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Written by Rameau Velez
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Even the name invokes images of pre-punk London: Lipgloss. It rolls off the
tongue, in all its glamorous grunge, pulsating with an electric attitude
that sums up the scene perfectly. What is Lipgloss? It’s not a bar,
or a club – it’s a night. A freaker’s ball with DJs that keep
it hot and drink specials that keep it affordable for the counterculture
socialites. It happens every Friday in La Rumba, a salsa club turned
weekly post-modern rave party.
From
blocks away, screams of delight can be heard above the subsonic throb
of subwoofers blasting against brick. Follow the tight black pants and
neon blazers to the corner of 9th and Acoma , pay the $5 cover
and check your pretensions at the door. Every cafeteria clique is accounted
for in the front lounge area, which is marked by a retro design and
an extended bar. If dancing isn’t your thing, this will be a safe
haven.
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Written by Aimee Herman
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David Kilgour: The Far Now
Merge, 2007
Even though David Kilgour will
get you puzzled looks from most people in America, even those well versed
in “indie” and “alternative” rock, he is the legendary singer
and guitarist of New Zealand’s The Clean.
The jangly, punky garage rock
that made Kilgour famous was an influence on so much underground music
it’s almost difficult to listen to anything tagged with the “indie”
label without hearing echoes of The Clean. Mr. Kilgour could have rested
on his laurels 29 years after his old band first got together.
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Written by Tom Murphy
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Time: “The Fantastic Reality”
Dirty Laboratory, 2008
Time, the frontman of .Calm, veritably has words flowing out of his head at light speed. Fortunately, the light of his inspiration doesn’t serve to spotlight hip-hop egomania. Rather, it is dynamic poetry that gives shape to and highlights what it means to be a creative, intelligent person in a world that doesn’t often reward true artistry.
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Written by Tom Murphy
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Red Pony Clock: "God Made Dirt"
Happy Happy Birthday To Me Records, 2007
Someone was bound to take old Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass records and find the beauty in them. And then bring that ineffable sound into their own music and make it not only cool but use it to enhance what they already do well.
Gabe Saucedo has been writing ambitious and heartbreakingly sincere music for years at this point. On this record, his songs, and those of longtime collaborator, Tony Prudhome, prove that not only can pop music be richly layered but also still has the ability to say interesting things about our lives without peddling in tired, saccharine clichés.
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Written by Christine Spehar
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Electronic music: it’s the unoriginal soundtrack of raves, the pulsing heartbeat of those hedonistic brain-cell annihilation-fests, the stuff of naive candy kids strung out on ecstasy, right?
Well, in all honesty, yes, it sometimes is. But don’t all music genres have to put up with a few cheesy, embarrassing members the way pop music does with, say, Britney Spears? Most believe that a typical “techno” song consists of a variation of an “unts-unts” bass beat over the top of a Sarah McLaughlin remix, something that took about as much thought and creativity to produce as the “tracks” my hamster, Chuckles, “laid down” when she escaped her cage and walked across the piano keyboard.
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Written by Tom Murphy
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Bela Karoli : "Furnished Rooms"
Beta-lactam Ring Records, 2007
For anyone who picked up the Bluebook album last year, some of these songs are already pleasantly familiar. After a name change to Bela Karoli, this project reworked the older material but lost none of the inventive quirkiness that made vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Julie Davis’ material so compelling in the first place.
On the surface, it’s easy to lump this band, and this record, in with the whole Americana movement or the frayed roots, gypsy swing of Devotchka. But they cleverly cite their genre as “western swing,” which is no more meaningful than any other category and yet it’s fitting.
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Written by Tom Murphy
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Mannequin Makeout
"Spring Tour 2007 CD"
Still Soft Recordings, 2007
Too much of the recent keyboard, danceable post-punk has been merely the indie set’s equivalent of party music with little more to recommend it.
Mannequin Makeout, however, aims to be something more interesting.
The jaggedly jittery guitar riffing you’d expect is there, but it’s used more creatively by alternating between those kinds of sounds and wiry leads. The rhythm section is often hectic, insistent and angular but in a way that doesn’t induce an instinct to move to the music. Rather, the rhythm fits into the larger framework of the band’s sound.
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