Rock has become the preserve of the nice guy. The rock trio, once synonymous with the emotive and dynamic primal noise of the likes of The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Husker Du and Nirvana, is now populated by safe, catchy indie-by-numbers popsters such as Stereophonics.
They may claim that they’re not interested in world domination, but US underground infatuated Dublin rockers Angels Of Mons are nonetheless brewing up a storm on the Irish indie scene.
The Coldspoon Conspiracy have made steady progess in both Chicago and Glasgow in addition to their hometown, building up a substantial profile. The Dubliners have enlisted the recording savvy of Rod Bochnik, responsible for engineering duties with Smog, Shellac and The Breeders.
Martin Corrigan, who once read The Trial backwards on-stage, has given birth to an eponymous band and debut album. And, as you might expect, it’s a little bit different.
In a sense, ATP is an anti-festival. Each year's 'curator' - the band who decide what other acts to invite - is willfully chosen on the grounds of their rejection or open denunciation of the mainstream music system
After a career barely spanning five years, there is a definite feeling amongst those who know about such things that POLLY
JEAN HARVEY is destined to be one of the true rock music greats. Her darkly visceral, sexual and lacerating work has struck a
raw chord, and made her the object of passionate adoration. But it has also cast her in the eyes of some as an
"axe-wielding bitch cow from Hell."
LIAM FAY travels to meet ze monsta, but instead finds a home-loving Yeovil lass who likes nothing better than gardening and whipping
up pots of rhubarb marmalade.
A special report on the arts in Northern Ireland which is alive and rocking with the whole gamut of cultural activity. Here James Elliott and Margaret F. Grundy give the lowdown on the province’s artistic and creative hub.
Goodbye 20th Century is a double-CD compilation of various Sonic Youth collaborations and reinterpretations, with a cast including Christian Wolff, John Cage, Takehisa Kosugi, Steve Reich and Pauline Oliveros and even Yoko Ono.
It’s early days for the band, and although right now, it seems unlikely that they’re going to topple any Premier League outfits, the world is still very much their oyster and I’d venture that they’ll swallow it whole at some point.
The first half-hour practically peels the paint off the walls; Conley and Prescott provide a relentless surge of thumping rhythmic pandemonium, whilst Miller coaxes wave after wave of skull-shattering distortion from his guitar.
