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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Bless Us, Oh Lard
Damn fajitas and health-conscious eaters. They're killing traditional Tex-Mex.
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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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For Whom the Bell Tolls
Electronic monitoring may dramatically curb truancy. So why isn't DISD interested?
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Clubbed Over
Big changes are in store for Club Dada thanks to new ownership and a re-energized booking philosophy
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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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Bringing Sachse Back
21-year-old Dondria Nicole's on the verge of a major-label push as we prepare for the Observer's 20th Music Awards issue
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Blood, Sweat & Tears
The Red Blood Club's doors are closing—and Dallas' hardcore scene is all but dying with it
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Good Radio?
Indie rock finds a new home in Dallas' cluttered corporate radio landscape
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Recent Articles
Recent Articles by Cole Haddon
With so many major company-sponsored shows stopping in town this month, we're starting to wonder just how far this trend might go
Included: Freddie Mercury, Hank Williams and Patsy Cline
It's time for some dastardly rockers to change their ways
Brothers takes his time following up on Garden State fame
The leader of the world's best Hispanic Smiths tribute speaks
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Two Gallants
Tuesday, April 11, at Rubber Gloves
Published on April 06, 2006
Two Gallants' second album What the Toll Tells opens with a robust and bluesy foot-stomper a la Jack White's most infectious work called "Las Cruces Jail." While this two-piece band out of San Francisco share some of the Stripes' spare, lo-fi sound, they consistently get right what the Stripes like to get wrong. For one, Tyson Vogel's drums are not just clunky groundwork (like Meg's) that singer Adam Stephens' guitars and lyrics are built upon, but are, in fact, a crucial and emotive element of orchestrations that often drift past eight minutes. These epic-length numbers work so well because of Stephens' sometimes whispered, occasionally spoken and often howled narrative passages that, in their folk-tinged Americana, bear the holy stamp of Saint Dylan and actually originate ideas rather than regurgitate other musicians' like a certain Detroiter we all know.