FOREWORD: I had spoken with Polvo’s Ashley Bowie at many New York City gigs on several occasions. His band played dissonant, angular post-punk gunk that lazy critics labeled math-rock and others saw as an extension of abstract prog-rock. Bowie was a laid-back dude with no pretensions. Alongside several better-known bands, Polvo was part of the zestfully varied mid-‘90s Chapel Hill scene. They broke up in ’98 after one final tour and Bowie formed the less popular Libraness, whose Yesterday…And Tomorrow’s

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FOREWORD: Who could boast about getting offered the singing spot in the Doors after Jim Morrison’s death while living long enough to form a band with his son? Kevin Coyne, that’s who. An artful folk-Blues singer-musician out of England, he drew artwork for his albums and published a few books, but did it mostly in obscurity. Incredibly, Coyne released over thirty albums from ’69 ‘til his death from lung disease in 2002. Though he suffered a nervous breakdown in ’85,

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FOREWORD: Spoon’s Britt Daniel is a really nice guy. After I met him in Manhattan to conduct an interview supporting his bands’ breakthrough album, Girls Can Tell, I caught up with him in Columbus, Ohio, while doing a Mid-America brewpub tour of Cincinnati, Louisville, Lexington, Indianapolis, and Columbus in ‘02.

I drove down High Street towards Ohio State University after quaffing brews at nearby Elevator Brewery and saw this red shed with the words ‘Spoon’ on it. I thought, ‘Holy

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FOREWORD: Drunken schizoid pop surrealist, Anton Newcombe, increased his cult-size audience fivefold when an honest portrayal of his fucked-up lifestyle, liquored-up asshole tendencies, and serious animosity for West Coast indie pop rivals, the Dandy Warhols, was exposed on award-winning documentary, Dig!

 You’ll see by the email interview he sent me below that he could be an inebriated jerk when the mood strikes. Though seemingly quite normal in a pre-interview email, Anton’s a moody SOB who must quit drinking and drugging.

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FOREWORD: Arguably the finest purveyors of easy listening ‘90s lounge-core, London’s stimulatingly minimalist combo, Stereolab, mixed gauzy ‘60s-styled French noir and classy ‘50s cocktail music with Teutonic kraut-rock machinations in a uniquely fun way.

The title of ’93 EP, Space Age Batchelor Pad Music, may describe their style best. Leaving behind a long trail of LP’s, EP’s, and singles, Stereolab really hit stride with the quick-to-follow prog-dipped phantasm, Transient Random Noise Bursts With Announcements.

‘96s Emperor Tomato Ketchup

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FOREWORD: Fun-loving Huntington Beach bohos, The Offspring, were less punk than fellow Californian contemporaries Social Distortion, Green Day, and Rancid, but their dirtied-up grunge-daubed arena rock competed better against Seattle heavyweights Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, and Stone Temple Pilots for ‘90s mainstream rock radio airplay.

‘94s hugely successful Smash featured the tempting dare, “Come Out and Play,” and even better, “Self-Esteem,” which salaciously summed up Generation X’s passive-aggressive plight. Though ‘97s long overdue Ixnay On The Hombre couldn’t compare, it

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FOREWORD: Royal Trux vocalist Jennifer Herrema was responsible for making the drawn-out undernourished ‘heroin chic’ look popular. Of course, as a former heroin user, and proud of it at the time, Herrema and long-time musical partner, Neil Hagerty (who’d played in Jon Spencer’s Pussy Galore), perfectly fit the part. Royal Trux ruff ‘n ready ’88 double-disc, Twin Infinitives, completely turned heads when it came out. Then, ‘93s indelible Cats And Dogs, ‘95s Thank You, and ‘98s Accelerator set the stage

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FOREWORD: New York City’s scrappily experimental Jazz-funk trio, Medeski Martin & Wood, inventively enjoined hip-hop rhythms and jam band sauntering to its eclectic musical stew. When I caught up to them at Manhattan’s enormous Hammerstein Ballroom in ‘97, I saw one overdosed hippie, two naked large-nippled girls, and drank three Heineken beers as they played to a capacity crowd. They’ve continued to release many live, acoustic, or studio LP’s since. MMW’s members have offered their services to many artists, including

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FOREWORD: Working class Irish folk-rock combo, the Saw Doctors, gained a huge international cult following thanks to exuberantly festive live shows. In New York, they sold out Irving Plaza countless times. I saw ‘em there during autumn, ’97. Since then, they’ve released infrequent studio recordings such as ‘98s Songs From Sun Street, ‘01s Villains?, and ‘06s The Cure. I interviewed co-leader Davy Carton to promote their durable compilation ’97 compilation, Sing A Simple Song. This article originally appeared in

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FOREWORD: I first saw jolting Jersey jammers, Monster Magnet, play live at Irving Plaza in the mid-‘90s. I was amazed by the flexible gumby-like bodily contortions singer-writer Dave Wyndorf could manage while still spitting out venom inside metal-edged arena rock tunes.

After some ’89 demos and a cheap Glitterhouse Records EP, these evil space rockin’ metal-plated combatants made ‘92s undeniable stoner rock doctrine, Spine Of God. But in all honesty, it wasn’t until ‘93s Superjudge that I became aware

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Victoria Williams / The Bottom Line / February 5, 1999

Dressed hippie-chick casual for this special Bottom Line industry showcase, fragile-voiced pianist-guitarist-banjoist Victoria Williams assembled an adaptable Classical-folk ensemble (with a vibraphonist to boot) to complement her sweet childlike sentiments and sublime imagery.

Williams’ idiosyncratic singing caresses choice covers and several serene gems off her recently released Musings Of A Creekdipper. Although outwardly appearing ditzy and naïve, she assuredly orchestrated the on-off band through affectionate and earthy compositions without…

FOREWORD: I met peerless glam-punk photographer, Mick Rock, at a downtown Manhattan studio on a rainy night in 1998. Afterwards, I gave him an herb-induced ride uptown. He was a sweet guy who made a living shooting pix of famous glam-rock and punk idols – not knowing at the time these artists would be the cultural centerpieces they became. Though he nearly died from two decades of cocaine abuse, Rock’s still with us. This article originally appeared in Smug Magazine.

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