Nothing against Harper's magazine, but HearSay doesn't turn there for rock criticism, let alone rock criticism of North Texas bands. So imagine HearSay's surprise when your writer opened this month's issue and read "War of the Worlds: Part One -- Big World: How Clear Channel Programs America," a rather breezy (by Harper's standards) cover story on Clear Channel's evil plan for world domination that includes a brief though funny description of Denton's own Riverboat Gamblers in action in a Philly club. The writer, Jeff Sharlet (an editor, by day, at the spiritually skeptical KillingTheBuddha.com), wears the proper rock-crit 'tude well. "The headliner was a band called the Dragons, best known for their album Rock Like Fuck," Sharlet writes, "but the night belonged to the opening act, the Riverboat Gamblers." Finally, the 150-year-old magazine for which some of the greatest men and women of letters of the modern era have written -- from Mark Twain to Tom Wolfe -- is speaking HearSay's language. Your columnist might even renew his subscription.

All this isn't to say that the story wasn't really scary, 'cause it was -- really, really scary. What we eventually learn, after mention of the Gamblers, is that Clear Channel is trying to make the process by which local bands get into venues and certain kick-ass clubs across the country as hostile, complicated, and difficult as getting on commercial radio. Now let that sink in: As if monopolizing commercial radio isn't enough, Clear Channel now wants complete control over live, local music venues. That's some scary, scary shit.

In the story, the Denton boys (unfortunately) represent the idea that, yes, a monster as stupid and bereft of good taste as Clear Channel can -- in counterpoint to spinning Evanesuck and Suk 41 every hour, on the hour, on the radio -- offer "good" live music in clubs (though HearSay and Weekly reporter-at-large Ken Shimamoto largely agree that the Gamblers' music is about as memorable as 53 pages of Proust in his native French). In the Gamblers' defense, HearSay will say that it's damned near impossible to make a living gigging without running into a few Clear Channel suits now and then.

The good news: We Metroplexers don't have to sweat Clear Channel so much. Unlike in a lot of other similarly sized cities, Clear Channel's entertainment presence in the Fort Worth-Dallas area is rather modest. The only Clear Channel-owned venue in the Metroplex is the Smirnoff, and a mere six radio stations are all that belong to the media conglomerate in these parts.

Yeah, someday, all of us scenesters might be faced with the decision to either fight CC or join 'em, but, until then, we'll try to enjoy our Riverboat Gamblers guilt-free.