No, it's got zero to do with music (except maybe in that the best music's dependent on free speech), but it's still the worst news I've heard all week, so... Legendary Texan journalist and hellraiser Molly Ivins passed away today, and I can scarcely believe it.

The lady was larger-than-life, one of the few people out there in the public eye when I was younger who showed that you could indeed be a Democrat, be liberal, and still be a true-blue Texan. She was smart, sarcastic, and funny as hell, and was, in my mind, one of the most incisive social commentators of our time. She always reminded me of my mom, if Mom would ever talk politics. She somehow made even the lowest, sleaziest Texas political manuevering painfully entertaining.

So, to Ms. Ivins, I'd just like to say thanks, and take care. You were (and are) one of the Great Ones.

Labels: H-Town News

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Anybody who knows much of anything about indie-rock or punk knows who J. Robbins is. The guy's an honest-to-God icon in the indie/punk/hardcore scene, dating from his days in Government Issue and Jawbox (one of my all-time favorite bands, as well as one of the most intense, awe-inspiring live bands I've ever seen) up through his Burning Airlines project, the bazillion production jobs he's done for bands like The Promise Ring, The Stereo, Hey Mercedes, Murder by Death, or Jets to Brazil, and now into his latest band, Channels. The man is a hero, seriously. He makes me feel like a slacker and a half.

Like most rockers his age in the scene, though, J.'s a grown-up these days -- he's married, and he and his wife, Janet Morgan, had a cute little baby boy, Callum Robbins, back on January 27th of last year. And here's where it gets sad. It turns out that Cal has something called Type 1 Spinal Muscular Atrophy (Type 1 SMA, for short; it's also known as Werdnig-Hoffman disease). I don't get all the clinical details, but it sounds bad and involves the brain's control of the muscles that let him swallow, breathe, move his head, and crawl. It can be fatal; most kids with the disease die before they turn 2. If the little guy survives into his third year, he'll never walk, and he'll most likely never have a normal life. There's no cure for SMA, just a long, bleak road full of therapy and heartache. Whatever happens, the financial burden is going to be crushing -- we're not talking people who have all-inclusive family health insurance, here, but an self-employed recording engineer/producer who's basically on his own.

Well, that's not completely true -- Robbins and family aren't on their own, really, because they've got people like you and me. I have to admit that this affects me in two different ways, both as a parent of a 2-year-old and as a fan of Robbins' work over the years. Cal's a cute little fella, going by the pictures, and since having my own little munchkin around, I've gotten all sappy and wussy; stuff like that just melts my heart. Now, I know that there're a ton of sick kids out there, and they all deserve to be helped, but heck, I can't do that, so I've got to be a little choosy. Jawbox, in particular, was one of the defining bands of my college days, and was probably the band that most made me want to be in a band myself -- J. Robbins' music has meant a lot to me, and I'm eternally grateful for that.

So, given that, here's the chance for me to give something back to somebody who's given so much to me. I'm going to donate a chunk of my hard-earned cash (hopefully more later on, but I haven't gotten paid lately, so y'know) to J., Janet, and Cal -- they've got PayPal set up on the DeSoto Records Website, or you can just send 'em a check at the address they've got listed there. If you, like me, feel a debt to Robbins, or if you just want to help out a family in need, then check out the site and give as much as you want to or can. You can't help everybody, no, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to help at all.

Labels: Cool Web Junk, Musical Crap, Things To Do

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Hey, all -- meant to post when all the stuff went up late-late-late Friday night/Saturday morning, but I was too damn wiped out... As of yesterday, we've got some new stuff up here on the ol' e-zine, including our first-ever attempt at year-end Top Ten Lists (for 2006, naturally); your humble editor/publisher guy threw his into the pile, as did co-publisher Marc and writers Brigitte, Justin, Josh, and David H. (whose ever-present bile we think perfectly caps off the whole mess).

On top of that, we've also got a passel of new reviews online: One Night Band, Turn Blue, Dead Voices on Air, Gist, Frida Hyvönen, The Mall, & the Lujo Recs Happy Together comp. Enjoy 'em, & there'll be more up soon...

Labels: Interviews, Reviews

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Damn, this pisses me off. The good people over at HouStoned are reporting that locals Stephen Reynold and the Texas Two were robbed a few nights back. It seems somebody broke into their rehearsal space (which also happens to be the garage and amp workshop of bassist Chad Hawkins) and swiped a bunch of expensive new recording gear and the band's P.A....leaving behind some more-valuable amps and guitars. Relatively-kind thieves? Maybe, but what it probably means is that whoever it was had been there before and knew what they wanted. Ergo, the people behind it were more than likely local musicians themselves.

