Most Popular

  • DISD In the Hole
    Teachers get axed and parents fret as Dallas' school leaders scramble to cover a budget hole
  • Polygamy and Me
    Seven months have passed since the polygamist raid in Eldorado, but for one mainstream Mormon, the effects linger
  • Beer Is Good
    Texas law stifles state's craft brewers
  • How To Piss Off A Member Of Weezer
    Brian Bell isn't so hot on comparisons between past Weezer records and the latest
  • DISD's Confederacy of Jerks
    Extremely pushy parents—Latino, black and Anglo—must rise up to save DISD from itself

Recent Articles

Recent Articles by Darryl Smyers

National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Pinot Bizarre

    You won't believe the California wine industry's latest new-age craze.

    By Joe Eskenazi

  • Westword

    The Snowboard Bandits

    They lived for excitement, but the FBI got the final thrill.

    By Joel Warner

  • Seattle Weekly

    "Trash Fish"

    Chuck Bundrant built an unlikely seafood empire--with a little help from Alaska Senator Ted Stevens.

    By Laura Onstot

  • Village Voice

    The Transformation of Mike Bloomberg

    How a benevolent billionaire mayor ended up owning us all.

    By Wayne Barrett

Staggering Statistics

All of This and More (Shake It)

By Darryl Smyers

Published on August 24, 2006

Hailing from Cincinnati, this eccentric but muscular quartet features ex-Afghan Whigs bassist John Curley, but the soul of the group is singing guitarist Austin Brown. Brown's jittery personality, fiery lead work and darkly impressionistic lyrics make All of This and More, the band's sophomore effort, more than a sum of its classic alt-rock influences.

"I swear I'll take care of all of this tomorrow," Brown sings on "New Vocation," conveying the slacker mentality of Pavement, yet the music is informed by a harder muse, as if Television or Yo La Tengo was tackling the early songbook of The Who. Distinctly original, songs such as "We Celebrate Your Mistakes" and "Underneath the Carpet" reflect a Midwestern, urban malaise that is as claustrophobic as it is propulsive, intense commentary on the confines of concrete and occupation. "Embrace your decay," Brown sneers on the song of the same name as Curley and drummer Joe King provide raucous support--the song itself a microcosm for the entire effort, observations of cracking roadways and shards of glass raining down from dilapidated skyscrapers. "No one tries to stall the progress of these mistakes," Brown concludes as the band festers on, celebratory in their cage, still optimistic in the uplifting power of noise.



Dallas Observer Insiders

  • Local food, music and news blasts
  • Free Stuff
Backpage.com