AMERICAN FANGS: Oh, yes. American Fangs are really-truly one of the best damn things going in this city right now -- they're a rock band, to be sure, equal parts punk, alt-rock, and metal, with an added streetwise edge that makes them pretty freaking unique. They're raw, heavy, and loud, and best of all, they just don't give a fuck. American Fangs shows are a roof-punching free-for-all, with the band and the crowd going nuts.

Of course, none of that would matter at all if the songs themselves weren't pretty badass -- catchy and smart and melodic right where it needs to be. There's only one release so far, a self-titled EP that includes number-one track "Le Kick," which is my personal pick for Best Song of 2009, but I've got my fingers crossed for more. They're reportedly working on a full-length, but I'm not sure when it'll be out in the field, so to speak, particularly since guitarist Shelby "Schultz" Hohl left the band to focus on Free Press Houston-related stuff.

In the meantime, they've been making some big, big waves, playing the Afro-punk festival this year up in Brooklyn and getting some good ink. If these boys can stick around a while longer, they're headed for good, good things, I swear to God.

I should mention, by the way, that these guys have a ridiculous level of H-town band history behind 'em, although I've been sworn to secrecy as to which bands and whatnot they've been involved in -- the main idea is to focus less on the past and more on the present. Which is pretty damn impressive on its own... [9/19/2009]

B L A C K I E: Hip-hop as full-on, break-your-skull assault; that's what B L A C K I E (all caps, w/spaces) is all about, at least sonically speaking. The one-man show behind the hoodie, Michael Lacour, spits rhymes over beats he's cobbled together from Cat Stevens and Abba samples, random TV noise, and trip-hammer blastbeats. Lacour himself stalks around the floor of whatever venue he's in, whether it's a muddy pit outside by the street or a cavernous club with a gigantic sound system, pouring out lyrics about alienation, suicide, and white-boy poseurs from the suburbs, all the while looking like he's all alone in his head, not even aware of an audience.

Half the time the crushing beats, punishing but slow like an Atari Teenage Riot 7" that's been melted in the sun on somebody's dashboard, overwhelm the lyrics, true, but somehow it all fits together anyway and works, especially live. His Wilderness of North America full-length is pretty incredible on its own (although I wouldn't recommend listening while you're halfway to slitting your wrists, because it might help you along), but live it's something totally freaking unique, like nobody else you're going to see.

The overall sound in both cases comes closest to Justin Broadrick & Alec Empire's Curse of the Golden Vampire, but there's also a Dälek kind of thing going on, and a hint of Company Flow, a little Massive Attack, and yeah, a deeply-buried thread leading back to DJ Screw, too. It's heavy, it's dark, it's noisy, and it's messy but focused at the same time, like a mentally disturbed person coming at you out of the shadows of an alley, angry and confused but convinced you're the person who's been beaming signals into their head and out for revenge.

Caveat time: this shit ain't for everyone. For some, B L A C K I E (the caps & spaces are necessary, by the way) will undoubtedly not do much more than cause a great big fucking migraine that tunnels through the front part of your skull. And that's okay, because it narrows the field to those who can really, truly grasp at least a bit of what Lacour's doing. The rest can go listen to Kanye and have fun.

Sadly, there're only a few B L A C K I E releases in existence at this point, and they're not all that easy to find. As far as I'm aware, Lacour's self-released Wilderness album is only available through him, and his cassette-only Death Tape '05 on Heavy Leather Records is out-of-print. He's got an online-only EP available, though, Dope and Doper, and apparently there's a split release due out on Dull Knife Recs with Cop Warmth, an anarchic Pasadena noise-punk crew Lacour has some kind of connection with. Grab a copy if you can. [7/3/2009]

BLACKMARKET SYNDICATE: These guys have relatively quickly managed to become one of my favorite cruising-in-the-car bands, based pretty much solely on the strength of their debut full-length, Why Do We Even Try?. Which doesn't happen all that often, I have to say -- but damn, I love, love, love Deathbed Repentance's (now Blackmarket Syndicate's) particular brand of rootsy, raw-throated, almost folk-lyrical punk rock. These guys remind me of all the parts of the whole punk idiom that I like: the loud, bitterly angry guitars that still carry a nice tune, the songs about bottomed-out people and fucked-up situations, the unpolished, unapologetically human (but still impressively in-check) vocals, the whole deal.

Seriously, the music sounds like it could've stomped and howled straight off an early Social Distortion LP, body-checking Billy Bragg and The Clash (and Rancid, to boot) along the way. And hey, there're hints of contemporaries like Time Again, American Steel, & Street Dogs, to boot. There's even some seriously country touches on Why Do We Even Try?, embellishments that feel more authentic coming from real-live Texas boy Randy Rost than they ever did coming from Mike Ness (sorry, Mike; you're The Man, but still...). All of which explains why these four guys have already gotten attention from Tim Armstrong's Hellcat Records -- they're currently on their own (I think?) label, Time's Up! Records, but if there's any justice in the world, they'll soon be movin' on up.

The only bad thing here is that this is so far the only full-length these guys have out. There's also a 7" that I think might've preceded the CD, but I've never actually seen it, unfortunately. On the positive side, they're apparently working on a followup full-length, due out in Summer 2009, and in the process they've apparently changed their name from Deathbed Repentance to "Blackmarket Syndicate." Not sure what the reasoning was behind the change, but hey, the name's not the critical part, right? [12/23/2008]

THE BORN LIARS: I don't really know why I waffled on these guys as long as I did -- I'd been hearing great, great stuff about the Born Liars for a couple of years, but I'd always kind of shrugged and blew 'em off. I'd liked frontman/guitarist/singer Jimmy Sanchez (who apparently also writes all the songs) in his old band, Gun Crazy, but never felt like they were really everything they could've been; I guess I transferred that so-so feeling over to the Liars.

And that's a shame, because these guys are pretty much the personification of the H-town garage-rock/punk scene in all its ragged, boozy, shredded-throat glory. What did it for me was the band's "Don't Tell Me, I Know" 7-inch on Rosa "Scene Godmother" Guerrero's Ditchwater records -- that one track, packed full of sneering, bitter vitriol, plenty of cheap liquor, and awesomely warm, analog-distorted guitar that crackles like a bonfire more than some layered electronic fuzz, opened my eyes to how truly great these guys are (the slit-your-wrists drunken despondence of the B-side, a cover of Stevie Wonder's "I Don't Know Why" helped, too).

After that, I found myself wandering back to the band's first full-length, Exit Smiling, and digging past the too-clean production that'd put me off in the past to find the album's nitro-burning soul beneath. The truth is that these guys write great, addictively catchy songs that owe as much to Jerry Lee Lewis's on-the-edge boogie as they do Heartbreakers/Stooges/MC5 rawk, and they play it like they've lived every second of it, all the heartbreak and betrayal and fights and bars, the way nobody really has in this town since Sugar Shack called it quits. Heck, their live shows have a reputation for turning into mean near-fights among the band members themselves.

In terms of local rock bands, the Liars have thankfully been remarkably prolific, cranking out first Exit Smiling, an inaugura 7" I've never seen, then the Ditchwater vinyl, and in early-early 2009, the latest LP, Ragged Island, which grabs hold of the promise of Smiling, peels back any semblance of pretty sheen, and fashions the band's sound into something damn near to classic. They've also got a third 7" on the way, on Chris Ryan's Heavy Leather Records, with even more to come -- there's a 7" comp with No Talk & some other folks, plus either an EP or another whole damn full-length nearly completed. These guys don't fuck around. [3/12/2009]

BRIGHT MEN OF LEARNING: Okay, so here's the (basic) scoop: Bright Men of Learning frontguy Marshall Preddy used to front a band called the Wholesome Rollers back in the day. They fell apart, so he formed another band, called telluride. They got sued by two country bands from the '70s, so they became Chasmatic, figuring (rightly?) that the safest way to come up with a band name nobody else is using is to make up a brand new word. Chasmatic worked for a few years, surviving personnel changes (original bassist Josh Denk moved on up to the greener pastures, er, woodland meadows of Maine some years ago), plenty of shows, and at least one CD.

A while back, though, Marshall and crew -- drummer Jeff Senske, guitarist Chris Kahlich, and bassist Jonathan Sage -- decided to retire the Chasmatic moniker and went instead for something that better described their grad school-educated selves, Bright Men of Learning. In the process, they gained a new member, ex-We've Got Airplanes/Panic In Detroit/Lucky Motors/etc. guy Ben Murphy, who plays guitar, percussion, and, uh, whatever else, it looks like. And holy crap, yours truly decided to update their name on this Website just in time for their brand new, self-titled CD (out this past May 2006).

Which was pretty timely, it turns out, because it's darn good. I've watched these guys progress quite a bit over the last several years, and while I've always enjoyed 'em, with the Bright Men phase of things, it finally feels like they've really come into their own. Marshall, of course, still follows his own odd muse with his songwriting, and the result ends up sounding like a smart, sarcastic, intimate melding of Pavement and Son Volt. A little bit country, a little bit indie-rock, a little bit pop, and the whole thing rocks. The CD as Chasmatic back in 2002, Kicker Wisdom, has some good stuff on it; much as I like it, though, it can't really compare to the band in a live setting, or even to the new album. True, the Bright Men ain't one of those bounce-around-the-stage-on-a-pogo-stick kind of bands (in fact, other than Ben and Jeff, they don't tend to move much), but their performances are pretty compelling even still. [2/22/07]

BRING BACK THE GUNS: Y'know, I like a fair number of bands in this town (as evidenced by how freakin' long this page has gotten), but it's still pretty rare that anybody just blows me away. Occasionally, though, it happens -- and these guys're one of the truly awesome few that've bowled me over. Bring Back The Guns (formerly known as Groceries, and before that known as Gandhi in Vegas, and known even for a really short while as "One Mighty Leg") are one of the coolest bands I've ever seen/heard, from Houston or otherwise.

They also happen to be an indie-rock band, which means that chances are they won't see major success while living here in H-town, even though they might well be the closest we've got to the Archers of Loaf, Spoon, or Pavement (the Houston Press Music Awards or two they've won(? been nominated for? can't remember...) can't hurt, tho'). Skewed, quirky, almost prog-rock-ish pop songs that're smart as hell and won't ever get played on the radio 'cause they're too weird, peppered with a self-deprecating sense of humor. All nice guys, too. They've garnered some controversy over the past few years, and singer/guitarist/ringleader Matt Brownlie has become almost as well-known for his confrontational stage "persona" as for the actual music. But hey, what's rock-n-roll without a little drama?

Either way, these guys have stuck it out a lot longer than I ever would've expected, and good for them, because they've remained a unique, uncompromising musical voice in this city. They've gone through a personnel change or two (their original bassist left to become an airline pilot, I'm told) and they've gotten increasingly complex with the songwriting, but it's still damn good. As one fellow Houston musician noted to me once about Brownlie, it's like he can write a brilliant, catchy, melodic pop song, but he knows he can, and since it doesn't challenge him, he goes instead for something more complex while still keeping things infectious and interesting. Every time I see them, it's impossible not to watch and smile, even if things go haywire (like they did at the '05 Press Music Awards festival, when the power blew halfway through their second(?) song).

The band's got an EP out as under the most recent of their old names Groceries, Knuckleheads & Icons, which is pretty darn good, and as of spring 2007 they've finally released their long-promised (as in, 2+ years long-promised) full-length, Dry Futures. And thankfully, it very much compensates for the lengthy wait, 'cause it's freakin' great. Beyond that, they've had two split-7"s that I know of, one with Drillbox Ignition and another with So Many Dynamos, and they've popped up on at least one compilation, the Demons & Rare Meat comp (Mission). They've also continued to play around town relentlessly and even charge out into the unknown to tour & make fans elsewhere, which is cool -- hopefully they won't go the way of so many other Houston bands, though, and skip town for more band-friendly climes... [8/4/2007]

BUXTON: Straight out of LaPorte, out in the Houston 'burbs, comes some of the coolest mostly-acoustic music you're likely to hear this side of Austin. Buxton are one of a small handful of indie-folk bands in town who've taken the current folk idiom and pulled it backwards to an earlier time, and they're one of the best around, for my money, in or out of Houston.

I wasn't sure at first what to make of 'em, I'll admit it, but after repeated listens to their latest album, A Family Light, I'm well and truly sold. The songs are warm and comfortable-sounding, even when they deal with the dark and depressing side(s) of love and family -- unlike a lot of folky stuff I've heard lately, music that sounds so stark and folkishly misanthropic as to be hard to grab onto, Buxton have a very "human" feel to 'em. And besides, the mandolin playing is absolutely jaw-dropping. (Seriously.) There's a hearty resemblance to Austinites Okkervil River, and I can't help but thinking of The Elected's Blake Sennett whenever I hear Sergio Trevino's half-broken vocals.

For one of the newer crop of local bands, they've actually got a fair catalog going already -- two full-lengths, the new one plus previous album Red Follows Red, as well as a given-away-only EP of otherwise unreleased stuff. And it sounds like they're working on more already, so keep listening. [2/3/2008]

BY THE END OF TONIGHTS: Against all odds, yes, this quartet from the rural down-home-iness of Alvin (just south of H-town) has turned into one of the city's few true indie success stories. They sent off their self-reeased A Letter to the Sandbox EP off to hipster-cred haven Temporary Residence Limited, and the label signed 'em on nearly immediately.