Folks, how much of a fucking low-ass bastard do you have to be to break into a fellow musician's home and rip them off? I think the fact that they targeted Hawkins' house makes me the angriest, honestly; it's not like they'd parked a trailer with all their gear in it outside a club and got robbed by some jerk who saw an opportunity to make some cash and took it. This sure sounds like it was thought up in advance by some greedy band-playing asshole who happened by the amp shop, saw something they wanted, and came back at night to steal it.

Now, I'm not trying to say that robbery of all kinds isn't reprehensible, but seriously, don't H-town bands have it hard enough already, without having to worry about their peers stealing from them and crippling their attempt at recording and producing their music? Fuck. If anybody has a clue who the larcenous pricks behind this might be -- go to the HouStoned post for a list of what was taken -- let Chad Hawkins know, at 832-512-6626.

On the positive side, if this really is musicians stealing from musicians, that might mean they want the recording gear for themselves, rather than just snatching it to hock it. If your shady brother/drinking buddy/muso pal mysteriously shows up one evening with a brand knew gold condenser microphone, make sure you ask 'em where they bought it...

Labels: H-Town News

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Right, so I'm normally fairly merciless when it comes to bands that don't send us actual CDs to listen to when they e-mail or send promo stuff -- sadly, despite this being the age of the free-floating MP3 file and all that junk, I'm a relatively low-tech boy at heart. I generally need to have a CD in hand before I can really give the music a good listen. (Which is weird, I'll admit, since I do download random tracks from that Internet thingy and plunk 'em on my iPod fairly regularly...)

Marfa punk-poppers The Pleasures of Merely Circulating dodged the bullet, though, by sending not a CD but a beautifully-done full-size poster of their show on heavy-duty poster paper, rolled up in a big cardboard tube and everything (my two-year-old daughter finds the tube very entertaining, thanks). So I figured, "what the hell?" and meandered over to their MySpace page. No tracks to download, unfortunately, but hey, it's a slow day at work, so...

The verdict? Not half bad. Raw but still tuneful garage punk-y rock -- think The Jam's angrier bits plus nicely sneering female vocals, or maybe the Eyeliners with more sarcasm. "Loners," in particular, is an entertaining track, enough to make me wonder if they've got an actual album out. Hey, maybe this MySpace thing is kinda useful, after all...

Oh, and the band'll be playing here in town tonight, Fri., Jan. 26th, up at Super Happy Fun Land in the Heights (which is almost worth the price of admission for the sheer Quirk Factor alone), along with Adam Bork (who apparently used to be known as "Earthpig"; nope, no idea) and locals Nowhere To Walk. If this sounds like your kind of deal, stop on by & check 'em out.

Labels: Pseudo-Reviews, Things To Do

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I have to admit that I was a bit skeptical the first time I saw the show listed: Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick, Kool Moe D, and Doug E. Fresh, all on the same stage? Seriously? I had this sick feeling that this was probably some kind of tease for a DJ event where they sneakily left off the "spinning music by..." or "featuring the music of..." -- I've been suckered by a few of those in the past.

But nope, this was apparently a real-deal show...'til the promoter backed out, that is. I heard the show had been canceled and was again skeptical (with this stuff, you never can tell), but lo and behold, it's no longer listed on the Warehouse Live site. Shit. I was thinking of dragging my homebody ass out of the house for that one; I mean, these guys can't have too many tours left in 'em, right? Ah, but it's not to be. Damn.

(Thanks to Josh W. for the heads-up -- I promise I'll get back to you soon, dude...)

Labels: Things To Do

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Dang it -- I can't believe I didn't check it sooner, but I just happened by Houston Calling only to spy a mildly-revamped poster for the speedily-rescheduled Houston Calling Happy Hour show...which happens to be tonight, Monday, January 22nd, over at The Proletariat. Same time (7-10PM) and same lineup: Blades, Mansion, and then Arthur Yoria. Good stuff, so come on out -- this time there's no looming Ice Storm of Hideous Death to use as an excuse...

Labels: Things To Do

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...here's a handful of Suspects tracks, lovingly ripped by your humble editor (with official permission from 'spects headman Bill Grady, naturally), all from either 1995's Ninety-Nine Paid or 1997's How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Ska. (Sorry, but I just never really got into the last album, Lost Along The Way, as much...):

"Caffeine" (Ninety-Nine Paid) [4.6MB]
"Right On Time" (Ninety-Nine Paid) [4.1MB]
"3-Eyed Fish" (How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Ska) [4.1MB]
"Goodbye Brown Eyes" (How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Ska) [4.2MB]

Plug time (albeit not for me): if you make it out to the show tonight at the Continental Club, I'd be willing to bet you can snag copies of at least the last two of the band's three full-lengths, plus maybe the Panic Button! EP. If you can't get there, though, and you still want some finely-aged Suspects-ness in your life, you can order 'em online here.

