Blogs
  • Boeing vs. Airbus: The Winning Bird Might Be Too Big
    04:12PM 03/12/08
  • Does It Offend You, Yeah? at the Fader Fort
    07:07PM 03/12/08
  • Is Red Kaput?
    05:55PM 03/12/08
  • This Is Hawkwind -- Do Not Panic
    06:08PM 11/09/07
Recent Articles

Recent Articles By Annie Zaleski

  • Sleep State
    8 p.m. Saturday, February 9. Lemp Neighborhood Arts Center, 3301 Lemp Avenue.
  • Soft
    9 p.m. Tuesday, February 12. The Bluebird, 2706 Olive Street.
  • Lloyd Dobler Effect
    9 p.m. Monday, January 14. Bluebird, 2706 Olive Street.
  • Career (Remix)
    The trials and tribulations of R. Kelly.
  • The Aviation Club
    9 p.m. Friday, January 4. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Avenue.

National Features

  • Houston Press
    "It Was Like an Armageddon Movie"

    For days after Hurricane Rita, a Texas prison was hell on earth.

    By Chris Vogel
  • SF Weekly
    The Candidate

    Our columnist knows Ralph Nader's running mate all too well.

    By Matt Smith
  • The Pitch
    How Not To Be a Rap Star

    First of all, lay off the Ecstasy.

    By Nadia Pflaum
  • Village Voice
    Project Runaway

    What becomes a gossip columnist most?

    By Michael Musto

Ever get the feeling that modern rock is now all about one-upmanship? The Killers are reaching for Springsteen's lofty heights. Panic! at the Disco is augmenting its stage show with a veritable burlesque troupe. And emo heroes such as Taking Back Sunday are slapping on enough production gloss to kill Stock, Aitken and Waterman. But in the process of reaching for bigger and better — and ostensibly more profound — things, these baby bands inevitably disappoint. Take My Chemical Romance, whose first two albums were gloriously unhinged dark-punk masterpieces beholden to the Misfits, Sabbath and AFI. Tragically, the New Jersey quintet's latest, The Black Parade, is weighed down by so many ridiculous trappings — glammy piano, overblown power ballads, slick midtempo rockers — that it sounds bloated rather than triumphant, generic where it should be groundbreaking. Even worse, the group's grandiose artistic statements and pop hooks recycle tired musical ideas: Aerosmith's bluesy shambling ("House of Wolves"), Alkaline Trio's darkness ("This Is How I Disappear") and, as has been widely discussed, Queen's bombast ("Welcome to the Black Parade"). Parade might have fared better not taking itself so seriously; just listen to "Teenagers," a hilarious, catchy, Georgia Satellites-style (no, really) ditty about adolescence.

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