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Recent Articles By Roy Kasten

National Features

  • City Pages
    Harassing the Harassers

    Avenging attorney Pete Barry turns the tables on aggressive debt collectors.

    By Jonathan Kaminsky
  • Houston Press
    Bootlegging Dr. Pepper

    Eight bucks a six-pack? A small price to pay for authentic, cane-sugar soda.

    By Robb Walsh
  • Phoenix New Times
    The Wrath of Wal-Mart

    The giant retailer screws over an elderly greeter who made the mistake of drinking a Coke at work.

    By Paul Rubin
  • Cleveland Scene
    Another Thing Comin'

    Rock Star painted him as a wannabe, but Ripper Owens is doing better than ever.

    By Denise Grollmus

When last we heard from Matthew Ryan, he was getting in touch with his inner Eno, electro-soundscaping the peripatetic songs he writes in his own blood and sings like he's half-choking on same. If From a Late Night High Rise is his most difficult record, a middle finger to his Nashville outsider reputation, his latest album, Matthew Ryan vs. the Silver State, is the live-sounding, collaborative work of a band. It's a hell of a band, one that swings like the Waterboys and churns like the Blue Nile while bringing it all back to a foreclosed and fuzzed-out Dylanesque home. And only a writer of Ryan's vision would, in a season of permanent war, turn "Dulce Et Decorum Est" into a song of purely personal, purely brilliant ravages. He remains an essential American voice.

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