Since then, they've put out two more "band" EPs, Fireworks on Ice and A Tribute to Tigers, plus a set of four "solo" EPs, each by a different member of the band (The Gunslinger, the awesomely-named My Mom Caught Me In My Room Beat Boxin', He's Home With Bones That Grow The Way They're Supposed To, & The Imaginary). Oh, and there're also splits with fellow locals O Pioneers!!! & labelmates Tera Melos. phew. If that isn't enough, the band's reportedly currently working on a full-length -- after being awful quiet for nearly a year -- and guitarist Stefan Mach's now also doing a side project of sorts called Lisa's Sons, which I've heard is well worth checking out.

I have to admit that while I liked the band's recorded output, it wasn't 'til I finally saw 'em live that the band really, truly floored. The complex, constantly-shifting rhythms, genre-hopping guitars (thrash heaviness one second, gentle indie atmospherics the next), and pretty much totally vocal-less nature of the music can be rough through the headphones, but actually witnessing it unfolding, right there in front of you? Holy fucking hell, y'all. Guitarists Mach and Brett Taylor effortlessly riff like they just mainlined 20 years' worth of Guitar Player magazines, drummer Jeff Wilson (who may be leaving the band, I hear; the band's been auditioning replacements) beats the hell out of his minimal, stripped-down kit, and bassist James Templeton throws himself across the floor like he's engaged in a to-the-death cage match with his bass. All of a sudden, the stop-shift-slam time signatures make perfect fucking sense, the lack of lyrics doesn't matter a bit, and the band's collective genius becomes apparent. It's a wonder to behold. [7/13/2008]

TODY CASTILLO: Yep, another one I've been very, very remiss in listing. Actually, Tody was on this very page once, what seems like a really freakin' long time ago -- he fronted a band called Tody and the Royals, who put out one excellent, excellent tape (yep, I said "tape"; there was a time before cheap CD-Rs, kids) of burnished power-pop, played a ton of shows around town, and then just kinda disintegrated. Which was a shame, because I caught their show several times, and they were pretty uniformly great.

I'm sad to say that I've got no clue what happened to Tody for a few years after that -- he might've left town, for all I know (many do). In 2005, though, he near-miraculously popped back up in the music scene, seemingly effortlessly throwing his self-titled solo debut CD out into the fray. And holy shit, is it good. The songs hark back to the Royals' infectious power-pop, but they've got a more sleek, practiced feel to 'em, almost akin to fellow H-towner Arthur Yoria's awesome work. I can't speak for everybody, but the songs burrowed into my brain, seriously, deep enough that two years later I find myself humming bits and pieces of different tracks. Not a bad thing, mind you.

He's technically a solo guy, as noted above, but for the album he surrounded himself with some talented folks -- songstress Cameron Dezen contributes keys and backing vocals, now-ex-Houstonian Mando Saenz contributes vocals, and veterans Paul "The Falcon" Valdez and Ryan Biddle show up all over the place (unless I'm really mistaken, by the by, Valdez was also a Royal; not sure 'bout the rest, though). The result is one damn fine disc.

And luckily, it finally looks like Tody's got a followup on the way. Per his MySpace, he & his crew are partway through recording the new album, with the recording part of things done in September of 2007; no clue when it'll be all done and released, but I hope it's at least relatively soon... [8/6/2007]

THE CHURCH OF PHILADELPHIA: Yes, it may be somewhat hard to believe, but there's finally a gospel (well, sorta) band in town that appeals even to a heathen like yours truly. And really, it makes sense if you look at these folks' combined pedigrees -- they've apparently got a ton of experience under their belts individually (at least one member of the band's played the Grand Ole Opry, although I'm not sure which one), and it shows.

The music they make is simultaneously tender and awe-inspiring, like Bruce Springsteen fronting the coolest indie-folk/rock band you've never heard of. The songs start off ridiculously basic, with just an organ melody or drumbeat, but steadily build to a wide-eyed rock roar that makes me, at least, grin like an idiot every time I see/hear the band. Gentle piano/keys, atmospheric strings, Eric Bachmann-esque vocals, gorgeous harmonies, and Arcade Fire-style crescendoes, all put together into one beautifully compelling whole. The Church has one self-released disc out so far, and it's a beautifully-done album, right down to the CD artwork, and their live shows are even more impressive, with band members effortlessly switching instruments and playing like they've never done anything else in their lives.

Apparently the band used to be a tad bit bigger -- the Church's bio says they once counted 15 different members -- but since starting back in 2002, they've whittled things down a bit to six: Joey Mathews, Sharla Mathews, Chris McFarland, Lindsey Crouse, & brothers Brian Tharpe and Aaron Tharpe. I tried briefly to list who plays what, but like I said, they tend to swap 'em out pretty regularly, so I kinda gave it up... I believe all the band members are from The Woodlands/Kingwood area, by the way, although they've happily been playing down in town quite a bit lately.

And finally, yeah, they're a Christian band. And yeah, the songs kinda do talk about God & such. But y'know what? It still works, even for an infidel like me. Whatever these folks believe, the music they play is joyful and sweet and honest, and that's cool by me under pretty much any circumstances. [8/4/2007]

CLOUSEAUX: Hot damn, these guys (and girls, too) are good. I never thought I'd say it, but one of my favorite CDs of the past year or so, it turns out, is a blend of cosmopolitan lounge-pop and surfy-sounding "exotica" that sounds like the soundtrack to a freaky B-movie where people shipwrecked on a desert isle have to fight the cannibalistic natives...and then win their trust and hang out sipping cocktails and dancing the tropical night away.

I'm talking about Lagoon!, the latest from local tiki-lounge empresarios Clouseaux. The band's practically a "who's who" of local rock, funk, and jazz bands, featuring (at various times) ex- and current members of The Suspects, Middlefinger, The Magnetic IV, Three Fantastic, Janitor, Secret Agent 8, The Plus & Minus Show, and Zombilly, but somehow all those influences got set aside to make some of the coolest, most laid-back, swankiest island instrumental music I've ever heard. I've only heard bits and pieces of their previous EP, Destination Oasis, and none at all of their self-titled debut, but Lagoon! is freakin' incredible. Absolutely perfect for lounging around out by the pool on a warm summer's day (even if your pool, like mine, is of the somewhat-worse-for-wear aboveground variety). Plus, the band's darn good live -- I've seen 'em once or twice now, and they're pretty impressive. Go check 'em out... [1/26/05]

CO-PILOT: I've been very remiss in putting these guys up here, especially since I've had a handful of their songs on my iPod for, what?, a year now? (Guys, are you ever going to put up any new tracks on the MySpace page? Please? I know they were promised at the end of Feb., but I sure haven't seen anything new...) Plus, they've got a fine H-town rock pedigree, with at least one (possibly two) ex-member(s) of one of my favorite local indie-rock bands of all time, Scooter. What the hell -- I like the songs and the people involved, and yet, I haven't gotten off my ass and made 'em a Featured Band? Yep; I've been a bad, bad, lazy person.

In my defense, I'd kinda been holding my breath/crossing my fingers for the band's first actual release -- to my knowledge, the only songs they've got out so far are the three up here, so I figured rather than put 'em in the list on the strength of those three tracks, I'd wait for a full-length (or at least an EP). Over time, however, those three tracks have worn me down, dammit. I give!

At any rate, Co-Pilot have kind of fallen in with the little nu-spacerock scene that's been going on here for a while now, alongside bands like Storms Threaten to Destroy and Antarctica Starts Here, and I have to say that I love the fact that there's a whole crew of like-minded folks doing this kind of thing in our fair city. The music bridges the gap between MBV-style fuzz and Explosions in the Sky-style distant space-instro-country (with a bit of Denton spacerockers The Secret Machines thrown in, to boot) -- we're talking roaring-yet-gorgeous guitars, head-nodding, heartbeat-steady rhythms, soaring, melancholy melodies, and the occasional gentle, Seam-esque vocal.

I haven't yet caught these folks live (I've been hoping to, but now they're apparently headed off to tour Canada and party like rockstars), but damn, the music's impressive. Check out the MySpace tracks if you get a chance -- "Low Earth Orbit" kills me every time, and "Elysian Fields" is freakin' majestic as hell, as well -- or, better yet, go see 'em play live. And again: guys, please record/put up some more stuff soon? [5/9/2007]

DEVIN THE DUDE: Who would've guessed you could build a whole damn career rapping about weed? I've got to give it to H-town MC Devin "The Dude" Copeland, though -- he's definitely got his subject matter down. Of all the tracks I've heard, only a handful have anything to do with something other than herb, and most of those're tried-and-true topics like sex, women, and getting drunk. The funny thing is that what I think I like the most about the Dude is that he's not trying to throw up some kind of "hard" gangsta persona, not bragging about how he owns the streets or how he's willing to kill somebody just for looking at him funny. Devin's just a guy who likes to sit around and get high with his friends, cruise the H-town streets in his Caddy, and rhyme/sing over deep, laid-back, Blaxploitation-style beats. No gangster theatrics, just reality, and that's a nice change from the usual guns-and-drugs hustler bullshit. To me, this is a lot more of a down-to-earth picture of life in the sprawling metropolitan hell we all call home than a lot of what's out there.

The other good thing about Devin -- and I've kinda already hit on it -- is that he can sing. The guy's got a good voice, and when he croons, it's got that old-school soul feel to it. Hell, even when he raps, it sounds better than a lot of his contemporaries; not only can he actually flow, his voice doesn't grate like some people's (not naming names, mind you), and the lyrics are thoughtful and intelligent...yes, even if all he's singing about is his love for marijuana. Of course, then there's the humor; some of the tracks are just damn funny, even when they border on disturbing or have a dark undertone to 'em.

I'm kind of annoyed at myself for not listening to this guy sooner, by the way, especially since he's on a freakin' major label, Virgin Records. He's got four albums out -- his self-titled debut, 2002's Just Tryin' ta Live, a remix album for Live called Chopped Up, and '04's To Tha X-Treme -- and everything I've heard off 'em is gold, a wakeup call that there's more to the H-town hip-hop scene than gangstas and cough syrup... [8/1/06]

CAMERON DEZEN: First off, I should say that I'm not generally a fan of female singer/songwriters. I don't know why, really; maybe it's because the majority that I've heard seem to be either too saccharine-sweet or overly arty, one or the other. I've got a couple of friends who're crazy about nearly every female pop/rock/alt-country star out there, and a lot of the time, I just don't get it. It all just seems to blend together, to me, into a big mess of same-sounding voices and guitars. If all the Avril Lavignes and Jewels of the world disappeared tomorrow, I wouldn't miss 'em one bit.

Cameron Dezen, on the other hand, is something special. She can fall into that too-sweet trap, it's true (my wife told me at one point that while she liked it, it was almost like listening to Christian rock), but she's got such a clear, pure-as-a-bell voice that I find myself not even caring. I honestly haven't been affected like this by too many singers, male or female -- at the risk of upping the shmaltz level to "Corny," I'd almost say that her voice makes my heart hurt. It's weird, but in a good way. "Waiting (The Promise)," the first track on her second album, Love + Rescue -- she's got an earlier one called Mary's Daughter, but I haven't heard it -- swoops and soars gracefully and poignantly, without any of the standard tricks and frills all those "divas" use to make themselves sound like real singers. This is the real thing, right here. Heck, she could be a soloist in a church choir (and maybe she is, for all I know), just going by the simple, clean way she sings.

Anyway, Ms. Dezen's apparently a NYC native (if the last name sounds familiar, that's because her brother Alexis is the lead singer of NY rockers The Damnwells), but she moved down here a few years back to get hitched to local producer/musician guy Matt Hammon, who these days plays solo and backs his wife on guitar. He's also responsible, I think (along with L.A.-based producer David Rice, who I think I used to see at shows here in H-town...), for the little electronic touches scattered throughout the record. No Cher-wannabe morphing vocals, don't worry (at least, not as far as I can tell), just some drum loops and such...

After hearing the CD, I was a little nervous about seeing Dezen live, figuring that there was no way the performance could match up to the recorded stuff -- it's a lot easier, after all, to sing like an angel when you can do a hundred-plus takes 'til you get it right. Thankfully, I was totally wrong, and Cameron Dezen live was absolutely as mesmerizing as on my car stereo. Go see this lady when you can, seriously. [11/16/05]

THE FATAL FLYING GUILLOTEENS: Seen these guys a few times now, and each time they impress me more and more. First and foremost, well, they're absolutely insane, and ear-destruction-level loud. They play Estrus-style garage rock/pop, really, all the while dressed up in silly outfits (they used to wear cowboy outfits, but I'm told they've set that aside recently; they've also been known to wear tuxes and masks). Not wonderful technically, necessarily, but energetic, raw, and aggressive as fuck -- co-vocalist Shawn Guilloteen thrashes around like a cross between Jon Spencer and spastic ex-Teen Titan Philip Niemeyer, and it's amazing to see. They've also gained a bit of a reputation for being kinda hard to play with -- for a while there, at least, they had a feud going with Austin's Kiss-Offs, they've been involved in all kinds of fights with other bands, and there's a much-inflated story that they started a riot at the closing of the Austin club the Bates Motel (they claim it's not entirely true, apparently, but hey...). Either way, I think it's pretty entertaining, as wild band antics go (and yeah, I'm a sick bastard). It's funny, 'cause without the masks they're the absolute nicest guys, I swear...

