Music historian and general brainiac George Gimarc knows a good thing when he hears it; he also knows a very, very bad thing when he hears it. Gimarc and co-author Pat Reeder have collected some of the worst of the very, very bad in Hollywood Hi-Fi: Over 100 of the…

With these hands Living here, it’s easy to get a bellyful of Austin, where the water tastes like wine. But there are advantages to living just a few hours from the Live Music Capital of the World, If Not the Galaxy; the semifrequent opportunity to see singer-songwriter Alejandro Escovedo is…

The other side of the pond The Return of Rico Bell Rico Bell Bloodshot The Edge of the World Mekons Quarterstick Even if you didn’t know Rico Bell from Adam, you’d be inclined to give his Return a lot of points based on its heartfelt vibe alone. Bell–founding member of…

Medicine Bag Bag of Fear Bag Lost Records Bag–unabashed fans of acid rock working in conjunction with mainstays of the local psychedelic garage-band scene like Burnin’ Rain’s Mike Pemberton–has come up with a late-’60s template that’s been scanned, morphed, and manipulated into the ’90s. Shimmering roller-rink keyboards, portentous vocals delivering…

Many folks were disappointed when harpist and singer Lee McBee left Mike Morgan’s band, the Crawl, citing the distance between Dallas and his home in Kansas City. Bands that do the R&B-blues boogie often live or die based on their lead vocalist; the affable McBee could don the requisite personas–lover…

Head of the class Certain albums–and, if they’re lucky, certain bands–so skillfully present both influence and intent that they come to stand for an entire genre. The Wrens sum up (deep breath) American post-punk rock the same way in which XTC can serve as the Cliff Notes for turn-of-the-’80s Brit…

Pilgrim’s progress You Can Say That Again Johnny Rodriguez Hightone Records How Great Thou Art Willie Nelson (with Bobbie Nelson) Finer Arts Records If Johnny Rodriguez had released You Can Say That Again in 1976, he might not be having a comeback now. This collection of new clothes–comfortably hung over…

Jeff Aycock makes a pretty good case for predestination. Recalling his childhood in the far-South Dallas Bon Ton neighborhood, he remembers that “everyday, on my way home from school, I’d pass this pawn shop and see all these instruments in the window, and I’d imagine playing them.” Thirty years later,…

Shuffling toward the Pleistocene Slowly, ponderously, it lumbers onto the horizon, its massive head turning first this way, then that. Somehow, it realizes, something’s changed. Is it that the sun is no longer as warm–this winter just a bit longer than the one before? Or is it something else? A…

Electric harvest Broken Arrow Neil Young and Crazy Horse Reprise There have been many different Neils in Young’s career: the icy jazzbo pretender of This Note’s For You and the earnest techno explorer of Trans; rockabilly reinvention vs. hard-rock revisionism and folkie perseverance; doper sociology played against cowboy myth and…

It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, a perfect time to call record labels and publicity firms and leave messages, secure in the knowledge that the folks who work there haven’t even hit their first snooze button yet, and you’ll be able to fulfill a return-call obligation without talking to any…

Junked and defunct Pawn Shop From Heaven Junky Southern Parallax A certain dulling of the critical faculties begins to occur in those who wander Local Band Hell overmuch: You stop holding out for quality and begin to settle for everybody starting and stopping at the same time, then for just…

Same as it ever was Stand By Tellus Tellurian Records With a surreal cover whose artistry would be right at home with any of Hipgnosis Studio’s bizarre illustrations for ’70s acts like Yes, Tellus announces that it shares the ambitions (and yes, the pretensions) of prog-rock standard-bearers. Of course, the…

It’s boom times and heady days for Dallas’ favorite insurgent honky-tonk combo, the Old 97’s; the band has just returned from a quick fortnight in Europe, where it met with continental acclaim, and now is hashing things out with a veritable Greek chorus of major record labels, including Elektra, MCA,…

The divine Miss B A myriad of identities? Sure, that’s something we allow our big-time artists–talents like Peter Gabriel or David Bowie–but a blues player? Har, you say, it is to laugh, especially when considering a blues bass player, and a gal at that. Nonetheless, Sarah Brown has had musical…

Not the same old blues Just Like You Keb’ Mo’ Okeh/Epic Can you have sunny blues? There’s no denying that on his second album, Keb’ Mo’ (Kevin Moore) assumes a decidedly upbeat tone, reminding the listener of Giant Step-era Taj Mahal, marrying the basic optimism of the folkie to traditional…

The heart’s inner currents Gone Again Patti Smith Arista Peace at Last The Blue Nile Warner Brothers With Gone Again, Patti Smith comes out of more than 15 years of semiretirement; the poet who for years was associated with the start of something–New York art-punk, basically–now contemplates the end of…

The past is revered–well, referenced–to an unprecedented degree by pop culture today; roots and history are important in a way that would’ve been unthinkable a decade ago. Chalk it up to pop’s voracious need for product–ideas for which have to come from somewhere–and it’s particularly true in music. That’s often…

Shaken, not stirred It’s Martini Time Reverend Horton Heat Interscope Records From the cover alone–a woman passed out on a barstool in the dark–you know that It’s Martini Time is no “have fun responsibly” bulletin, but another collection of chrome-plated tales from a ducktailed world of indulgence and excess: the…

Such a Deal The heartland of America grows its rockers big and brawny, so it’s no surprise that the Deal sisters–Kelley and Kim–hail from Ohio. They’ve both made names for themselves–Kim as a founding Pixie, the pair as the Breeders–but it was Kelley who stood out as the woman who…

Looking at Jim Suhler, it’s hard not to be reminded of renegades from high school: the stoners and gearheads had his long brown hair and aquiline nose, their slender frames no guarantee that they wouldn’t slap the crap outta you if you crossed them. In fact, Suhler pretty much was…

The roar of grease paint Like voting for Reagan, disliking KISS in its heyday is now something to which no one will will ‘fess. Saved by a wave of retro-chic, the KISS kabuki rock clowns–no doubt fueled by relentless, adoring demand–sometimes act as if they invented rock rather than simply…