The sound of The Bandmates’ The Buddha and the Alien is genteel psychedelic straight out of the 1960s and early 1970s. Self-produced by songwriters and vocalists Kimberly Cody and Susan Carson, the result is a bit self-indulg...
A c.d. with the title Hammer of the Honky-Tonk Gods, by a guitar player as hot for so many years as Bill Kirchen seems like it ought to rock out loud. That this one is also soulful and contemplative and still works is a tribute...
There are concept albums, and then there’s Shaolin Death Squad’s Intelligent Design.
The area’s only independent music store for rockers, Sessions Music slowly recovers from a robbery.
Almost a year ago, when Sessions Music first opened on White Settlement Road, owner John Zaskoda and a rotating cast of his music instructors would stand outside their door and watch doves circle and dive.
Blending some of the finest players from some of North Texas’ most formidable — and departed — bands, Ghostcar is an achievement of out-of-the-box experimentation. The group dabbles in body-moving groove as well as Latin ...
Our debit and credit columns just don’t add up.
Fort Worth isn’t the same place it was as little as five years ago. It’s more populated and developed, sure, but, more importantly, it now has an impenetrable resistance to being casually referred to as Dallas’ little bro...
Anne Feeney’s If I Can’t Dance ranges from traditional folk to rock ’n’ roll to rap to a Spanish ballad.
At what point does a fascination with childhood become just plain creepy?
I know I’m going to get a raft of shit from my boys at The Good Show (Sundays 9 p.m.-midnight, 88.7-FM/KTCU), but as a devout listener of terrestrial radio (commercial and public alike), I gotta give props to The EdgeR...
As with most blues, feel and sound matter more than lyrics. The words don’t always matter because the emotion in every real blues song is, in some way, about stumbling down an alley and hitting a wall you didn’t know was th...