- Music Reviews
- September 11, 2020
Ice Age (Riding Easy Records). Review by Carl F. Gauze.
The Cult turns the House of Blues in Orlando into the House of Good Mojo, not only delivering a killer set themselves, but allowing for Florida fans to get their first taste of a brand new stage of Against Me.
Cashing in on the current classic albums craze, Styx returned to Melbourne, Florida to recreate two best-selling records in one hit-filled evening that had Chris Long enthralled.
Jeff Schweers buries this morbid, creepy, gag-inducing yet glossy coffee table tome about dead rock stars, where they died, and their final resting places.
Celtic punk veterans Dropkick Murphys rip though Orlando leaving beer-sodden green mohawks in their wake.
Matt Parish finds himself surrounded by lizard kings, not in an episode of Star Trek, but in the pages of Ben Fong-Torres’ exhaustive new photo archive of Jim Morrison and his merry pranksters.
Ditch this gimmick like the plague. It’s fucking bad, trailer park, crazy uncle, kind of shit. The snot rag doesn’t make sense. The gesture in itself is not particularly vile or sinister, it’s more bizarre like that kid who ate paste and boogers in second grade. AND RAVEN IS NO PASTE EATER!