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Dive Bars
A handcrafted tour of the best, most obscure places to lean on a stool in Houston.
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Getting Off
Attorney Tyler Flood says he wins 80 percent of his clients' DWI trials, even if they were 100 percent drunk as a skunk.
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Ghost Riders
In Houston, bicycling is known as a killer sport.
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Houston's Choice for Mayor
Black Guy, Rich White Guy, Lesbian or Hispanic Republican
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Burgers and Hash
Lola, a modern diner in the Heights is dishing up some top-notch Texas short-order cooking.
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BBQ Buffet
Korea Garden Grille offers a stellar selection of barbecue items in unlimited quantities — and new and interesting ways to eat them.
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Looking for a Bull Market
Killen's Steakhouse in suburban Pearland is probably best during boom times.
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Dive Bars
A handcrafted tour of the best, most obscure places to lean on a stool in Houston.
-
Burgers and Hash
Lola, a modern diner in the Heights is dishing up some top-notch Texas short-order cooking.
-
Houston's Choice for Mayor
Black Guy, Rich White Guy, Lesbian or Hispanic Republican
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Village VoiceWith the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century. By Elizabeth DwoskinMiami New TimesFrom the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal. By Gus Garcia-RobertsCity PagesStraight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat. By Bradley Campbell
Wilderness: (k)no(w)here
Published on November 25, 2008 at 10:02am
Wilderness guitarist Colin McCann's spindly, twangy work owes a significant debt to Gang of Four's Andy Gill, and between that and vocalist Jim Johnson's atonal declamations, the band frequently draws comparisons to post-punk bands like the Fall and Public Image Ltd. It's possible, however, to hear an entirely different set of connections on (k)no(w)here. McCann's guitar also has a chiming, martial quality; drawn out into long, slow, harmonically static songs, coated in reverb and backed by William Goode's stately drumming on a muted kit, it recalls the emo-influenced indie-rock practiced in the '90s by minimalist bands like Boilermaker and, early in their career, Cursive. Johnson, for his part, could be a beefed-up version of U.S. Maple's Al Johnson (no relation, presumably) or Make Believe-era Tim Kinsella. Like the latter, Johnson has the air of a feral prophet. It's very easy to hear his strange bellowing as that of a man driven to speaking in tongues by the drama that his band's chant-like rock generates. On (k)no(w)here's last three songs, a periodic extended climax more than 20 minutes long that dominates the record, Wilderness plays two kinds of music at once: a cold meditation on harmony and dynamics, and a searing, animalistic cry of primeval emotion.
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