Their first release was a very lo-fi self-made tape (it's not bad, for sounding like it was recorded in somebody's car, mind you), on Grey Ghost, which they followed with three great 7"s -- one on Twistworthy, one on Peek-a-Boo (both Austin labels), and one on garage-rock heaven label Estrus, Ask Marie Antoinette. Cool stuff, and they've only gone up from there, releasing an incredible first full-length CD on Estrus a few years back (The Now Sound for New Diaboliks) and then cranking out a second, Get Knifed, in the spring of 2003. The album sort of moved away from the countrified stuff and towards a more Drive Like Jehu, Sweep The Leg Johnny sort of sound.

As of 2007, they've got a new new album, too, Quantum Fucking, out on Frenchkiss Recs, and it picks up where Get Knifed left off, only honing the "new" sound (which is equal parts Frodus, Fugazi, Drive Like Jehu, Polvo, Rapture, & Barkmarket, but crazier than all combined) to absolute damn perfection. "Reveal The Rats" has already pretty much subsumed most of the band's back catalog as the quintessentials Guilloteens song...

The stylistic change makes some sense, by the way, because the band had broken up for a while there (for a while there, they seemed to do it every few months, just to screw with their fans), seemingly for good, and then spontaneously reincarnated with a little bit of a line-up switch. Former drummer Mike now sings, alongside almost-former singer Shawn Guilloteen (who quit the band but had a change of heart), and former Port Vale drummer John Adams (er, Guilloteen) has now taken over on drums. Oh, and after trying the commuting thing for a while from his new home in Philly, founding member Brian McManus has left the band, supposedly for good. These days Erik Bogle of Bring Back the Guns does the guitar thing -- haven't seen the Guilloteens minus Brian yet, but I caught 'em with Mike on vocals a while back, and yes, the new incarnation still rocks ass.

These guys have all had their "side projects," by the way -- at least one of the members of the band was also in Houston hardcore "supergroup" Gun for a while, bassist Roy Guilloteen fronts a "metal" band called Defend the Ghetto, and guitarist Brian Guilloteen used to do both this deal with a guitar & a drum machine that he called The Fearsome Twosome (which has to be seen to be believed) and a crazed neo-soul thing where he called himself Filthy McNasty, which was kinda like Har Mar Superstar on crack.

Anyway, go see 'em if you get a chance -- it's quite a show. [2/3/2008]

THE FLAMIN' HELLCATS: Well, I thought these guys were pretty much toast, and had put 'em in the Band Graveyard, but it turns out that not only are they still together, but they released a new CD, Goin' to Your House, with all new stuff on it, and they even had a song on the soundtrack to that "Dawson's Creek" guy's movie, Varsity Blues. Not bad for a band I thought had called it quits...sigh. Anyway, here's the deal: loud, punkish "vato-billy," played by three really big, scary Hispanic guys with lots of tattoos and enough hair goop to grease a kitchen full of pans. These guys have the frightening, nasty side of rockabilly down (you know, like Elvis used to be before he got "nice"?). The first time I ever saw 'em play was at a PN Awards Showcase many years back at Emo's, and when they finished their set they promptly went outside, got in a fight, and got arrested. Damn. If that ain't rockabilly, I don't know what is. When I've seen them in the past, they've been pretty mesmerizing live, catapulting themselves all over the stage and playing with wild, reckless energy -- a band you really have to see to get; although if you couldn't, you can hear them on one of their albums, either the new one or their apparently hard-to-find debut Speedfreak, as well as the Pinche Flojo comp Scene? What Scene?. Laurence, their bassist, has also played with a few other bands, including the Jack-Onz and Donkey Punch... [8/29/2000]

FREEDOM $OLD: Houston's got a rap scene a mile deep, but you might not know it from the major media (outside of the Houston Press, who these days do a ridiculously good job of covering it) or the indie-rockin' bars inside the loop. And hey, I'm no more knowledgeable about it than most -- on the rare occasions when I do happen to hear a local hip-hop act, it's usually something pretty bizarre, something that might be be accepted by your average beathead.

Freedom Sold is that kind of band -- they're hip-hop in style, but they're fiercely political and big into the indie-rock world, and their sound probably isn't going to get them on the pages of hip-hop magazines anytime soon. I haven't caught 'em lately, but the basic setup the last time was that Kwamé would be out front making lots of feedback-y noise with his guitar and kicking the rhymes while his partner Art scratches and DJs behind him. It seems to be pretty improvisational, but it works really well -- the description I've heard a few times is "Sonic Youth meets Public Enemy," and that might not be far off...

They've got two albums out already, the vinyl-only Whores EP (which I've never been able to find, mostly because I, uh, didn't realize it was vinyl-only 'til recently...they're planning to rerelease it on CD soon) and the more recent Ten Years - Four Walls, which the duo released both on CD and as a double-LP. phew. Freedom Sold are working on a new album right now, to be released this year, so keep an eye out for it, 'cause it's bound to be good. [11/9/2005]

GEORGIA'S HORSE: I'm breathing a sigh of relief on this one; when I finally downloaded a track or two from the band's MySpace site, I was utterly bowled over...only to discover that they'd broken up not long before. Ah, crap... Luckily for me, they appear to once again be back together, which is very cool, because otherwise yours truly would've never gotten the chance to see one of the best damn bands out there right now.

Despite my Texan-ness (okay, so I was born outside Seattle; I've lived in Texas longer than the President has, so if he counts, so do I), I've never really taken to most of the country-ish bands doing their thing around this city. It's sad, I know, but I grew up with country and have hated it, more or less, ever since. We've all got our crosses to bear, folks... With Georgia's Horse, though, us Houstonians have been blessed with the kind of "country" (uh, kinda) that I happen to enjoy the hell out of. This band (which is basically a lady named Teresa, it seems) is no bunch of Brooks & Dunn wannabes, but rather aim for the folky, delicate, melancholy side of the country spectrum. The music's often minimal and bleakly sad, with somber, low-key guitars and cello swaying and drifting along in the background while Teresa (sorry, Melly was apparently the cello player) manages to cover the middle ground between Lucinda Williams and Cat Power's Chan Marshall (with a little Hem thrown in).

The closest analogue I've come across is probably The Last Town Chorus, but that probably isn't going to mean much to you (although it should; they're very cool in their own right), so just skip my pathetic attempts at describing 'em and listen to the songs up on their MySpace page. This is country that walks barefoot down the backroads at midnight with a bottle of bad whiskey and a hellhound on its trail, like a Cormac McCarthy book come to life.

Never having been able to track down an actual hard-copy release, I've been (and still am, somewhat) confused as to what all's out, but there's at least one Georgia's Horse full-length out, 2007's Mammoth, and another, Weather Codes, is on the way now. The new stuff's a bit different from previous GH stuff, I have to say -- it's a little spookier, a little more ambient, and even more somber, if that's possible, than before. Listening to it, I can't help but think of Beth Gibbons' Out of Season album with Rustin' Man; it's that bleakly alluring. And best news of all? Georgia's Horse is actually playing again. Holy crap...I sure hope Teresa keeps at it. [7/13/2008]

THE GOLD SOUNDS: These three guys came out of nowhere, both with respect to yours truly and actual geography -- they're right out of Deer Park, on the edge of the ever-scenic Houston Ship Channel, and the first I heard of 'em besides their name came in the form of a self-released CDEP and DVD they sent in, packaged with mugshot-like photos and a poster, besides. I was bowled over the minute I slapped the EP into the car's CD player.

At their heart, they're a garage-rock band, I think, but there's a lot else going on on top of that. Chris Fuentes's guitars roar and blaze, sounding nicely thick and meaty while throwing in cool little bits of melody, Dee Donnelly's drums pound and push things along, and brother vocalist/bassist Sean Donnelly puts all those post-Strokes "garage" bands to shame. More than anything else, they remind me of the Kings of Leon, partly because of the way they seem to effortlessly jump between bare-shirted rawk and trippy neo-psychedelia and partly because of the country tinge that hangs around the whole thing.

Unfortunately, they've only got the one 5-song self-titled, self-released EP out right now, but it's pretty great (esp. opener "Blow My Soul to the Floor" and the aptly-titled "College Radio," which has its hooks deep, deep in my brain). They've been playing out quite a bit lately, though, so here's hoping there's more to come from these guys. [2/3/2008]

THE HANDSOMES: Y'know, I hate to say it, but I wasn't expecting much from these guys when I first saw 'em. I walked into a club packed wall-to-wall with over-dyed bimbos and beefy guys who looked like they were trying really hard to ignore the fact that they were edging into middle age, saw four clean-cut guys getting up on the stage, and groaned: "Oh, great -- another fratboy rock band..."

Then they started playing. I was still skeptical at first, not sure what the hell was going on, but as the Handsomes ripped through three or four funky, soulful jams without breaking a sweat, it started to dawn on me: these guys are really fucking good. I mean, really. The singer (Jordon Blackwell) danced like a maniac and made it look somehow cool, the blond guy on the guitar (David Nachtigall) could play a hell of a lot better than any guitarist I've seen in a long time, and..."hey, don't I know that big guy playing drums from somewhere? He looks really familiar -- and come to think of it, so does the singer. Weird..." The next song in, and the singer blazed without missing a beat into the most spot-on Jamaican dancehall toasting I've ever heard (well, outside of actual Jamaican dancehall artists, anyway); it was incredible. My jaw hit the floor, and right then I realized who these guys (three of the four of 'em, anyway) were.

Yep, apparently I'm the last to know that way-back-when Houstonian ska heroes The Mod Squad have staggered somewhat back to life. That's why Blackwell's wild stage antics seemed so familiar -- I'd seen he, Nachtigall, and drummer Patrick Kelly play many times back in the day (bassist Ben Stark was in other bands back then, apparently, but I'm not sure which ones), both with the still-in-college Mod Squad and Blackwell and Nachtigall's successor band, Half Loaded (I never got to see Kelly's, Sound Patrol). Once Half Loaded and Sound Patrol faded into the mists of Houston music history, I pretty much forgot about 'em, figuring they were doing that thing nearly every H-town band does and moving on with their "real" lives. And really, ten years or so on, that's exactly what they've done. They're all teachers or lawyers-in-training these days and they got back on stage pretty much on a whim.

And man, have they grown up in the process. The old bands were always fun -- and pretty good, besides -- but the Handsomes as a band blows 'em out of the water. Not strictly ska, they incorporate some elements of that with a shitload of urban-sounding funk (think Stevie Wonder or Sly & the Family Stone), reggae rhythms, honey-sweet vocals, and addictive pop melodies, and the result's impressive. It reminds me at times of long-gone Houstonian funksters Venus in Furs, who took a similar melting-pot approach to their music but also of people like Fishbone, Jamiroquai, and (probably more than anything else) Maroon 5. (And lest anybody think the latter comparison's a slam: yes, I like Maroon 5 a heck of a lot.)

I hear the band's got a six-song EP out these days, but sadly, I haven't heard it yet -- I've had to make do with the sample tracks they've got up online. Even still, the recorded stuff can't compare with the live experience. Go see these guys, seriously, while you can (maybe) still get in the door... [11/9/2005]

HEARTS OF ANIMALS: With Hearts of Animals, singer/songwriter Mlee Marie Suprean has managed to create something very cool and unique, at least within our insular little Houston scene. I mean, we've got a metric ton of folkies with guitars, enough to re-populate Lilith Fair several times over, but Suprean's thrown the whole idea on its head by incorporating huge-ass washes of distortion, weird electronic beats, and electronic vocal effects, and the result is pretty impressive.

To me, at least, the sound brings to mind vintage dreampop, particularly My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus & Mary Chain, but with Suprean's quirky, Eisley-esque vocals floating over the top. And it works very well; I've enjoyed the heck out of songs like "Hearts Break" and "Stars Say No," both live and on the HoA Myspace page.

Unfortunately, I haven't yet been able to snag an actual Hearts of Animals release -- she's apparently sold a handful of her Lemming Baby CD-R EPs over the past year or so, but hasn't had any lately, which sucks for folks like me who'd really like to be able to hear more. On the positive side, Suprean's supposedly got a "real" release coming out very, very soon (as in January of 2008), an actual 7" on Dull Knife Recs; I'm going to do my damnedest to get a hold of a copy as soon as I can.

In the meantime, hey, at least you can check Suprean's music out live pretty easily; she seems to be playing almost every weekend in one band or another. Besides Hearts of Animals, she also plays in The Wols, Oculous Sinister, her own Mlee Marie acoustic thing, and yes, a death-metal project called VAARG. (No, seriously.) Taken all together, Suprean's got to be one of the busiest scenesters we've got at the moment. [12/17/2007]

JANA HUNTER: Yes, Matty & Mossy is unfortunately dead and gone, its members scattered to the four winds, but thankfully, vocalist/guitarist Jana Hunter is still making music, now out on her lonesome. These days it's just her, a guitar, and a Mini-Disc full of backing tracks -- it doesn't sound like it'd be real impressive, maybe, but it's absolutely mind-blowing. The songs are as creepy and kind-of-sort-of menacing as M&M's could be, but Hunter's expanded her musical palette somewhat, breaking out of the prog-blues-rock of her old band and dabbling with electronics and even pretty pop. The voice, of course, is still the same, and that's what really makes the whole thing work -- on top of some amazing songwriting, she does the most incredible impersonation of a down-on-her-luck '40s blues diva trapped in the body of a shy, kinda geeky girl. Hunter looks a little strange sometimes up there on stage, but as soon as she opens her mouth, everybody in the room is absolutely transfixed. I swear, she's got that crazy Chan Marshall/Beth Gibbons magnetism...come to think of it, Beth Gibbons' own recent post-Portishead effort, Out Of Season, is probably the closest thing to Jana Hunter's solo stuff.

