No one else in thrash metal's so-called Original Top 4 (Slayer, Megadeth, Anthrax, Metallica) will ever be as a pleasing to the average pop fan’s palate as James Hetfield and pals. Slayer, is well, Slayer. Need we say more? Songs about blood and the Holocaust don’t really move units. The other two are just jovial VH-1 Classic footnotes with multi-colored goatees or regretful ex-heroin addicts who can’t admit failure, or the fact that they were both on the Last Action Hero soundtrack.
In
A pacer by nature, Rocks Off is already so excited about Sunday's AC/DC show he can hardly sit down long enough to type a complete sentence. So imagine how difficult it was to sit at the keyboard while listening to a solid hour of Sirius/XM's "AC/DC Radio" channel. Or don't, actually, because there's no way he's sitting down for a second when the Aussies' rock and roll train pulls into Toyota Center Sunday night. Anchors aweigh!
3:09 p.m.: The very end of "T.N.T.," Angus Young shredding away.
Craig HlavatyWallet, keys, lighter, cellphone, camera(s). We had it all last night as we walked into the arty confines of the East End's Super Happy Fun Land. But one thing we didn't have was a pair of earplugs, and right about now we feel kinda silly not dishing out the extra buck for the ones sitting right behind the counter.
Two of Houston's loudest bands, Muhammad Ali and Black Congress, brought forth a hellacious ferocity last night that grinded down the eardrums with the equally decibeli
Photos by Chris Gray
Th' Legendary Shack Shakers are a sort of Blue Ridge Parkway answer to Los Skarnales, mining Anglo-American roots music and all things Memphis - Sun Records, Beale Street and the Oblivians - to create a turbo-charged, gypsy-flavored, punk-speed rockabilly dynamo with a metric ton of harmonica and a freight-train backbeat that refuses to quit. When they say they're about to slow things down for a ballad ("Ichabod"), that means they're actually about to speed up.Burning
In last week's Houston Music Fight Club, we pitted six of Houston's brightest-shining musical diamonds against one another in a sort of cruel Internet death match. The only blood drawn was the dark crimson blood of laughter that...yeah, we need to work on our metaphors.
Anyhow, we came up with three more semi-local celebrity cage matches. We hope that this actually catches on in real life, so that one day it can be sold to pay-per-view for the rest of the world to gawk at. Finally we will have a
Chicks, man. Can't live with them, can't play music that objectifies them while in the car on the first date. What's up with that? You play one song with the queen mother c-word in it and she leaves the car before we get our complimentary paper crowns.
We compiled a list of songs guaranteed to offend the lady in your life, especially if she's a prude or, ya know, has a degree in something or other. We never asked what it was in because right before we were going to, the DJ started playing "Warm
Photos by Craig HlavatyAll my friends know the Low Rider: Black CongressIt's getting harder and harder every day here in Houston to find bands who know how to rock the ever-loving fuck out. Sure some of you do a good job at riding straight grooves and crafting shit-hot slabs of indie swoon. We appreciate the hell out of that smack, but some nights we want liberation, pain, and torture to soundtrack those hours of darkness. We dig love, but sometimes we have a bloodlust that needs an overture.
