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 Mikael Wood
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
Blue Collar (J/Allido)
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Kill Hannah, The Pink Spiders
Friday, February 2, at the Palladium Ballroom
Published on February 01, 2007
In eyelinered Chicago goth-pop wannabes Kill Hannah's sort-of hit "Kennedy," singer Mat Devine brags that he wants to be a Kennedy and, after living fast and breaking hearts and kissing the girls of centerfolds on the tongue, die young. We don't really believe Devine, because two songs later on that album (2003's For Never & Ever) he's talking about riding the Ferris wheel at Chicago's tourist trap Navy Pier. But he's still the star in this dope show, working a sexed-up androgynous wail that's way more effective than that Placebo guy's sugar-pill act. By dipping drumsticks into pogo-punk from the early '80s and splashing around in surf-rock guitars, the members of opening band Pink Spiders have avoided overdosing on pop-punk. The three boys behind the Bubblicious-meets-liquid-latex outfit serve up edgy yet playful music on their latest album, Teenage Graffiti, a disc in which they get their kicks shooting pure blues and classic rock 'n' roll into their veins.