Labels: Things To Do, Things To Download

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Ah, yes -- tomorrow night (Fri., Jan. 19th), H-town ska legends The Suspects, the guys who pretty much defined the ska scene here for, hell, about a decade, will be reuniting for a heck of a show over at The Continental Club. Best of all, this'll be nearly a complete reunion, with just about every freakin' person who ever played in the band (a dozen or people, as I recall) getting on stage -- rumor has it that the only person who couldn't make it was drummer Claudio...

Y'know, even long out of college (I first went to see the band because a guy I knew in college, Andy Hocker, played with 'em and badgered me to come out and see his "new band"), these guys still have a special place in my heart. Beyond being responsible for Houston's once-exploding crew of ska bands, the 'spects introduced me to a ton of music I never would've heard otherwise (The Scofflaws, The Toasters, The Skatalites, Jump With Joey -- the list goes on), spawned a dozen or so spinoff bands (The Magnetic IV, Clouseaux, The Igents, etc.), gave me some of the greatest concert moments I've ever experienced, and provided the soundtrack for a big chunk of my post-college years. Even now, I love these guys; just thinking about this show makes me smile and yearn to break out my old Suspects CDs.

Anyway, there it is -- this is going to be a good, good, good, and most likely crowded, show. Yours truly's going to do his damnedest to be there, dancing like a fool to "Caffeine," "Goodbye Brown Eyes," and "Right On Time." Come on out if you can.

Labels: H-Town News, Things To Do

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Damn, this makes me sad. While I'm not a subscriber, I am an Amplifier fan (er, maybe make that "was"...), and the whole sordid pay-for-review mess depresses the hell out of me. Believe it or not, I completely and totally get the reasons/justifications Amplifier honcho Joe Joyce has thrown out there to defend his actions -- in short, that running a real-live paper mag costs real-live money, and more of it than you'd think.

Those who've begun to go slightly gray like yours truly (it's the stress, I swear...) may remember that while Space City Rock the Website has been around for a decade-plus, it really didn't come into its own 'til some foolish person (me) succumbed to prodding from possibly-sadistic friends (Josh, where the hell did you get to?) and launched Space City Rock the Print Zine. We ran the thing for four glorious issues before running smack into the solid brick wall of "holy fucking shit this thing is expensive to do." For us, it was a choice between Option A) quitting or Option B) going digital, and we chose the latter. So I get Joyce's financial pressures, I really do.

The problem, though, is that Joyce came up with Option C) tying reviews to ad sales. And no, I'm sure he didn't invent this thing on his own -- rumor has it that its happened for years -- but damn, man...talk about a deal with the devil. Like with good-old-fashioned radio payola, this kind of pay-for-play swap takes the love of music completely out of the equation. Which really sucks.

I'm not going to pretend I know what it's like to be in Joe Joyce's shoes -- this little e-zine's never forced me to take any drastic financial measures, and the money we deal in (hah!) is peanuts compared to the budget of even a relatively small indie mag like Amplifier. But it sure feels like I'm watching one of those money/fame/drugs-ruins-a-good-thing flicks (Scarface, Rockstar, Wall Street, take your pick) where the protagonist lets those evil Outside Influences push them into mortgaging the things they really love. Unfortunately, this ain't the movies, it's reality, and the hero's not going to come to his senses and throw it all aside to keep it all about the music, man. And that's a damn shame.

Labels: Musical Crap

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Yep, new stuff up on the site -- there's a fairly, um, illuminating interview w/Mark Adkins of SoCal punk icons Guttermouth (be warned: it ain't strictly P.C., but that's Adkins for you...), plus reviews of Ferocious Eagle, Paleo, The Transit War, Nic Garcia, 24hourflu, and Million Dollar Mouth. Enjoy; more next week...

Labels: Interviews, Reviews

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Just a quick little note to let all & sundry know that our RSS feed finally appears to be working. Just plug http://www.spacecityrock.com/scrblog.xml into your Google homepage or whatever other RSS reader/aggregator you use, and voila, you've got our latest blog-type musings at your fingertips...

Labels: Admin Stuff

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Argh. So I've finally got all the "real" blog-type stuff set up, we've republished the whole shebang...and now posts from nearly five years ago are appearing at the top like they're new. The hell? Ignore the old-old-old stuff, folks -- the dates on the actual blog posts themselves are correct. Sorry for the mess...

Labels: Admin Stuff

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No, it ain't Jeff Mangum doing some sort of half-assed Neutral Milk Hotel reunion, but don't let that dissuade you -- tonight Jeremy Barnes, former drummer of NMH, will be performing at The Proletariat as A Hawk and a Handsaw, and from what I've heard in the past from 'em/him, it'll be well worth checking out. The music is "folk" of a sort, with bits and bobs from what sounds (to me, at least) like Turkish music, Gypsy craziness, and Celtic melody floating around in there. I'm reminded weirdly of the soundtrack to Everything Is Illuminated, and that ain't no bad thing.

