René Spencer Saller

Untitled Document Of all the acoustic guitarists to glom on to the great John Fahey, Glenn Jones might have the most cred. He had the honor of actually collaborating with the late master, on 1996’s The Epiphany of Glenn Jones, and could claim him as a longtime friend. Jones, the leader of Cul de Sac, an […]

Untitled Document Was there ever a man more aptly named than Andrew Bird? Fine-boned and gracile, with a long, elegant nose and alert dark eyes, he has a distinctly avian beauty. Despite his fragile appearance, he’s a tireless performer, migrating from tour stop to tour stop with the freakish vigor of his feathered brethren. He’s […]

Untitled Document Afrobeat, the percolating, polyrhythmic, politically minded big-band dance music most closely associated with the late Nigerian maestro Fela Anikulapo Kuti, has always been a fusion form. Rooted in traditional Yoruba music, it incorporated a host of styles from the African diaspora, including American jazz, soul, and funk. Think of it as the silver […]

Untitled Document The problem with the phrases “angry young man” and “pub rock,” both of which seem to be mandatory in any discussion of Graham Parker, is not that they’re obsolete but instead that they’re meaningless. “Pub rock” was stupid from the outset, a tautological catch-all for the sort of music you might hear in […]

Untitled Document Although it comes as a blow to our national pride, we should probably just admit it: The best soul album of 2007 may very well be a product of Britain. Meet Amy Winehouse, a 23-year-old white Londoner whose alarmingly skinny frame seems incapable of supporting her huge bouffant hairdo, much less the mountains […]

Untitled Document It’s somewhat misleading to say that Now It’s Time represents the return of Tarnation, the seminal Western-noir band that Paula Frazer fronted in the 1990s. Tarnation was never really a band so much as a concept, with Frazer the lineup’s only constant. Moreover, even though the San Francisco-based singer/songwriter has been recording under her […]

Untitled Document The Search, Son Volt’s fifth album, doesn’t shy away from heavy subjects. Among its themes are stem-cell research, FBI wiretapping, global warming, gentrification, war profiteering, and methamphetamine addiction — not exactly a recipe for cheer and also no great surprise to anyone at all familiar with Jay Farrar, the band’s singer, songwriter, and […]

Untitled Document Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips, possibly the hottest middle-aged people on the planet, are back with Back Numbers, an album that’s almost as pretty as they are. Grieving Luna fans can’t be blamed if the occasion seems bittersweet, however. It’s hard not to wonder whether the excellence of the new CD is a […]

Untitled Document The Internet giveth, and the Internet taketh away. Under these harsh new conditions, the buildup-to-backlash cycle is over in the blink of a blognerd’s eye. Consider the case of Lily Allen, the 21-year-old daughter of British actor/comedian Keith Allen. The younger Allen attained It Girl status by posting MP3s, cute pix, and orthographically […]

Untitled Document Who’s the biggest nerd in indie rock? One thing’s for sure: The competition has never been more cutthroat. Could it be the Decemberists’ Colin Meloy, the dorkling king of musical-theater buffs? Or maybe it’s a two-way tie between those old standbys They Might Be Giants, they of the dorm-ripened drollery and liberal use […]

Untitled Document Eleni Mandell might not be the best singer in the world, at least by American Idol criteria, but she’s got a voice to die for. More precisely, she has two killer voices: the singing kind and the writing kind. Both are exquisitely expressive, instantly recognizable, and so perfectly symbiotic that describing one necessitates describing […]

Untitled Document W hen it comes to zeitgeist, timing is all, and the so-called freak-folk scene, with which Noah Georgeson is perhaps unfairly associated, is due for a backlash. Already blogosphere wags are mocking Devendra Banhart’s dirty bare feet, the same feet they were kissing a year ago; how much longer before they sink their […]