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Nate Cavalieri

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  • 8 years ago

    Over the rumble of kettle drums, farty blasts of trombone and kid sis Martha's wailing—quite literally—about "fire and brimstone," Rufus Wainwright repeats a straightforward question on Release the Stars' opening number: "Do I disappoi...

  • 8 years ago

    While absorbing the Blueshammer ersatz and pheromone-scented metallurgy of Icky Thump, the White Stripes' sixth record, it's hard not to long for the candy-stripped sibs who once sat in that little room, working on something good. Remember them? W...

  • 8 years ago

    Gretchen Wilson, "Come to Bed" from One of the Boys Gretchen Wilson tore us a new one as a beer-drinkin', shit-kickin', Wal-Mart-lovin' "Redneck Woman." But aside from the hubristic drunk-driving anthem "All Jacked Up," Wilson's struggle to stay o...

  • 9 years ago

    For more than his pinchable cheeks, Ron Sexsmith has always been the kid at the adult-alternative cocktail party: He put together his first band at 14 and soon found Elvis Costello clutching his solo debut on the cover of Mojo like a life raft of ...

  • 9 years ago

    With a handful of underwhelming solo records and the drawn-out demise of Son Volt, Jay Farrar's last half-decade has been awfully uninspired—just song after song cut from the same dreary fabric that has resulted in so much monotonous blue-co...

  • 9 years ago

    To spectators of the Rust Belt garage-rock revival, the Raconteurs must seem like a dream come true. For Detroit darling Jack White, the band is the perfect chance for him to ditch his lubberly sidekick, Meg; for his Motor City counterpart, Brenda...