Most Popular
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American Girls
Crossing between American and Egyptian cultures, he Said girls made one deadly misstep: They fell in love
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The Man Who Would Be King
Freddy Haynes seemed a shoo-in to lead the NAACP. Then Obama's ex-pastor came to town.
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Bless Us, Oh Lard
Damn fajitas and health-conscious eaters. They're killing traditional Tex-Mex.
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For Whom the Bell Tolls
Electronic monitoring may dramatically curb truancy. So why isn't DISD interested?
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Sexy Town
Imagine a city with flowing creeks, walkable neighborhoods and greenery. No, not Seattle, dummy.
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The Best Albums of 2008, So Far...
Just over three months into 2008 and we're already fussing over which albums will make our year-end best-of lists
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Clubbed Over
Big changes are in store for Club Dada thanks to new ownership and a re-energized booking philosophy
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Blood, Sweat & Tears
The Red Blood Club's doors are closing—and Dallas' hardcore scene is all but dying with it
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Bringing Sachse Back
21-year-old Dondria Nicole's on the verge of a major-label push as we prepare for the Observer's 20th Music Awards issue
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Good Radio?
Indie rock finds a new home in Dallas' cluttered corporate radio landscape
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Recent Articles
Recent Articles by Robert Wilonsky
Hancock squanders potential greatness with lame humor and a half-baked hero
WALL-E blasts off to the future by boldly going where every sci-fi movie's gone before. And that's a good thing.
Saturday, June 28, at the Granada Theater
Tuesday, June 24, at Nokia Theatre
Weezer (Geffen)
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Broward-Palm Beach New Times
For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.
By Michael J. Mooney
City Pages
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By Jeff Severns Guntzel
The Pitch
How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."
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Houston Press
A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.
By Robb Walsh
Radiohead, Liars
Published on May 15, 2008
Radiohead's only the best live band in the world, as evidenced by the countless in-concert bootlegs (and the sole official release) that way outstrip the studio efforts, even when recorded from inside a concertgoer's back pocket 5,294 rows from the stage. Since The Bends, anyway, the albums have sounded as though they were recorded in a freezer unit in a vacuum in a vault; there's a distance there—the sound of a band keeping the audience at arm's length, lest you brush against Thom Yorke while he's e...mo...ting. But live, it's a whole 'nother story: raw, roaring, rocking—a monster-truck rally with guitars, with Jonny Greenwood behind the wheel and the audience just begging to get run over. Alas, it's sold out—but go and hang out behind Starplex anyway. No doubt you'll hear it. Feel it too, even better.