A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside an Enigma—I've been driving by this place at Seventh Street and Mountain for months, scratching my head and muttering to myself, “What? ... The Curio?” It's a little shed-house with a sign that proclaims, you guessed it, “The Curio.” Sometimes there are hippies juggling in the front yard. I'm stumped.
Mantis Fist has been around this block—many times. An Albuquerque hip-hop staple, the Fist has brought it's undefinable breed of underground hip-hop to our stages since 2000. "We've performed over 100 shows here," says Keith Connell. "We've played with everybody."
Although I’m sure they’re perfectly nice people, the music of Zann is truly terrifying. The fact that all the lyrics are in German isn’t helping, either. Be unnerved in the unlikeliest of venues this Thursday, Sept. 14, at Winning Coffee (111 Harvard SE, all-ages). The Coma Recovery, Dear Oceana and The City Is the Tower open around 7 p.m. A $5 donation gets you in. (LM)
It’s no revelation to say Albuquerque’s radio landscape is lacking. Amidst the ho-hum mainstream formats provided by the likes of broadcasting behemoths Citadel and Clear Channel, which still, as far as I’m aware, each own eight stations in town, there are a few relatively inconsequential public stations, and then there is KUNM.
Magen White stole her sister's guitar. Well, not "stole" exactly. Her sis played it for a couple months, then kind of forgot about it and left the guitar to languish in their house. Five years ago, Magen picked it up and started fiddling. She cut her teeth on bands like Dashboard Confessional and The Get Up Kids.
TVOR sounds like fun. Singsong hooks, overdubbed and wildly sung, fuzzy noise loops, perfect samples, kinked beats, it's fun—fun and accidentally beautiful. I pulled off the cellophane and gave it what I didn't realize would become a semipermanent home in my CD player. Tunde Adebimpe's got a set of pipes that makes me want to weep, drive really fast and ... play in the sprinklers, all at the same time. All sugar and rattle, his is a free voice, dead-on but always a little out of control. Adebimpe's restrained performance is the tar that binds Cookie Mountain's disparate elements.