Happily, she's also got a ton of releases under her belt now, including a split with the equally weird Devendra Banhart on Troubleman Recs, appearances on a couple of compilations (The Golden Apples of the Sun, on Bastet, The Enlightened Family, on Voodoo, and The Black and White Skins, on French label Les Disques Du Crepuscule), two stellar full-lengths, 2005's Blank Unstaring Heirs of Doom and 2007's There's No Home, and her most recent, an odds-and-ends EP entitled Carrion. I've only heard snippets of each, but those've come surprisingly close to Hunter's live shows, and that's a very good thing, trust me. Oh, and she also sometimes does the band thing with a little group called Jracula, about which I've heard much goodness...

Jana's a bit of a nomad, unfortunately -- after Matty & Mossy disintegrated, she headed home to Georgia for a few years (boo!), then came back to Houston (yay!), then bopped on up north to the Big Apple for a while (boo!), then came back to Houston again (yay!), and has once again skipped town, reportedly, this time heading for the ultra-hip Baltimore, MD, scene. Crap. Can't begrudge her the success, though, and we here at SCR wish her all the best -- and who knows, she might be back soon. Can't escape the Black Hole of H-town, Jana, no matter how hard you try... [10/2/07]

I-45: Yeah, yeah, I should've put these guys up here long ago...oh, well -- they're up here now, alright? Anyway, the mysterious duo/trio known as I-45 (Tripp Von Slipp, Tech Ron B., aka Techronious, and either DJ Rudy Martinez 2000 in the early days or DJ Destro more recently) happen to be one of the few local (well, sorta-local; see below) rap bands I've actually seen/heard, and damn, they kick some phat lyrics. They call themselves "slip-hop," but really, it's pretty much just some silly-ass old school-style rhymes & shit -- the easiest comparison, really, is prob'ly early B-Boys, just without the punk stuff, and with a little bit of a Southern flava to it...

My first introduction to the band was the Broken Note Records comp., Noncompliance (Broken Note head guy Crazy Tony Avita is one of the members of I-45, by the way, under the sneaky pseudonym Tech Ron B., I believe), with the classic "The Bike Song (Courier Tales)," and even now, it's one of my absolute favorite songs on there. They've also contributed tracks to pretty much every one of Broken Note's No Approval Needed comps, as well as Chicken Ranch Records' Chicken Ranch Roundup Vol. 3 and the Noise. Kills Punk Dead comp on USSA Records. Broken Note put out 3 releases, including the debut 7" (a split deal with PA's Wolfpac) entitled The Outlaws of Rap, which is damn fucking cool, their first full-length, The Regal Beagle (which is also pretty darn neato), and the followup album, Lost Between The Lines.

After that, though, the guys moved out west to Cali and took a bit of a "break," supposedly partly to server some jail time (not sure who/why). They also hooked up with Aboveground Records (sadly, it looks like Broken Note's gone the way of the dodo) and recorded & put out 2006's The Adventures of Buckwild and Skinny Foot. Haven't heard much by 'em lately, but the newer tracks on the Myspace page sound pretty damn good; nice, harsh, almost grime-y sound.

Around the time that the third album was released, the band kinda had a homecoming here in H-town, splitting their time between Texas & CA. Sadly, back in May of 2007 Avitia/Techronious broke the news that he'd be leaving the band to focus on actual "life" stuff like getting a college degree & so on. No idea if that means I-45 is dead and gone or if Tripp and DJ Destro are gonna continue on their own, but I'll leave the writeup up here for a while, just in case they keep moving... [10/2/07]

THE I*GENTS: Okay, so this one's been out-of-date for a while, unfortunately... The story starts back in the day with a band of ska kids from Texas City called Secret Agent 8. I first saw 'em at the 2nd Annual Zippfest (can't even remember what year that was, now), and even then I was impressed, but...well, I just thought they needed some time, y'know? And despite the crash-and-burn of most of the ska bands around town, when it seemed like every other promising ska band in town fell off the planet (Supermarket All-Stars, Half Loaded, etc.), SA8 kept on chugging for several years, growing beyond the standard ska-punk they started with into some really sophisticated, jazzy swing-ska. (And they dropped the suits, apparently, which was kind of a relief.)

Flash-forward to 2007, and Secret Agent 8 as we knew it is no more. A couple of the guys in the band, keys-man Ryan Scroggins and drummer Pat "Beans" Wheeler, headed off to join Los Skarnales for a while before that band imploded (and have since formed their own very, very cool ska band, Ryan Scroggins and the Trenchtown Texans), but bassist Adam Castaneda and guitarists Zack Cayton, and Kenny Dickman soldiered on. The three of 'em met up with Chris Kendrick, the original singer for local ska legends The Suspects (remember them?), and together they decided to drop the SA8 name and go with the I*GENTS, instead, as well as shift to a more rocksteady kind of sound. They recruited drummer Pat Kelly (ex-Half Loaded/Sound Patrol/etc., currently also in The Handsomes) & keyboardist Matt Silverman to play with 'em, and they've been cruising along nicely ever since.

At any rate, they've put out a few things in both incarnations of the band. As Secret Agent 8, they put out an excellent little full-length (the title of which escapes me, sorry...) and popped up on a couple of comps, notable Stub Daddy Recs' Potluck and Pinche Flojo's Texas Ska Volume 1; as the I*GENTS, they've got a new split EP out with The Stingers called Rude Roots -- haven't heard it yet, but I'm betting it's good (oh, and you can currently only get it at shows, sorry)... [10/3/2007]

INDIAN JEWELRY: I'll be as up-front as I can as to the reason why I've neglected to put Indian Jewelry, or Swarm of Angels, or NTX + Electric, or NTX + Erika Thrasher, or Nikki Texas up here: I have no freakin' idea how to describe 'em. All these bands (they've also gone by the names Corpses of Waco, Turquoise Diamonds, or The Perpetual War Party Band, apparently) are basically the same free-flowing crew of people, as far as I can tell -- the whole mess is headed up by ex-Japanic frontman Tex Kerschen, and he and vocalist/guitarist/synth player Erika Thrasher seem to be pretty much the only uniting threads throughout.

So, since I'm finally writing this, that must mean I've come up with a way to talk about IJ/etc.'s music, right? Um, not really. The best I can do is describe it as a mess of feedback noise, bizarre synths, dark, threatening atmosphere a la Motherhead Bug, Suicide-/VU-esque "detached" vocals, and sharp-edged guitars. What it is, really, is the creepiest, most unsettling dance music (yes, dance music) you'll ever run across. Take one listen to this crew's debut CD (as NTX + Electric, pre- the change to Indian Jewelry), We Are The Wild Beast, if you don't believe me -- it's dark, disturbing, possibly even headache-inducing, and still frighteningly rhythmic. It makes me think, actually, of the cooler end of the more bizarre stuff I used to hear (and play) back when I was a KTRU DJ, during the station's infamous "Noise Period." There're bits of Skinny Puppy-type industrial noise floating around in there, tribal-sounding drumming, some broken David Bowie glam-rock, oddly understated Morphine-ish saxophones, and yes, even some truly beautiful rock moments ("Looking At You," for one).

If the above doesn't sound appealing to you, well, that's your call. I'm not generally a fan of weirdness for weirdness' sake, though, and I can't help but find the Indian Jewelry somehow fascinating. It's weird, yes, but it almost feels like it's weird with a plan, which makes it a hell of a lot cooler. They've got a bunch of stuff out, primarily on their own GirlGang Records and Tapes, including a split 7" with The Sugarbeats, another all-them 7" called in love with loving, their latest full-length CD release, Invasive Exotics (released on Monitor Recs, actually), the Swarm of Angels Plessure EP, the NTX CDEP Lil Electrodes, two NTX/Erika Thrasher 7"s, and a new CD-R compilation that collects all of the "old" stuff in one place as Sangles Redux. And, uh, there might be more stuff I don't know about -- with all the names, it's a little hard to keep track, y'know? At any rate, buy whatever you can of it, listen to it, and check 'em out live when you get a chance.

Tex and Erika moved out for a year or three to the Hell-A area, by the by, splitting their time between here & there, but we just got word that they're now officially back in town, ditching the grimy shine of Cali for, uh, the plain-ol' grime of H-town. Good to have y'all back. [5/22/2007]

THE JONBENÉT: Okay. I get it now. It's taken me a while, admittedly -- I first had these guys pegged as just another spazzcore band with a weird, kinda morbid name and who wasn't good for much beyond giving me a headache. I've got a low, low, low tolerance for stuff like Dillinger Escape Plan or Converge, and these guys hail from the same dark, violent corner of the musical forest, so my expectations were pretty much set. I mean, seriously, I've got enough during my day to make my head hurt, right?

Over the past year or so (and with much prodding from other folks), though, and after repeated listenings, I've come to my senses and gotten past the initial misgivings to realize, "holy shit, these guys are really freakin' good." Sure, The JonBenét is pretty headache-inducing, but fuck that; they're also brilliantly complex, raw, and ferocious, combining sneering/yelping vocals (for the most part) with scraping, grinding guitars and a rhythm section that's absolutely fearless and unrelenting. The guitars saw back and forth, the drums hammer, the bass churns, and vocalist Michael Murland howls like a man being torn apart (tastefully) by wild boars.

Best of all, each time the chaos threatens to explode out of control -- as it does pretty much throughout The JonBenét's two albums so far, 2005's The Plot Thickens and 2006's Ugly/Heartless (nope, can't say they're misrepresenting themselves, at least...) -- the band reins it all in and sends it in a new direction. And they do it without sounding like they're just patching different styles together willy-nilly; it all flows beautifully, like all crushing, sludgy metalcore breaks are obviously meant to segue neatly to quieter bits with almost-pretty vocals. (Don't believe the allmusic writeup, by the way -- "[noisy] indie rock/grunge revivalists"? On what fucking planet? If these guys are "reviving" grunge, they're apparently doing it using an electric chair and a lot of voodoo.)

And as for the name and the attendant controversy/righteous outrage, hey, so what? This is Houston, home of the dirty, nasty, and hypocritically depraved; we've got megachurches and gigantic strip clubs, sometimes in the same square mile. We have a long and glorious history of bands who mine the sicker side of our cultural swamp, and honestly, I could give a crap what these guys called themselves, so long as they keep making music this good. [3/17/2007]

THE JONX: My, how they've grown... I've been a fan of The Jonx for a few years now, from back when the band was a member or two larger than it is now (ex-Jonxers Shawn Durrani and Viki Kenner have moved on to other things), and heck, I remember guitarist Stu Smith from back in both our college days; even back then, he was making some quirky, entertaining music.

These days, though, they've evolved from humble beginnings as a handful of like-minded music-making friends into a band that's honestly one of the best musical acts going in Houston today (and no, I don't say that lightly). Over the course of their past several releases -- 2003's debut self-titled EP, the next year's The Wrath of Shawn EP, full-length The Return of the Death of the Legacy of the Revenge of the Jonx, and 2006's No Turn Jonx Red -- they've evolved into a band that's insanely tight, pounding out their ferocious brand of post-punk rock with machinelike precision.

There're elements of Fugazi, June of 44, The Vehicle Birth, or NoMeansNo all thrown in, but at the end of the day, the Jonx put it together to make something that's damned original. Listening to the band's albums makes me think of my days back at KTRU, combing through all those old punk albums my poor small-town Texas ass missed out on back in the day; every song's a freakin' floor-stomping anthem to postmodern disaffection.

Best of all, they manage to do the art-rock thing without coming off like high-minded snobs; the Jonx are smart as hell, certainly, and they come up with some challenging, complex, noisy bits, to be sure, but they do it all while remaining, well, basically pretty normal guys who like to have fun and play loud rock music. The closest analogue I can think of, really, is the Minutemen, who also happened to pull off some truly weird, groundbreaking shit in the realm of rock despite being a trio of kids from a little nowhere town in California.

It helps that the three guys in the band, guitarist Stu, drummer Danny Mee (who, yes, also happens to be a talented writer in his own right and who sometimes writes for this here e-zine), and bassist Trey Lavigne -- everybody sings at one point or another -- never seem to take themselves too seriously. On songs like "Cashews" (where Mee channels Lavigne and proclaims that he has a job that pays him in cashews, among other things) and "I Party To Celebrate Friendship," for two, the Jonxers poke fun at themselves (and everybody else), which is a good thing, because post-punk in general can get awful dour and too-serious at times.

So, there you go. The Jonx may not be everybody's cup of tea, no, but dammit, they should be, if there's any justice in the world. Go see 'em -- and while you're at it, cross yr fingers that they stick around this oftentimes soul-sucking, talent-devouring city we live in for a while longer, at least... [9/28/2007]

THE LAST PLACE YOU LOOK: It's funny, but I looking back I can say with certainty that I never would've predicted where these guys ended up. Long, long ago, guitarist Richard Sherwood and vocalist Jusin Nava used to be in a very cool, awesomely promising funk-rock band called Six West, who I caught & was blown away by at Robb Zipp's long-gone GobbleStock festival.

The band imploded, as bands here tend to do, but Nava & Sherwood (and maybe one of the other members, too; not sure, sorry) moved on to the last place you look, doing a 180 from the funk stuff and diving headlong into thundering, raw-throated, guitar-heavy screamo.

