Prism Bitch Destroys Sister
Regional rockers from Boise and Santa also kill it
Music to Your Ears
"We're Not Worthy! We're Not Worthy!"
Wayne Campbell, the character created by Mike Myers on "Saturday Night Live"'s "Wayne's World" sketches, could have been based on Mike Trujillo. Like his NBC Doppelgänger, Albuquerque's Mike T. hosts a public access music show, worships hard rock and righteous babes with equal reverence, even sports long hair crowned with an ever-present baseball cap. Mike and Wayne both made their Public Access debuts in 1992.
Flyer on the Wall
You Write the Songs That Make the Whole World Sing
Just kidding. Sarah West, Freddy Raygun and Leah Black do. Learn how at the Songwriters Showcase this Thursday, Oct. 4, at Ben Michael's Café (2404 Pueblo Bonitio NW, at Rio Grande, 224-2817). Free and all-ages. (LM)
Seven-year-old Oscillation Electronic Music Festival rails against conformity
They Probably Are Giants By Now
A silver anniversary approaches the songwriting geniuses behind "Birdhouse in Your Soul" and "Particle Man"
In spite of their unorthodox sound and nerdy science- and history-based lyrics, They Might Be Giants managed chart toppers and radio play with the best of them. And they've been at it, fresh and inspired, for a quarter century. "I think most things that have been around for 25 years tend to have this safe quality to them. They were probably already slick in the first place," says John Flansburgh, one of two Johns that founded the band in 1982. "The most interesting stuff from our culture doesn't usually stick around that long."
Guitarist David Torn “magicked” dozens of hours of live studio improv (with altoist Tim Berne, keyboardist Craig Taborn and drummer Tom Rainey), condensing it down to 72 minutes and 45 seconds of astonishingly present jazz/electronica. Aggressively emotional, the compositions move through abrupt sonic shifts, as in the track “bulbs,” which opens with a techno bull in a china shop shift dreamscape shift acoustic interlude shift howling guitar of darkness. The burning fuses of Torn’s guitar lines set off conflagrations everywhere, and his mates are ready with the gasoline. Yet the anxiety and terror are sometimes subsumed in the contemplative peace of interstellar drift. [MM]