Plus, the band's playing with locals Two Star Symphony (excellent, excellent) and The Mathletes (who are a strange little beep-pop deal but are still somewhat intriguing). You can't go wrong, seriously. I can't make it this evening, myself, but go check it out. (And yes, you should also try to dance to it. Please.)

Labels: Things To Do

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Just because I'm a natural-born skeptic, I find myself shaking my head and grumbling under my breath every time the weatherpeople promise horrific ice/wind/mud storms. I mean, c'mon, doesn't anybody remember last fall, when the Mother of All Hurricane Seasons was proclaimed to be nigh? (It's since been pushed back to next fall, naturally. More time to stock up on batteries and duct tape now, right?) It was bad enough when every other night gave us a new level of Terror Alertedness; now we've got Scary Weather Alertedness to keep us in a perpetual state of media-fueled paranoia.

So personally, I kind of doubt that much disastrous is going to happen here in H-town. I could be wrong, but really, it's just some cold wind and rain -- no hurricane, no blizzard, no tsunami in sight. That said, it seems fairly likely that 90% of Houston will stay safely locked indoors tonight, which is why David C., SCR contributor and maestro of the excellent-excellent-excellent local music blog/site Houston Calling has decided to cancel tonight's show at The Proletariat.

Sad, I know, particularly because it promised to be a damn good one, with Arthur Yoria, Mansion, and Blades. But Ma Nature has decreed that it ain't happenin', folks, so tonight's a night to get cozy on the couch with some Netflix and a bottle of Jameson, instead (that's what I'll be doing, at least). We'll be sure to let you know when David reschedules his little soirée -- yours truly managed to get off the couch long enough to get to the first one, and it was very cool.

At any rate, stay safe, and watch out for panicked drivers who forget how to steer as soon as raindrops start to fall...

Labels: H-Town News, Things To Do

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Nope, I didn't forget -- for the New Year, we've got some new reviews up on the site, even a couple more than the usual batch: The Hidden Cameras, Shanna Kiel, Vopat, The Cringe, The Drugstore Cowboys, Quiet Life, Reel Big Fish, & The Thermals. More soon...

Labels: Reviews

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Hey, folks -- Jeremy, head honcho of the chaotic mess that is Space City Rock, here with some news about, um, the "News" section. After much agonizing & such, the "News" section as such will be fluttering off into the ether, to be replaced by (dum da da dum) the absolutely-official, really-truly SCR Blog.

Some of you might remember way back in the day (Nov. '02 to Dec. '05, to be precise) when yours truly had a political-type blog, Something's Got To Break, which I ended up being just unable to keep up with and had to quit updating. I'm not trying to do that again, don't worry -- the pundit thing is waaaaay too time-consuming, and being a dad to a frighteningly smart/fast two-year-old and doing my thing as a daytime worker bee (on top of the SCR stuff, mind you), I just can't do it.

I'm not entirely sure what this little blog will be like, but while it will probably hit on politics occasionally, it's going to primarily be a place where I (and maybe other SCR folk; not sure on that front) rant/rave about music, art, movies, entertainment, and -- of course -- the fair city in which this e-zine's based. I can't promise it'll all be mind-blowingly enlightening, but hopefully it'll at least be entertaining.

So...to kick this thing off, I'd like to point/prod folks towards the good folks at NonAlignment Pact. The basic idea is that a distinguished crew of seven people to post to the blog about music, film, society, and all the rest, each on a specific day. The folks behind it are practically a who's-who of H-town "experimental"/quirky music scenesters & artists (several of whom are expatriates) -- contributors Doug Dillaman and Justin Crane have both been writers for our happy e-zine, in fact, since way back at the beginning, Ramon Medina is the man behind the Linus Pauling Quartet, Kilian Sweeney used to front de Schmog (and about a million other bands), John Cramer was in the legendary Mike Gunn and Project Grimm (and at one point got one of his bandmates to not kick my ass, for which I am still thankful), and Heidi Bullinga used to run the show at KTRU. The only member I'm not real sure about is Carlos Anaconda, but I'm sure he's quite a fellow, as well (the "snake invasion" bit was damn funny). Plus, other local and non- Houston scenesters appear pretty regularly in the Comments (heck, I hadn't heard a thing about ex-Jinkie Matthew Thurman in years).

So, I've been checking out the NAP site recently, and despite reading and reading and reading, I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. These are folks who think a hell of a lot more than I do about art and are much better at expressing the way they feel about it; it's pretty humbling, really. Critical smackdown aside, though, just reading their blog has inspired me to get off my ass and get this blog finally off the ground (the shift from "News page" to "actual blog" has been in the works for longer than I'd care to admit).

At any rate, that's it; go read some fine-ass writin' on NAP, and then come back and read this and tell me how much mine sucks.

Labels: Admin Stuff, Cool Web Junk

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