And at first, I'll admit, I wasn't that into it. 2005's The Lies We Tell Ourselves is/was decent but not great, with Nava going way too much of the throat-shredding stuff for my tastes and the songs all given snarky, post-ironic indie titles (like "How Do You Say Fuck Off in Russian"). The band's 2009 followup full-length, See the Light Inside You, though, left me stunned, mouth open wide and brain trying to comprehend what just happened. Seriously, it immediately made my list of top albums of 2009, even right there at the start of the year.

In the years following Lies, the band managed to hone their sound to a perfectly-crafted sharpness, with Nava and backup vocalist/bassist Kevin Pool doing this incredible low-high harmony thing that's defiant and beautiful at the same time, roaring, wall-of-rock guitars courtesy of Sherwood and second guitarist Derek Young, Andy Moths' tight, foot-stomping rhythms, awesomely anthemic melodies, and emo-esque lyricism that tries to do what all those old-school emo bands were doing, questioning why things are the way they are, getting out all that rage and pain, and holding out hope for something else. It's still heavy as fuck, but not heavy for heavy's sake -- it's heavy to make its point, which is the way it's supposed to be. To my ears, anyway, TLPYL morphed from a garden-variety screamo band to one of the best, most well-thought-out emo bands I've heard in about a decade. No mean feat.

Happily, their live show measures up, as well. Nava roams the stage like a menacing, bearded lion in a sleeveless shirt, the guitarists spend practically half the set on top of the monitors, and they all bellow the lyrics like they really, truly believe in 'em. It makes for quite a spectacle, even in the downtempo, quieter moments (Light also incorporates some subtle electronic touches to good effect on tracks like album high mark "Band to Save Me").

I think the only things the band has out so far are the two full-lengths, and while I'd be more than happy to put Light on endless repeat in the car, hell, I've got my fingers crossed that there's more to come... [5/27/2009]

LATCH KEY KIDS: Hot damn, they're back together... Nearly a decade after they split up, the Latch Key Kids are back together -- older, wiser, and hopefully just as good as they were back in the day. I can't say what they sound like this time 'round, but the old stuff cool California-style hardcore punk a la all them wacky Epitaph bands (think No Use For A Name, Lagwagon, Pennywise, etc.). I'm not a big hardcore fan, but the Kids were/are pretty darn good...

When they were originally together, they put out 2 7"s, one on Skene! Records and the other on Houston's own now-defunct Drop Out Records, both of which aren't bad, put in an appearance on the Pinche Flojo Records (also now-defunct, sadly) comp Scene? What Scene? (and a song on the Pinche Flojo 1998 sampler), and even managed two actual full-length albums: Anytime, Anyplace, which is pretty damn cool, and a newer album, Innocence Gone, which I have yet to hear. The band went through quite a few personnel changes, for a while -- they were between drummers for a while, w/Jon Guerinot and Sam from Mr. Yuck filling in where needed (and then Cory Worden, also of punkers Animosity, played with 'em), and guitarist Rhino Neumann left the band to play with Fat Chance, his new band, and was replaced by Dillon Sexton on guitar.

This time out, it looks like the lineup's gonna be Tim G. on vocals, Jonathan on drums, Dave on bass, Dylan on guitar, & Rhino on guitar -- badass. They're playing shows again (including some biggies), which is great news; gonna have to drag my oldtimer ass out of the house sometime soon. Oh, and Tim says they're currently in the process of recording all new LKK stuff -- more news on that when I get it... [1/29/2008]

THE LINUS PAULING QUARTET: Long time coming, this one. Six freakin' albums in, and I've finally been sucked in by the LP4's heavy-ass, sludgy brand of psych-rock. Their latest, All Things Are Light, is what really hammered it home for me, honestly -- it's got fuzz thick enough to slice and spread on toast, songs about aliens, clubs in Montrose, mythical warriors, and malt liquor, and some of the sweetest psych-guitar melodies this side of Silversun Pickups. Plus, this time out the band's toned down the endless jams a bit; my main impression of the band before this release was, "yeah, that's cool, but damn, is it long..."

It occurs to me now, though, that I need to head backwards & check out the band's earlier stuff, from 2003's C6H8O6 through 2000's Ashes in the Bong of God (and by the way: most. badass. album. title. ever. Seriously...), 1998's Killing You With Rock, and 1997's untitled "alien" album, all the way to 1995's Immortal Chinese Classics (and I'm not even gonna go into all the . 'Cause now I'm thinking hell, maybe it's not the band -- maybe it's me that's changed, y'know? The thought hit me while watching the awesome Mike Gunn reunion show, when I realized it was probably a good thing I never got to see the MG back in their heyday; I would've hated it, without a doubt, just because that's what I thought of stuff like that -- and this -- back then.

These days, though, I guess my tastes have broadened a bit, at least in the heavy-rock realm. And listening to the Linus Pauling crew brings to mind all the folks out there that do this sort of shit that I really like -- Federation X, the aforementioned Silversun Pickups, and Priestess, for three -- only the LP4 throws in a wonderfully self-effacing humility, fun Houston self-referentialism, and a wicked sense of humor. Half the time, I'm not sure if the joke's on me or the band themselves (or both), and I respect the hell out of that.

Oh, and the live shows rule, not least of all because said sense of humor is flying high as a kite every damn time the band plays. The last time I saw them, guitarist/ringleader Ramon Medina (who, it happens, also trained me as a DJ many, many years ago at KTRU, although I can't remember a damn bit of what he taught me, now) kicked off one song by literally launching himself through the air at bassist Steve Finley and wrapping himself, koala-like, around the guy (who didn't bat an eye, which I guess means it happens regularly?), all the while roaring Satanically into the microphone. (Don't let that put you off, mind you; believe it or not, most of the songs these guys play are actually damn tuneful, even catchy.)

Of course, all this is helped by the fact that all the guys in the band -- Medina, Finley, drummer Larry Liska, guitarist/vocalist Clinton Heider, and guitarist/vocalist (and fondly remembered SCR reviewer) Charlie Horshack/Naked/Ebersbaker -- are the friendliest, most down-to-earth bunch of anti-hipsters you'll ever meet. They're in a rock band to rock, not for any reason to do with cash or fame (okay, and to get stoned/drunk, too, but still). Which I respect a hell of a lot. And it's nice to see the nice guys getting some recognition these days -- reviews of All Things Are Light seem to be everywhere, and the album itself was released by highly-regarded Aussie psych label Camera Obscura. Twelve years down, and here's hoping the band's got at least another dozen in 'em. [1/7/2008]

LISA'S SONS: I'll admit that I wasn't real sure about these guys the first time I caught 'em. The two "Sons," Stefan Mach and Jordan Brady, climbed onstage to stand in front of a modest bank of keyboards and samplers, then dove headlong into a primary-colored, synth-heavy, freakishly earnest, sugary-sweet pop explosion. What the hell? Wasn't one of these guys in mathcore titans By the End of Tonight?

Honestly, it was the seeming earnestness that threw me for a loop at first -- was this some big, elaborate joke, a hipster-ironic jab at electro-pop bands? Or were these actually guys serious, with their cheery, shiny, melodic-as-hell songs about girls and friends and partying? And weirdly, after listening to their full-length, Digital Nozzle (which is available for download on the duo's BandCamp site), I think the Sons actually are. At least, they're as serious as they need to be.

And really, I think it works for 'em. On tracks like "I Saw Her Yesterday," "Impossible Odds," and "June 2nd, 2007," the Sons' over-the-top, hyper-catchy, unselfconscious (and often ridiculously personal) songwriting comes off as endearing, quirky and heartfelt, with an underlying message, it seems, about being yourself and having fun, no matter what the hell's going on. Which explains somewhat the slaphappy grins on the faces of the Sons' devoted friends/fans as they bounce around the stage -- it's all about fun, in the end, so who cares whether or not these guys are kidding?

It helps, naturally, that the slightly-fuzzed electro-pop the Sons make is jaw-droppingly spot-on; at their best, they come off like an amped-up, all-male Mates of State, if Atom and His Package took over the mic. Rentals-esque synths thunder and explode, Brady and Mach's voices meld in an unaffected, boyish harmony, and the canned (but not stale) beats propel things forward at a half-breakneck pace, and by the end of Digital Nozzle, I'm fully hooked.

The duo's reportedly been working on a followup, which Mach says (on the band's Myspace) will be more of a true collaboration than Nozzle was -- the album was apparently mostly written by Mach -- but they've warned that it could take a while, since Mach now lives in Austin while Brady lives down here in Houston. Keep an eye out... [11/29/2009]

LISTENLISTEN: I know, I know -- I'm slow on this one. Did an actual interview with these guys, and yet it takes me this long to actually get 'em up here? Sad, sad, sad.... Especially so because listenlisten (or LISTEN!LISTEN!, apparently) is one of the absolute leading lights of Houston's undersung "countrified/folky indie" scene, which also includes people like Buxton, The Scattered PAGES, Papermoons, & Georgia's Horse, just going by what the music sounds like.

The banjos and mandolins drift in out of the Appalachian treeline, married to melancholy, troubled voices that sing about things gone wrong and sounding like it'd fit best 'round a campfire of some doomed wagon-train from a century or so ago. And yes, I mean that in the best possible way. The band incorporates gospel, folk, bluegrass, and (no, seriously) rock into a fascinating, can't-turn-away musical amalgam that's as effortless as it is seemingly timeless. Think The Black Heart Procession, Murder by Death, Skeleton Key (in their less-funk moments), Will Oldham, William Elliot Whitmore, and Iron & Wine, and you'll be nearing listenlisten territory. Add to that the band members' generally reclusive natures, their penchant for hyper-obscure titles and lyrics (how can I not love a band with song titles like "Awaiting Strings And Implantable Things" and "Watching The Watchers Watch Us Watching"), and the fact that the one eponymous EP they've released so far was built out of actual wood, with the band's name literally burned into it, and...well, you've got a hell of a musical phenomenon.

Luckily, while they've been keeping their collective head down lately, the band's been busy working on their first full-length album, Hymns from Rhodesia (due out on Abilene label Murkville Music), which promises to be even stranger and more intriguing than that first show across the bow. Oh, and the band says the new stuff's darker and more complex than the older stuff (to which I feel compelled to respond: better hide the straight-razor before listening, folks...). If we're really fortunate, they'll grace us with some live dates soon, too. [7/14/2008]

MANSION: Okay, so I feel pretty stupid. Local pop-rock guys Mansion have been floating around this city for a long, long, long time, and I've somehow managed to avoid them for just about the whole time. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I finally caught them live recently at one of David Cobb's Houston Calling shows at The Proletariat, and holy fuck. I haven't seen an indie-rock trio that good in quite a while, maybe not even since I caught Silver Scooter at a jaw-dropping show back in the day at The Oven (yes, that long ago).

In fact, the Silver Scooter comparison's pretty apt, really, because Mansion do that superfuzzed drone thing I loved so much about those long-departed Austinites astoundingly well, using the bass as if it were basically a really big, really deep guitar and driving the melody straight into your skull. Live they were freakin' great, so much so that when I finally heard their debut album, feetpersecond, from way back in 2000, I figured, "okay, there's no way this'll compare even remotely to the band live, but eh, it should be interesting, at least." Boy, howdy, is it -- the sound you hear is me smacking myself in the forehead repeatedly. This is what happens when you become a homebody shut-in, dammit...

At any rate, feetpersecond is good. Good enough, to my ears, that I'm a little stunned I hadn't had this forced on me 'til now. Heck, it's almost a little overwhelming at 22 tracks, particularly since there's very little filler in there. Geoff Bay's guitars roar and churn like something Bob Mould would've played in his heyday (sorry, Bob, but I just don't get the dance thing), Thatcher Focke's bass rumbles and charges, and Matt Renfro's drums propel the whole thing along. There's plenty of '90s indie-rock going on, but I hear bits and pieces of all kinds of stuff on here, from Hüsker Dü to Seam to Sonic Youth to murky spy-music ("Disco Internationale"), and it somehow all meshes together to form a cohesive whole that sounds, well, pretty much like Mansion. Which is a good thing, trust me. Hard to believe, but feetpersecond's just surged to the top of my Damn Good Local CDs pile.

Now for the really good news: when I asked Bay if they had any CDs I could buy, he handed me mine and said, "Take it, it's my last one." When I tried to refuse and offered to pay for it, he waved me off and told me it was seven years old by now and not to worry about it; then he added the band would be releasing a new disc in the near-near-near future. This time, I swear I'll be paying attention. [2/23/2007]

THE MATHLETES: I love pop. Honest, I really, truly do -- I do the dark-and-dour thing, too, but few things make me happy like a well-crafted, intelligent, quirky pop song. Which explains, frankly, why I dig The Mathletes so damn much. In spite of all protestations to the contrary, frontman/songwriter/guitarist/crazed, self-effacing genius Joe Mathlete writes some awesome (no, really), funny, oddly bent little pop songs, the likes of which kind of got swallowed up back at the end of the '90s when bands like Eggs and The Dead Milkmen imploded. (Although, I'll admit it, there are still neat little outfits around like Machine Go Boom, with whom The Mathletes share some serious musical genes...)

