The good old boys of Poor Man’s Whiskey, featuring former Cornmeal fiddler Allie Kral, kicked things up a notch at the Fox Theatre on Friday, June 14th with two full sets of northern California bluegrass-based rhythms. The show was billed as Poor Man’s Whiskey playing the music of Old & In the Way, an early seventies bluegrass super group featuring Jerry Garcia of Grateful Dead notoriety, bluegrass pioneer Peter Rowan, and a who’s who of string pickers in David Grisman, Vassar Clements, and Jerry Garcia Band alumni John Kahn.

You know what the world really needs? Another music festival. Just kidding of course, I’m very happy to be living in a day and age where this summer I have an outstanding choice of festivals with phenomenal lineups, plus the annual jump on the bus summer tours to choose from, all within easy drives from the NYC area. My only complaint festival wise is how uniform most of the lineups are. There’s a lot to be said for diversity, and with that in mind I have the perfect suggestion.

With the excitement over their 30th anniversary tour growing, Phish have whet the appetite of fans by offering up yet another brilliant archival release, a box set entitled Ventura.  This six-CD collection contains two full-length performances from the band’s 1997 and 1998 summer concerts at the Ventura County Fairgrounds in Ventura, California.  Both of these shows paint perfect pictures of just how well the

Upon first listening to Caroline Rose’s America Religious (releasing July 2), I found it fresh and catchy. On my second listen, I settled in and it opened up to me – or I to it. In the lyrics I found political and social commentary nestled into the metaphors, and a little bit more of a lead foot as I drove down the road. I found a friend in her music; one who thinks similarly to me and who cares about the big picture and all its little breath-beings.

Jon Hopkins has always been a bit of a journeyman in the music world. The British producer got his first gig as the keyboardist for Imogen Heap’s backing band, and has built up quite a resume from there.

It’s all too easy and lazy to be dismissive of cultural phenomenon especially when they become ubiquitous. For all I know Daft Punk might be my favorite band, but the fact that they’re referenced 500 times a day in my Twitter feed makes the likelihood of me ever listening to them extremely low. Also, when I walk into a bar or restaurant and there are low lit gas laps, $15 cocktails and bounteous amounts of creative facial hair worn by men in suspenders, I generally turn around and walk out before the door shuts behind me.

The Dank Train made a stop in Chattanooga, Tenn. on Wednesday, June 12 tearing up the local venue Rhythm and Brews.Hanging with the band before the show, an employee at Rhythm and Brews keeps hassling the Athens, Ga. band, Dank Sinatra, on their performance later that night.

Ryan Bingham has a musical style beyond his years.  Without looking, you'd think a weathered, country veteran was on stage strumming that guitar, with his gruff voice and the hard life he sings about.  Much to the contrary, he is a young, incredibly sexy musician. Bingham is not only a skilled lyricist with a voice made for country-folk music, he's also a master on the guitar.  Props to the roadie; Bingham switched guitars like a sorority girl switches purses:  almost every song required a new one.  And it's not just rhythm, Bingham

Shades of raw Buzzcocks in spirit and this distinguishable brand of Interpol-Strokes scenester amalgam in recurring riffs—adjusting their own description to account for the requisite self-romanticizing inherent in any young new band’s internal visions of their portrait—that’s Bad Cop more or less.The trio’s debut E.P. is grinded-down polish. Anarchy on synthetic drugs.

Maybe I’ve grown jaded and all, but lately the gimmicks and ploys and artificial soul spewing from some of these up-and-comers in the ‘industry’ (loose interpretation) have been dancing on nothing short of exhausting. Too much self-awareness, far too little genuine appreciation for the necessary steps on the ladder to iconic reverence. Folks wanna be first-off famous—you cannot fall in love with the rock stars, to paraphrase my favorite flick on the subject (you’ve seen it).