The 90s were a strange decade for music. It seems the catharsis for the laughable panache of hair metal, the unmistakable sheen of shameless power-pop outfits, and the homebrewed sincerity of hip-hop’s early years split into two dominant camps.
“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone?” Joni Mitchell asked in her 1970 single “Big Yellow Taxi.” Mitchell may have been singing about paving paradise to put up a parking lot, but her message applies just as well to the way in which we, as a society, tend to approach pop culture.
Before the time of Facebook and Twitter, of rip-off 3-D films and BlueRay, of Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift, there were the ’90s.
The University Jazz Ensemble, directed by John D’earth, played an engaging concert Feb. 23, showcasing a unique and varied sound that showed the audience a new and exciting type of jazz.
If you are brave enough for the lyrical liaisons of Thom Yorke’s voice or are willing to let your ears dive into Yorke’s consciousness, AMOK is crooning your name.
Don’t lie: whether you love her or hate her, you’ve probably seen at least one (or ten) Taylor Swift music videos. No matter how many times you’ve watched them, however, you may be missing out on some of the valuable life lessons Swift espouses through her videos.
The folk rock band Thao & The Get Down Stay Down originated in a town familiar to most University students — Falls Church, Va., or in other words “NOVA.” The group has since moved past its Commonwealth roots and is now based in San Francisco, but still remains relatively unknown after the release of their full length album We the Common.
There are few things more entertaining than a prodigious mandolin player. Chris Thile, mover and shaker of the Punch Brothers, is one such musician.
Life Is But a Dream, a new HBO documentary exploring the journey of Beyoncé Knowles-Carter as an artist, wife and mother, is a rousing and inspiring success story sure to appeal to both die-hard fans and new converts.
Even in a crowd of so-called hipsters, I entered the floor of the Jefferson Theater Feb. 4 with a sense of smugness unparalleled by any other concertgoer there.
When Ben Thornewill, the vocalist for the Philadelphia-born, Brooklyn-based trio Jukebox the Ghost, abruptly stopped playing piano mid-song during the group’s Feb.
By 10:30 p.m. last Thursday, the Jefferson Theater was ringing loudly with the sounds of the quintessential sweet spot of a bluegrass concert.
I have learned time and time again to never expect much from an awards show. This rings especially true for the Grammys, and I have reached the conclusion that their only redeeming quality is the occasionally spectacular performance by a well-seasoned or breakthrough pop artist.
Tegan & Sara occupy a precarious niche in commercial music — they aren’t mainstream but neither are they alt, hipster, post-funk or any other of the slew of labels available to musicians today.
In the four years between Local Natives’ debut album Gorilla Manor and 2013’s Hummingbird, the band noticeably underwent a lot of growth, both musically and emotionally.
Valentine’s Day is the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup of Hallmark holidays. Some prefer the smooth layer of chocolate, while others dive in for a delectable rush of peanut butter, but there are always the naysayers who can’t handle any strain of the sugar rush.
I sometimes find it astounding that a few short minutes of deliberately placed melodic notes and well-chosen words can so easily capture emotions universal to mankind.
Until last Wednesday night, I thought I was the only one raised on Citizen Cope’s “Sideways.” It was the first track on the first mixed CD that my first boyfriend gave to me.
If you were expecting to hear new material — or even beloved classics — on Destiny’s Child’s 2013 compilation album, Love Songs, you will be sorely disappointed.
As the opening half of Super Bowl XLVII dragged on, the only thing keeping me even mildly interested was Beyoncé’s looming halftime performance.