The songs all ramble and meander about, seemingly aimlessly, while Joe M. spins out bizarre (yet often touching) stories about bitter unicorns, robots who need purpose, true love, and the end of the world. And while things seem to be just rambling along, the songs are all actually surprisingly focused and tight, like strange little fractured-pop gems. If the previous comparisons don't help you pin the sound down further, try to imagine a quavery-voiced Robert Schneider playing with Casiotone for the Painfully Alone as his backing "band." Or, uh, Trout Fishing In America if they dropped a lot of acid and hung out with Wayne Coyne. It's lo-to-mid- fi, it's sweet, it's catchy as hell, and it's pretty freakin' great.

The down side of The Mathletes' genius, though, is that Joe M.'s home-recorded releases all tend to be D.I.Y. efforts, to the point where it's damned difficult to even figure out what the band's put out. I've honestly got no idea what all they've released, beyond 2008's "real" album, #$@% You and Your Cool (out on Asaurus Records, a label that folded right after putting the damn thing out, naturally), and two albums of covers, The Mathletes Own Other People's Songs and We're the Mathletes, and We're From Houston, So How About That, Volume One (the latter of which is all covers of H-town folks). I think there's earlier stuff, like the legendary Fort Awesome cassette (CD-R?), but I've got not much clue what it was or how to get it. (Joe, if you're reading this: hint, hint?)

And good luck finding any of the stuff I do know about if you haven't already -- your best bet is the All Star Powerup "rack" at Sound Exchange, and Joe only refills it sporadically. Which is a shame, really, because I think these folks would truly blow people away if they got more exposure, recordings-wise, outside of the city. Of course, that in itself might kill the whole thing for Joe, so maybe it's best they remain H-town's dirty/sweet little secret...

It's worth mentioning, btw, that The Mathletes as a group are pretty fluid -- at times there have been set groups of bass-drums-whatever playing with Joe M., but at others it's all just him and whatever H-town scene luminaries he can drag along for the ride. (See full list of participants past & present http://www.theskyline.net/wiki/index.php/The_Mathletes.) The only constant, really, is Joe himself. If you name a local Houston indie-rock/pop band, odds are somebody in the band's been a Mathlete at one time or another. (Heck, members of non-local people The Rosebuds/Bishop Allen and Dirty Projectors have apparently been Mathletes from time to time.)

If the musical stuff isn't your be-all and end-all, mind you, it's not Joe M.'s, either. He's a wacky cartoonist/artist, has been known to dabble in musical theater, even drifting briefly to Austin for a role in the Daniel Johnston-inspired rock opera, Speeding Motorcycle, and is the guy behind the strangely humorous Marmaduke Explained site (not to mention Robot McGee Explains Fine Art, Joe Mathlete Will Draw Anything You Ask Him To On An Index Card, and the long-dormant Joe Mathlete Draws a Nipple on Ziggy's Nose So That His Nose Looks Like A Titty). On top of all that, he and his musical cohorts -- all the ones I've met, anyway -- are honestly among the nicest people you're likely to meet. Joe's a good guy, truly; it's ridiculously cool that he also happens to be so good at what he does... [1/1/2009]

MISS LESLIE AND HER JUKE-JOINTERS: As I've mentioned elsewhere here, I can't stand most country. Despite (or maybe because of, in fact) spending my life from middle school onwards in Texas, I've managed to always save a special sort of loathing for the "country," at least, that I grew up with. The Kenny Chesneys and Garth Brookses of the world don't do a damn thing for me but make me want to turn off the radio.

Of course, I recognize that people like that are really only a teeny-tiny part of the grand universe of country music. As a kid I remember being fascinated with Hee-Haw (we lived in Germany at the time, so it was pretty alien) and liking Dolly Parton, but as the pop-country wave hit in the late '80s, it got horrible fast. Even still, though, I've apparently retained a small place in my heart for old-style country, the kind made by folks like Bill Monroe, Flatt & Scruggs, and Patsy Cline. That stuff sounds more real, more authentically Texan to me than Toby Keith ever will.

Lucky for me, then, that I happen to live in the same city as Miss Leslie and Her Juke-Jointers. These folks mine the exact same vein of old-school, somewhat traditional country that I liked when I was little and still find myself tapping along to now. Think the Carter Family, Buck Owens, and Loretta Lynn, and you'll get the idea. Miss Leslie herself does that lonesome, Patsy Cline-esque wail beautifully, sounding for all the world like a jilted, down-on-her-luck lady left standing at the bar while her beau goes out the door with somebody else, while behind her the band swings and strolls along like they've never done anything but this all their lives (and hell, maybe they haven't; seriously, they're that good).

The music is damn near perfect, a gorgeously sad, modest, unpretentious throwback to the days when country music wasn't about selling pickup trucks. On her MySpace page, Miss Leslie mentions that they'll play anything people want, but that they don't know a song written later than 1970 other than Leslie's own compositions. When I caught the band last, they were playing downtown to a crowd that was about half well-dressed older folks and half dreadlocked kids with baggy shorts, but when I close my eyes I see 'em in a dingy, smoke-filled bar way out in the sticks, filled with folks who came just to drown their sorrows and drift away in the music.

Best of all, this must be the hardest-working band in town, because they seem to always be playing somewhere, bouncing between The Continental Club in Midtown, honky-tonks and icehouses out in places like Willis or Bandera, and county fairs and festivals in every town you can name between here and El Paso. These folks are definitely pros -- apparently their lap steel player's played with Gary P. Nunn and Dale Watson, while bassist Ric played with Two Tons of Steel and Wayne Hancock. Check their site(s) to see when they're playing near you and then go check 'em out. You'll feel like crying when you listen to the words, but the music'll make you smile. [4/4/2007]

PALE: These guys get better every time I see 'em (which is definitely something to hope for, obviously). I saw Pale a good while back up at Emo's and wasn't real impressed, and then got to see them a bunch last year (after a couple of severe band changeups), and damn, I was impressed that time -- loud (really loud), interesting, emo-ish indie-rock, a little reminiscent of stuff like early Jawbreaker, etc. I saw 'em recently for the first time in a while, though, and I'm happy to say that they're better than I've ever seen 'em -- one major point is that they finally got their roadie guy (who's a really nice guy; don't get me wrong) to stop dancing around in his pink tutu while they play, but beyond that, the songs and the playing have improved, as well.

They've only got a couple of things out, including a not-great track on the Songs From the Icehouse comp and they're close-to-brand-new CD. I'm still making up my mind about it, largely 'cause it really doesn't sound much like what I'd expected (more Cure than Sunny Day Real Estate). Still, it's growing on me, so you oughta go check it out. Oh yeah, and I'm told the band just got a sweet deal with Muleshoe Entertainment, who manage/book/promote 7% Solution up in Dallas (or is it Austin?). Sounds promising... [4/21/2004]

THE PHLEGMATICS: Man, there are too damn few bands in town like this; most rock bands that try to be funny seem to do so at the expense of the actual music, instead throwing lame jokes at half-assed punk tunes or faux-hardcore posturing. Which is a damn shame, because The Phlegmatics manage to fit in both sarcastic, self-deprecating humor about their inherent nerd/geek/dork-dom and roaring Marshall-stack guitars and pretty harmonies. They take the best parts of Weezer, The Stereo, The Descendents, and that godawful band Nerf Herder and mash 'em all together to make their own peculiarly catchy brand of Katy-bred power-pop.

I mean, what's not to love about a band of self-professed nerds who sign about how they get mistaken for being gay ("Funny That Way") or how that mild-mannered radio guy introducing This American Life really wants to go scream and jump around in a punk-club pit ("Punk Rock Club"), all the while sounding like they'd be opening for OK Go in some arena somewhere? And I've just gotta like a band that's willing to namecheck various characters from The Iliad and The Odyssey and then "rhyme" "Helen of Troy" with "Siegfried and Roy." I can't explain it, folks, but it works.

I'd thought the Phlegs were dead for a while there, after putting out 2004's awesomely cool Alumnus to some favorable press & playing the Press Awards show a few years back -- I happened to catch 'em in some too-small venue off Main and was blown away, but then...poof. It seemed like they were gone, toast, over, etc., but thankfully, they were only in hibernation. They've now returned with a new band member, Dave "Dad" Marshall (father to singer/guitarist Jonathan and brother Ethan, I'm guessing), and have reportedly spent the time off working on new stuff for their second album, the aptly-titled Sophomore Effort. What I've heard of it has been pretty damn cool, so I'll be looking forward to it. [9/27/2007]

PIANO VINES: Yeah, I've been fully intending on putting these folks on here for a while, but I held off in the foolish hope that I'd either eventually A) get to see 'em live or B) manage to glom onto an actual CD. Neither of which, unfortunately, have happened. That's partly my own damn fault, obviously -- I just can't get out as much as I could in the Good Old Days -- but it's also a little frustrating to be teased with these awesomely beautiful recordings on the band's Myspace site (see the link above) and yet not be able to play 'em anywhere other than my damn computer. Argh. Seriously, I need-need-need to get a Piano Vines CD, and quick, before my brain melts and drips out my ears.

In all seriousness, this duo/occasional trio (main members Pam Cantu on vocals/keys/guitars/xylophone & David Howard on vocals/guitars/keys/bass/drums/etc., with Nolan Burke helping out with the live drums and keys) is one of the most promising bands I've heard in a while, local or no -- I love Cantu's clear-as-a-bell vocals, which bring to mind Feist or maybe the kids in Eisley, and the music underneath it is sweet and gorgeous and driving like all those old Parasol indie-pop gems I/you loved back in the day (c'mon, you know you did, just admit it). The songs they've currently got up are light and airy but never insubstantial, instead swirling and charging along in a sunshiny haze that nicely skirts dreampop and building intricately to a perfectly-executed close. Some of the songs come off like Broken Social Scene minus the half-assed-ness, while others come near to Ambulette (esp. the Maura Davis part of the band) territory. Trust me: these folks know what they're doing and can pull it off in a way that should make indie-pop-ish record labels all 'round the country pay attention.

Again, though -- no CD as yet. Which sucks, 'cause it means waiting a while longer for the band to really blow everybody away. I've heard rumors that they've got something in the works, so keep your fingers crossed. [12/31/2007]

THE RIFF TIFFS: Been meaning to add these folks for a while now, but I kept running into one big-ass stumbling block -- how the hell do I describe 'em? The Riff Tiffs don't really fit into any particular box, stepping easily from Secret Machines-esque spacerock to Explosions in the Sky instro-rock atmospherics to full-on retro-psych a la Pink Floyd (no, really) to straight-up early-'90s indie-rock that brings to mind early Spoon or Buffalo Tom to Bends-era Radiohead. They're all over the damn place.

I guess where they really fit best is just in some kind of general "indie-psych-rock" category; no matter what they're doing, the songs drift and swirl nicely, and the band doesn't rock out so much as nod out (again, think Explosions in the Sky). Which is no bad thing, personally -- the Tiffs are one of those bands to put on the CD player on hazy summer days when the world seems to move more slowly than it usually does. Just sit back and bliss out, I think that's the key, especially given that the oblique lyrics rarely make much sense (at least to me). I have yet to see these guys/girl (the band's comprised of brothers Chris & Curran Rehm on guitars, plus Sean Hart on drums and Althea Topek on bass) live, but dammit, I need to, and soon.

They've got two releases that I know of out so far, 2006's self titled "dragonfly" EP, which is decently promising, and 2007's Afflictinnitus, which takes that promise and carves into a beautiful gem of a disc. (I'd recommend the latter more than the former, honestly.) Per their Myspace page, they're working on new stuff, so stay tuned. [2/4/2008]

THE SCATTERED PAGES: Yeah, that's just a wee bit embarrassing -- one of the best, most original, neato-est bands in my own damn city...and I end up learning about 'em (pretty much) in the pages of CMJ. Argh. Granted, I'd heard of the band, heard good things about 'em, but never actually heard them...

At any rate, I've since picked up 2006's This Is Where the Story Ends, and I'm kicking myself for not grabbing it sooner. The album's a strange sort of "Western rock" -- not country, not folk, but with elements of both, plus a penchant for indie experimentation and a hearty dose of "old-timey" elements. In terms of bands who do stuff like this, think Austin's Okkervil River, Iron & Wine, Murder By Death, or Neko Case at her spookiest. The songs are murky and resigned-sounding, with gorgeous slide guitar lines, Nick Cave-ish vocals, and bits of country so old-school they'd make the cast of Hee Haw blush. This is like the soundtrack to a Gothic-style Western, something Cormac McCarthy might write. The songs drift in and out like melancholy ghosts who can't find peace but aren't quite out to wreak vengeance on humanity.

And it's freakin' great, if you couldn't guess that from the above. I love the quiet, more countrified bits, I love the gloomy lyrics, and I love the frantic flamenco raveup in "Apple Sea" -- the whole damn thing. Still haven't caught The Pages (or is it PAGES? I'm never sure if its caps or not...) live, but I'm a click or two away from ordering their second album, Lazy Are The Skeletons, right now (both discs are out on Three Ring Records)... [5/26/2007]

RYAN SCROGGINS AND THE TRENCHTOWN TEXANS: I was depressed as hell to hear that the seemingly indestructible Los Skarnales had finally called it a day, but I have to admit that I'm damn happy to see what's come out of the wreckage. It seems like nearly every member of the band has gone on to form another band; it's like they're the Rodan of Houston ska, seriously.

Case in point: Ryan Scroggins and the Trenchtown Texans. Frontman/keyboardist/singer Scroggins and drummer Pat "Beans" Kelly were once upon a time in a ska band called Secret Agent 8, and when that band faded away the two jumped to the ever-popular Los Skarnales. After the LS breakup, the duo started a new outfit, incorporating Jeremy Pena on guitars, Nathan Smith on sax, and Thomas Dowda on bass, and proceeded to wander back towards their ska roots.

