Anne Feeney’s If I Can’t Dance ranges from traditional folk to rock ’n’ roll to rap to a Spanish ballad.
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...
At what point does a fascination with childhood become just plain creepy?
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...
For several years now, I’ve been bitching about the way Texas Music evolved into a bunch of one-trick pony posers.
Telegraph Canyon mines the past for new, novel sounds on All the Good News.
Even though he’s an easy-going guy, Telegraph Canyon’s Chris Johnson has some serious convictions. Last spring, he traveled to Washington, D.C., to take part in an anti-war protest. When uniformed federal “peacekeepers”...
When an interminably melancholic and arty rock singer-songwriter like Aimee Mann releases an album of yuletide tunes, you have to wonder: Whatever happened to Christmas?
Every once in a blue moon, a successful local band may find one of its singles in the Billboard Hot 100, a weekly chart of songs whose rankings are based on both airplay and sales.
Having a country-rock scene as thriving as the Fort’s spells great news for musical connoisseurs and not-so-great news for artists just emerging into it. In many cases, talent alone doesn’t cut it.
Let’s hear it for the girl! No, scratch that. Let’s hear it for the woman!