a little help from Alaska Senator Ted Stevens.

    By Laura Onstot

  • Village Voice

    The Transformation of Mike Bloomberg

    How a benevolent billionaire mayor ended up owning us all.

    By Wayne Barrett

Funeral Drive, with Hand of Onan, Agents of Goldstein and Seis Pistos

Thursday, October 4, at Andy's Basement, Denton

By Jonanna Widner

Published on October 03, 2007 at 11:28am

"The world is full of children/But I ain't ever had none/Cuz that means it's time to settle down/And give up all my fun"—such go the lyrics to Funeral Drive's "Ballad of Lonnie," a rockin' rave-up that combines the jaded worldview of a rockabilly cynic and the yee-haw exuberance of 21st-century rockabilly. The latter comes mainly in musical form, with the Denton quartet's chunky rhythms, jumping backbeat and perfect timing. "Brite Eyes," for instance, is almost Pixies-ish with its ragged up and down vocals and rhythm guitar shifting from distorted to clean. Singer Jaymes Gregory channels Black Francis and Nick Cave, plus a smidgen of zoot-suited voodoo daddies, while his band raves behind him. Expect a high-energy show, all sweat and booze. And wear something loose—you'll be dancing like crazy.



Dallas Observer Insiders

  • Local food, music and news blasts
  • Free Stuff
Backpage.com