Which is a good thing, of course. Sometimes I long for the days when dozens of ska bands seemingly stomped and skanked across the stage at Fitz and The Abyss, drawing in not only great local bands but high-flying out-of-towners. The Trenchtown Texans hark back to those days in the best possible way, pulling together all those trad-ska influences like Toots and the Maytals, The Scofflaws, and The Skatalites into a cool new whole. Oh, and there's a fair amount of soul-ska going on, too (especially in the vocals), with hints of The Pietasters, Chris Murray, and my personal faves The Adjusters.

Anyway, these guys do some good, good, good stuff. They've got a self-titled full-length out on Megalith Recs(!), and I'd highly recommend checking it -- and the band -- out. [10/3/2007]

SHARKS AND SAILORS: Holy fucking shit. I can't believe it's taken me this damn long to put these folks on this little page. Why? To put it bluntly, because they're probably the best indie-rock band in town right now; no offense to the many, many other talented bands doing their thing here in H-town, but Sharks and Sailors are truly something else. They're loud, ferocious, and pummeling, all the while managing to keep things melodic and catchy. The band's probably the closest thing Houston's ever come to matching the precise, controlled-chaos fury of all those math-rock bands that came out of Louisville back in the day, or heck, maybe the nearest we've got to Unwound or Mission of Burma -- think thundering, gonna-kick-your-ass bass, complex, intertwining guitar lines, off-but-it-works melody, and plenty of sung-spoken vocals. Put it all together, and Sharks and Sailors are an amazing thing to see/hear.

All of which makes sense, considering the band's pedigree. I don't know most of the members of the band (Melissa Lonchambon, bass/vocals; Michael Rollin, guitar/vocals; Phillip Woodward, drums) personally, but they've all been around the scene a while; bassist/vocalist Lonchambon, for one, has been in bands pretty much as long as I've lived here, from way back when with We've Got Airplanes and Pop Deflation up through the much-rockin' Panic in Detroit a few years back. I'm very glad to see she's kept moving on, getting better and better each time. Oh, and the guy up in the front used to be guitarist/singer Allen Hendrix, but he bowed out a while back to be able to devote more time to his family, which makes me sad but which I totally get, believe me...

Thankfully, after a few years of rocking out with one measly three-song EP, they now have a real-live full-length, Builds Brand New. And yes, it's pretty damn awesome, although the band's shifting somewhat from the full-on head-crushing assault to more of a hypnotic, trance-inducing sound. Credit where it's due: it works. If these folks stay together, there's no telling how far they'll go. [12/23/2008]

SOMETHING FIERCE: Damn. I just can't say enough things about these crazy kids. You wouldn't think it to look at 'em, but when this little threesome picks up their instruments, their brand of catchy, bitterly tuneful, raw-but-not-messy garage-rock just plain knocks me off my feet. The music is loud and raw, as furious, urgent, and punkish as the Ramones or early Social D, but with a subtle dose of melody. Guitarist/vocalist Steven Garcia, bassist Niki Sevven, and drummer Red Rocket manage to take what's left of modern-day garage rock -- and let's be honest, most of what's out there just ain't that pretty -- and meld it with songs like the ones that made late-'70s/early-'80s British power-pop so freakin' amazing.

In the relatively short time they've been together, they've been throwing out releases -- there's 2006's excellent, excellent Come For The Bastards (reviewed here), which is one of the best blasts of sweaty, amped-up rock I've heard in quite a while, an awesome split-7" with College Station's The Hangouts on Manic Attack Records, the much-delayed Modern Girl 7" on Bitchin' Riffage Recs, and in 2008 the badass second release, There Are No Answers (reviewed here). The new stuff, in particular, is freakin' great, particularly "Teenage Ruins," which has become my H-town rock anthem of the moment, "Modern Girl," "Aliens," and "Why Can't I." It's raw and fiery, but different, more explicitly indebted to the power-pop side of things, and honest, it's great.

(The deal with the Modern Girl 7", by the way: the record was due to come out quite a while back, but the label ran into some serious financial difficulties. When it became apparent that the vinyl wasn't happening -- or so the SF crew thought -- they decided to give it away for free on the Houstonpunk.com site. Miraculously, though, it's now actually released, so pick up a copy if you run across it, eh?)

Best of all, SF somehow blaze just as bright live as they do on record. I caught 'em not long ago at Rudz, and the transformation from friendly punk-jacket-wearing kids to full-on rock heroes was impressive. Rocket's drumming is frantic without being all over the place, Sevven's bass anchors the whole mess, and Garcia yowls and careens around the stage like he's channeling Agent Orange's Mike Palm (and that's a good thing). Put it all together, and you've got one of the best damn garage-y punk bands I've ever seen come out of this city. Cross your fingers they don't crash and burn like bands here seem to do on a regular basis... [12/23/2008]

SPAIN COLORED ORANGE: Well, I'm not sure if this is really a "band," per se, or more of a "side project"-type thing for the folks involved, but whichever, it's damn cool. This is basically Gilbert from Blueprint/In Echos (see above), along with some fairly-new bandmates who I don't know at all, doing a cool little 4-track pop thing. (Greg from Fox Force Five, Ben from We've Got Airplanes/Lucky Motors, and this guy Josh were all in the band at one point, but they ain't no more, for various reasons...) No Sebadoh comparisons here, really -- these songs & this sound owe more to the Beatles and Stereolab than anything else: cool, melodic pop songs with lots of sweet melodies and harmonies, heavily accented with keyboards. Neato... Anyway, with In Echos doing the more "drone-y" thing these days (from what I've heard, anyway), Spain Colored Orange is playing more often, as well, I guess as an outlet for Gilbert's pop side... Not a clue who's in the band these days, but I spotted a CD at the store just the other day (self-released, I think), and it looked pretty damn cool. They had a few tapes floating around, as well, but I remember hearing quite a while ago that they were all out of those... [10/1/2000]

STADIUM: It's nice when things make sense sometimes. I mean, how the hell can I not like Stadium, considering that these guys have a pretty distinguished pedigree -- guitarist/vocalist Jeffrey Stilwell, guitarist/vocalist Ramzi Beshara, bassist Stephen Henderson, and drummer Clay Jasper have all been in badass H-town bands, namely almost-heroes Little Compass and the awesome The Record Time before that. In-between the two, Beshara and Stilwell were also in The Maria Project, and Stilwell ended up in The Shallow Tide. All in all, it shouldn't be much of a surprise that I like this band.

The best part, really, is that with this band, all these guys seemed to have done something that beats the hell out of their previous efforts. I have yet to see 'em live, but just from listening to their debut EP, Change of plans, we're coming home, I'm utterly blown away. They meld anthemic, roaring Jimmy Eat World-esque emo to Burning Airlines-ish post-hardcore, and they do it with a nice sense of restraint. I'd always liked The Record Time and Little Compass, but they never really quite hit the mark, y'know? Both bands burned too quick and faded out, in typical H-town fashion, before they really hit their potential.

These guys have gotten off to a heck of a start; I hope they stick around longer than their previous bands. No word yet on any plans for a new album/EP, but they've been playing a ton of shows lately, so I've got my fingers crossed. [12/17/2007]

THE SUSPECTS: Back again, once is the incredible...yes, it's true -- The Suspects are back & rejuvenated. Hep, hep, hep... The band broke up for several years there, after nearly a decade of full-on old-school ska, and man, was I bummed. The band had hit some rocky points, due to some personnel shakeups and a general lack of time, and back in 2002 they decided to call it a day -- it was a sad day for the Houston music scene and ska in general, in my book. While they were with us, The Suspects were -- and are still, but I'll get to that -- Houston's greatest ska band, and probably even Texas' greatest ska band, too. They survived a heck of a long run and a bunch of personnel changes -- since I first saw them way back in college, they've gone through three horn players, a singer, and a bassist. Even now, I still have a hard time conceiving of the band without Charlie (ex-bassist), Andy (ex-saxophonist), and Hunter (ex-trombonist), but the band remained freakin' incredible throughout the changes.

I have a feeling the band's first two 7-inches are way out of print, at this point, but you can generally find a few copies of their lone EP, Panic Button! (on Jump Start Records), and their 3 full-length albums (the decent Ninety-Nine Paid, the more recent and absolutely great How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Ska -- love that title -- and the final album, Lost Along the Way, which is pretty damn cool, too) at SoundEx, Soundwaves, Cactus, and a couple dozen other stores in Houston and beyond (and now, I'm told online).

They also appeared on a ton of comps, including the first-ever comp of Texas ska bands, Texas Ska Volume 1, put out by those cool folks at Pinche Flojo, the Spawn of Skarmageddon comp, the We Plead the 5th comp, and the European-only comps Ska-Attack 2, Kob vs. Mad Butcher, Ska Chartbusters, and Skanking The Scum Away (I'm sure it makes sense in German). I never got to hear it, but I'm told there's also a 3rd 7", out on Mad Butcher Records in Germany, called Spare Me The Details, which sounds cool (just wish I could get a copy...). There were rumors of a Suspects/Middlefinger joint release, but I don't know if anything ever came of it.

Even before the demise of the band, everybody seemed to be playing in a half-dozen other projects: Jason's also in Middlefinger & sometimes 30footFALL (he was swapping bands with drummer Claudio for a while, who was filling in on drums for Middlefinger); Aaron's now in Secret Agent 8, as is long-departed Suspects singer Chris Kendrick; singer Thomas now fronts the awesome Clouseaux, along with bassist Jay (also in Middlefinger), Claudio, and trombonist Ryan; and ex-bassist Charlie and Claudio were in The Magnetic IV for quite a while, and are now apparently doing something called The Dragstrip Brothers. Scary, eh?

Now, for the good news: as I hinted at right there in the beginning, after doing a couple of all-hands-on-deck reunion shows over the past few years, the Suspects finally decided to give it another shot. And that is good damn news. They've been playing sporadically since the re-up, and on top of that, they're even writing new music. Hoo-ah. Here's hoping they stick around... [2/4/2009]

TAMBERSAURO: Damn. Just as I was finally going to write these guys up, I heard a hint that the three guys in Tambersauro -- guitarist Michael Blackshear, bassist Jeff Price, and drummer/laptop-mangler Lance Higdon (all three do vocals at various points, I believe, although Price seems to handle 'em live, for the most part) -- are preparing to hang up their instruments, at least for a while. Which sucks, because Tambersauro is one of the coolest, most intriguing bands in town right now, and losing them would be a freaking crime.

Why? Well, because the trio does the math-rock thing like few others in Houston can, save The Jonx (or maybe older, less-mellow Sharks and Sailors). They play a brand of math-y, jazzy, thinking-man's rock that combines equal parts snarling/shouting Fugazi exhortation, sharp-edged June Of '44 atmosphere, and spiraling, strong-armed Minutemen nimble-ness into something that probably comes closest to Slint, at least on record. Live, they're a hell of a lot more visceral, hammering away at their instruments like they're industrial tools more than guitars and drum kit and bellowing/intoning deeply-thought, intense lyrics (sometimes, anyway) like streetcorner scientists hellbent on warning the public that The End is Near.

All of which, needless to say, is pretty fucking badass, particularly because these guys can really, truly pull it off. Higdon's a multi-rhymthic octopus (who apparently plays facing away from the audience, by the way) on the drums, not to mention a truly nice, ridiculously literate guy, Price shouts and attacks his bass like a belligerent Thurston Moore fronting an old-school SST band, and I swear to God, I have no idea how Blackshear makes his guitar fucking do what it does. Damn.

In his spare time, Price also runs Esotype Records, one of the coolest, most promising labels around (with the help of Higdon, among others). They've put out two Tambersauro full-lengths so far, both recorded at Price's Hill View Studios -- 2006's self-titled debut and 2008's utterly mind-blowing Theories of Delusional Origin -- and I thought I'd heard a while back that a third full-length was in the works, as well. Hopefully the recent rumors turn out to be just that... [7/12/2009]

TEENAGE KICKS: These three guys (guitarist/singer Kirke Campbell, bassist Stewart Anderson, & drummer John Baldwin) are one of the best damn bands in town right now, no lie. I'm not quite sure how they do it, but they're like the freakin' embodiment of power-pop. They take everything I love about all those bands from the proto-punk era, when the lines were a lot more blurred (read: nonexistent) than they are right now. Seriously, these guys boil down the genius of folks like The Undertones (duh), The Boys, Wreckless Eric, Stiff Little Fingers, and -- most of all -- The Jam, and distill it into its coolest/purest form.

They're both raw and smart at the same time, with a knack for awesome melodies, a nicely bitter lyrical sense, a subtle-yet-outraged political bent, and best of all, they honest-to-God seem to worship the music they play. They're one of those bands you can easily picture scouring used vinyl bins for obscure retro gems and valiantly defending under-appreciated but hooky gems. They're not just aping some garage-rock trend because it's cool, but play this stuff because they fucking totally love it, and that love nearly seeps out through their pores. They're like your geekiest, most earnest, most OCD record-collecting friend, except they actually play instruments and aren't nearly that high-strung. Simply put: they're awesome.

