Most Popular
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The Hard Lie
How former Ticket host Greg Williams destroyed the most dynamic duo in Dallas talk radio through drugs, deceit and disaffection
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American Girls
Crossing between American and Egyptian cultures, he Said girls made one deadly misstep: They fell in love
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The Dirt Doctor
How radio show host Howard Garrett pushed Dallas to the center of the organic gardening movement through passion, principle and molasses
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The Caretaker
One mother's crusade to better the life of her mentally retarded son and the system that failed him
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Our 20th Music Awards
1988-2008: Two Decades of DOMA
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Park City
Wanna go see a show around town? Fine, but you'll get a ticket in Deep Ellum. Maybe towed on Lower Greenville...
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Stand and Deliver
WIth No Deliverance, The Toadies revert to the bare bones of their past
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Big Willie Style
Willie Nelson doesn't have to continue performing—which makes his insistence to keep doing so all the more remarkable
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Morning Wood
My Morning Jacket is the best live band in the world
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They Shall Be Comforted
Friends and faith buoy the family of a slain Christian music producer
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Recent Articles
Recent Articles by Mikael Wood
A Little Bit Longer (Hollywood)
Moonswept (429 Records)
Monday, May 14, at the Granada Theater
Friday, February 2, at the Palladium Ballroom
The Hidden Cameras play Polyphonic Spree-esque church rock, with a naughty twist
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Atmosphere
November 29
Published on November 27, 2003
Two weeks ago in these pages I called "Shh," the unlisted closing track of Minneapolis hip-hop duo Atmosphere's new Seven's Travels, one of the year's best songs about tiny-town living (or at least midsize-town living that includes drinkable tap water and syringe-free playgrounds). That's true (I wrote it!), but what's truer is that the whole of Seven's Travels is actually about a smaller space: the complicated mess inside Sean Daley's head. As he's always done, Daley (who goes by the appropriately self-flagellating handle of Slug) uses his songs as an opportunity to sift through the remnants of the misadventures he calls relationships: a drunken stumble through a girlfriend's house in "Shoes," a drunken ode to "all the depressed women in the house" in "Good Times," a drunken trek across America in "National Disgrace." Travels' tour-diary device is a good one for Slug, since it applies a kind of internal logic to his anecdotal evidence; in "Denvemolorado" he drops into a deserted airport bar only long enough to consider picking up a woman sitting in the back. Sadly, Ant, Slug's gifted producing partner, doesn't tour, so it's up to DJ Mr. Dibbs to re-create Ant's sympathetic soul-bump settings onstage--a must if we're to take Daley as more than a whining rap brat.