The closest kin I can see -- esp. with their more recent stuff, which is a bit more nuanced and smart than the first few tracks they released -- is the aforementioned Jam, and while I'm probably repeating things I've said elsewhere, the Kicks are honestly one of the few bands I've ever heard that ride that line between punk and pop without a single misstep. They're loud when they need to be, melodic when they need to be, and smart as hell throughout. The songs never outlast their welcome, instead leaving you (well, me, at least) wishing they'd go on a little longer, like maybe all day or something. Plus, they make some truly understated political jabs (I think, anyway) without coming off like self-righteous, self-important jerks. Which is always a good thing.

Also nice about the band is that they're all fiercely devoted to "The Scene" and work their asses off to not only promote themselves but to help out other folks, to boot. A couple of the guys (not sure which, sorry!) started up the Houstonpunk.com site/board, which has been a welcome addition to the local digital landscape, and drummer John's also been part of the Always Summer Booking crew, which has been sadly kinda quiet lately but deserve boatloads of credit for bringing some great shows to town. This is what a fully-functional scene's about, folks: good bands that don't just rock out on stage & then sit back on the couch 'til the next show rolls around

They don't have a whole heck of a lot out yet -- there's currently one self-titled EP (which is excellent) and a Grey Ghost series EP (which is good, but messy/noisy) that you're never, ever gonna see if you don't already own a copy, and that's it -- but I'm told there's more on the way, like two possible 7-inches that're hopefully coming out sometime in the next several months. Keep your eyes out for 'em, seriously. [9/8/2008]

30FOOTFALL: Punkpunkpunkpunk. These guys are reportedly pretty cool (only seen them live once, myself), and they've got a brand-new CD out, Ever Revolving Never Evolving, on Nitro Records, alongside their 2 "classic" previous full-lengths, Acme -- 143 and Divided We Stand..., both out on Fearless Records. On top of that they've also got three 7"s, a couple of really ancient tapes, and a bunch of songs on various comps (for completeness' sake: The Coolest Shit In Texas -- Broken Note; Risk Is Just Part Of The Game -- Lazy Squid; Nothing Is Cool -- Fuzzgun; Noncompliance -- Broken Note; Punk Bites -- Fearless; No Approval Needed Vol. 1 -- Broken Note; The Fearless Flush Sampler -- Fearless; and No Approval Needed Vol. 3 -- Broken Note). "Another Kind Of Slavery," off both the Noncompliance comp and the Junior High Sucked 7", is a brilliant song. From what I've heard recently, the band's been in serious limbo, and were on the verge of breaking up at least once, but it looks now like they're playing shows once again, this time with a new guitarist, Jason, who's also in The Suspects and Middlefinger. Oh yeah, and former 30footFALL'ers have gone on to be in a bunch of other local bands, like Bickley, River Fenix, I-45, Latch Key Kids, and Middlefinger. Gotta love this incestuous-as-hell music scene.... Anyway, here's hoping they don't throw in the towel for a while yet. [8/29/2000]

THE TONTONS: I know it's the height of cliché to declare that some band's sound is "unique," but damn it, that's where I'm at with The Tontons. They really, truly sound like no other band I know, whether you're talking about Houston or parts further afield. The band meshes together heavy, head-nodding psychedelic rock with smooth-and-sultry soul vocals, and the result is pretty incredible -- the best description I've been able to come up with is if Jimi Hendrix, Noel Redding, and Mitch Mitchell had all formed a band and Hendrix had decided not to sing but to ask a young Billie Holiday (yes, I know; this is all totally hypothetical, remember). Smoky and raw and bluesy and dreamy and strange, all at once.

The bizarre-yet-awesome mishmash makes some sense when you consider the band members' past/side projects, mind you. Guitarist Adam Martinez and bassist Tom Nguyen were previously in a more "rock" band, the psychedelic outfit Helicopter Jones, which imploded after playing a show with vocalist Asli Omar's previous band, Colonnia de Soul. The three got together when their respective musical things went away, recruited Martinez's brother Justin on drums, and combined the psych-rock leanings with Omar's more jazzy, soul-heavy background and whisper-to-a-howl voice, and pretty much pulled their name out of a hat -- the band got the name after watching The Empire Strikes Back, they swear, not the Haitian gang.

In spite of their success (they won "Best New Band" in the 2008 Houston Press Music Awards), The Tontons haven't been together all that long, and they've only got one release so far, 2007's Sea and Stars EP on Esthetic Noise Records. They're currently working on a brand-new set of songs for a full-length on Esthetic Noise, and by all reports, it's good shit. Sadly, they hit a stumbling block recently when a bunch of Adam's gear was swiped from his car, right in the middle of the band recording the new songs. Fuck. Keep an eye out for the stolen stuff, and help the band out with the funds to replace if you can, eh? [7/14/2008]

ULTRAMAGG: Damn, but these guys are neato. They used to be a sloppy garage-punk band called Pull My Finger, and they even put out a CD under that name, but decided somewhere along the way that they were tired of doing the punk thing, and manage to transform, instead, into a pretty fucking cool indie-rock band. They sound at times like king indie-rockers Superchunk, but also throw in a good bit of an emo influence, and even bring to mind mainstream alternarockers Weezer at times (in a good way, mind you) -- loud, melodic, pained songs about love; exactly my kind of thing, believe me. Thankfully, they've finally got their self-titled CD out, on their own little Less Than Records label, and it's absolutely amazing. No, really. It rocks, and everybody and their mom oughta own a copy, seriously. Anyway, they've been working on some new stuff lately, up at Dan Workman's Sugar Hill Studios, and have a track on Deep Elm Record's recently-released The Emo Diaries, Volume 3 compilation (woo-hoo!). Beyond that, they're hoping to release a 7" sometime around March. Thankfully, bassist Mikel is back from his, uh, "vacation" at the Texas Dept. of Corrections boot camp (the band had a couple of temporary stand-in bassists, in the meantime), and the band has been touring quite a bit around the country. [2/4/99]

THE WESTERN CIVILIZATION: Whoa. I should probably note straight off that I never-never-never put bands up on this list merely on the strength of a couple of MySpace songs. (Well, almost never, anyway.) I usually try to at least see a band before I put 'em in here, just because, well, that's been my general rule since this site started. Of course, these days I get out of the house a lot less, so I find myself feeling the need to bend/break the rules somewhat -- what the hell, I wrote the damn things, so why not?

At any rate, local indie-pop/rock quintet The Western Civilization can claim partial credit for me throwing the old rules out the window. I first heard the band on the recent Mia Kat Empire comp and found myself mesmerized by the very first song, "Love Struck Angel," so much so that I almost immediately jumped to their MySpace site and frantically listened to every track they've got up. And man, are they good.

It's crazy, but despite their relative youth, these five kids -- if MySpace is to be believed, it's Anthony on drums, Gretchen on vocals/keys/guitar, Rachel on vocals/guitar/beats, Reggie on vocals/guitar/bunch of stuff, and Sara on bass -- have managed to meld electronics, teenage heartbreak, and shimmery-sweet twee-pop into a melancholy, gorgeous whole that evokes the best moments of that whole Saddle Creek/Omaha scene while remaining pretty unique. There are some nice Azure Ray moments here with Gretchen and Rachel, and Reggie's voice brings to mind both Conor Oberst and The Elected's Blake Sennett in its fractured vulnerability.

Seriously, I'm liking this stuff, especially the boy/girl interplay on "Love Struck Angel" and "Bruise the Paper"; the music's sad and bitter, but still driving and hooky in the best possible way. These folks are so together, so right-on good that it's ridiculous -- they make me look back to my own band days and shudder... Apparently the band's debut CD will be out later this month (March '07), and I, for one, will be eagerly looking forward to it. Keep an eye out, people, because if there's any justice in the world, The Western Civilization will be gracing hipster magazine covers in the not-too-distant future. [3/10/2007]

ARTHUR YORIA: Okay, so this is embarrassing. Not only is H-town rocker/all-around nice guy Arthur Yoria undoubtedly one of the best singer/songwriters in the city, but we've even done an interview with him...and yet I've somehow neglected to put him up here in the "Feature" section 'til now. Sorry about that, Arthur...

At any rate, going back to the quickie description above, Yoria is an insanely talented songwriter, with a gift for crafting romantic, desperate-sounding, yet decidedly in-your-face songs. The closest comparison would be to Austinite David Garza, but it sounds like that's pretty much accidental (Yoria says he's not real familiar with Garza's music). There's hints of other stuff in there, of course, like the buoyant, overdriven-guitars pop of The Stereo, the '70s twinges of bands like the Push Kings or Teenage Fanclub, the high-pitched quirkiness of Eels, and even the delicate folkiness of Elliott Smith or Nick Drake. Put all together, it makes for a great combination, not to mention a fairly unique sound in Houston's musical landscape. The only other person who can really come close is in fact a friend of Yoria's, fellow popster Tody Castillo.

Yoria also happens to be one of the hardest-working musicians in Houston, apparently. He's freakin' everywhere, seriously, playing nonstop at everything from downtown music festivals to teeny-tiny coffeehouses (and the songs, to his credit, seem to do well in both settings). Luckily, it seems like it's begun to pay off -- he's had songs pop up in episodes of The O.C., on MTV shows, and even a couple of indie flicks (Breaking Dawn and There Can't Be Nothing; haven't seen either one, sorry...), his tracks are doing well at Garageband.com, and he keeps getting nominated for Houston Press Music Awards (he won back in '02). Watching him play around town over the past couple of years, it's been hard to imagine the guy not making it big eventually...

If you can't catch one of his shows, he's got a fair amount of music floating around out there, as well. There's the latest (and, in my opinion) best album, I'll Be Here Awake, his similarly-excellent debut EP, 2003's can you still look adorable, and a new Spanish-language EP, Suerte Mijo. That's on top of a couple of tapes and CDs he put out with his old bands The Jeepneys and Lavendula (which weren't bad, but pale in comparison to Yoria's more recent stuff); the bands are no more, but the curious out there can occasionally find copies of the albums at places like Cactus or Sound Exchange.

I'd go for the "new" stuff, though, myself, or -- better yet -- go see the guy do his thing live. There aren't that many musicians or bands out there about whom I honestly think, "holy crap, this guy's going to be huge!", but Arthur's one of 'em. [11/10/05]

YOUNG MAMMALS: Damn, that energy is incredible. It took me a while to really get into Young Mammals (formerly known as The Dimes, before some punk-ass bunch of Oregonians threatened 'em over the name), but after finally getting to see them full-force at the Houston Press Awards showcase, rocking and sweating and twitching in front of a beaming, exuberant, beyond-capacity crowd, I'm absolutely, completely hooked.

And like I said, it's largely the energy -- whatever they're doing, whatever song they're playing, the Young Mammals crew throw off this frantic, nervous, endearingly edgy vibe that makes the music sound utterly fucking urgent, like the band's lives depend on them playing what they're playing at that exact second. The only indie bands I can think of that channel that kind of urgency are The sadly-departed Anniversary and maybe (maybe) fellow "A"-band The Arcade Fire. Very few other bands come close, although singer/guitarist Carlos Sanchez's spoken-shouted vocals also bring to mind icons Talking Heads, The Pixies, & Modest Mouse, all of whom own their own brand of important-but-you-don't-know-why energy.

Plus, the songs themselves are fucking beautiful, with Sanchez and fellow guitarist Cley Miller's heart-rendingly pretty (yet off-kilter), Jim Wilbur of Superchunk-esque guitar lines all weaving in and out of one another, drummer Iram Guerrero's fierce, propulsive drumming forcing things along, and bassist Jose Sanchez rumbling along beneath and anchoring the whole mess. The song structures come off as simple and basic, but when you listen more closely you start picking out more complex, interlocking pieces that throw the whole "simple pop song" thing utterly on its head. Young Mammals' music is like some crazy, intricately-fitted machine that looks like it really shouldn't work the way it does but ends up working perfectly.

I should note, by the way, that drummer Iram has got to be one of the best drummers I've ever, ever, ever had the good fortune to witness, either live or on record. His drumming's hard as hell yet still fluid, pushing the music forward inexorably like a barely-controlled steam locomotive barreling down the tracks. Sadly, he's leaving (left?) the band as of the fall of 2008, which makes me worry for the survival of the Young Mammals' sound. They're going to have a damned difficult time filling his shoes...

I'll keep my fingers crossed, though. These guys may be relative kids (they're all just out of high school, from what I understand), but they've somehow tapped into a sound that's both familiar and totally unlike what anybody else out there (esp. in Houston) is doing right now. If they lived in Brooklyn or Omaha, I swear to God you'd already know Young Mammals from CMJ & Pitchfork & Stereogum & what-have-you. Yes, they're that good. Hell, they're better; they could wipe the floor with a host of overhyped, flash-in-the-pan Tapes n Tapes clones and barely break a sweat.

There's not a whole heck of a lot out at the moment, unfortunately. I've got a hold of a copy of the band's awesome, awesome four-song EP as Young Mammals, courtesy of Cley, who somewhat disparaged the disc as "our old stuff" when he handed it to me, gratis; I've got my fingers crossed that that means the band's working on new stuff, but with Iram gone & YMs needing a new drummer, that might not happen real soon. I've also seen/heard about an earlier EP, by the by (the one with a camel on it that I've seen referred to as "the animal EP"), back when they went under the Dimes moniker, but I've never been able to get a hold of an actual copy.

And then there's the ultra-super-limited edition Grey Ghost release they did in 2007, but your only hope of finding one of those is to whack some über-hip indie scenester and then show up early at the posthumous record collection sale to get your blood-soaked fingers on their well-loved copy. (Or you could check out the band's Myspace page; up to you.) [8/26/2008]