Under the unassuming pseudonym, The Field, minimalist Swedish electronic music designer, Axel Willner, makes some of the most hypnotizing transcendental meditations and brusque instrumental contraptions currently making the rounds worldwide.

A brilliant laptop-toting tape-manipulating loop-sampling mastermind splattering cold robotic machinations onto lavishly warm hypnotizing euphoria, the formerly Stockholm-based architect corrupts majestically mellifluent processed sound-waves with surrealistic shoegazer-informed sonic droning (pioneered by ‘80s icons My Bloody Valentine and Jesus & Mary Chain) to create fascinatingly ambient symphonies.

The Field’s most popular…

Predating punk by a few years, the New York Dolls’ blues-y glamour rock bridged the gap between the Rolling Stones early ‘60s primitivism and the Sex Pistols late-‘70s ruff ‘n tumble amateurism. Lascivious androgynous singer, David Johansen, blurted out defiant lyrics with snot-nosed adolescent authority, creating a tremendous furor his frenzied combo magnanimously embellished. Wearing tight skinny-legged trousers and sporting a devilishly smirked grin, the charismatic Johansen was the perfect greased-up bubble-lipped swivel-hipped Mick Jagger clone posing as a diabolical…

Brother Ali, a highly regarded music hustler informed by old school hip-hoppers KRS-One and Rakim, relates tales of troubled youth on fascinatingly detailed magnum opus, The Undisputed Truth. Victimized at the hands of an immaturely irrational society unconscionably ill-equipped to deal with anybody deemed too weirdly preternatural, the pigmentation-challenged ghost-faced north-westerner seeks affirmation on his own terms. Contradicting the misconceptions aimed at a bald buck who’s a whiter shade of pale, the enterprisingly emancipated emcee peddles a tremendous cross-section of…

Clear-headed ‘ideas man’ Danny Barria is quick to acknowledge his Jersey roots. A graduate of Morris Catholic High School, the Dover native’s strict mother demanded he get a weekend job to keep busy. But at night, the curious Brit-pop admirer obsessively learned guitar. At 18, Barria headed to Philadelphia, attended college, and met future band mate Sonya Balchandani (bass-vocals). Upon moving to Manhattan’s increasingly expensive East Village thereafter, the pair got serious about both musical and personal endeavors. Now living…

It’s lamentable how often death provides meaningful stimulus for musicians of all stripes. Sometimes it redeems otherwise reluctant artists to dig deeper for that extra motivational spark that puts them over the top. Yet it’s a sad predicament understood all too well by New York-based acid house enthusiasts, Gang Gang Dance.

An early Gang Gang Dance comrade, Nathan Maddox, was struck to death by lightning on a Chinatown rooftop in ’02. Since then, the posthumous teen has provided inspirational guidance…

FOREWORD: Before I got to hang out with Guided By Voices pilot Bob Pollard a few times in New York during the next few years, I did this phoner with the celebrated Midwestern lo-fi craftsman. His casual humor comes along just fine in this interview to support ‘97s vibrant Mag Earwhig! Damn, this guy’s a lot o’ friggin’ fun. Wish he lived in Jersey. This article originally appeared in Aquarium Weekly.

Tragically disregarded by mainstream radio and relatively unknown…

Never expecting to set the world on fire, sojourning baroque Toronto ensemble, Broken Social Scene, begot an expansive lineage previously unforeseen north of the border. Out of this garden of earthly delights, guitarist Andrew Whiteman formed Apostle Of Hustle with Julian Brown (upright bass/ percussion) and Dean Stone (drums/ conga/ bongo/ Peruvian caja).

Indubitably, the carefree trio ambitiously merge an honest tapestry of ceremonial Caribbean, and sometimes, Brazilian influences, with tangible acoustic folk and indie pop. A momentous spiritual visitation

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FOREWORD: Inactive since ’02, L.A.’s Beachwood Sparks received indie pop and alt-Country notoriety for colorfully integrating Beach Boys harmonies with Byrds and Buffalo Springfield-related folk-rock. Formed by bassist Brent Rademaker (concurrent vocalist-guitarist with fab indie pop group, The Tyde) and guitarist Christopher Gunst (along with Rademaker, originally from respected ’90s outfit, Further), these West Coast denizens rely on ’60s-pop for inspiration. Their final studio recording, ‘02s Make The Cowboy Robots Cry, I have not heard. This article originally appeared in Aquarian Weekly.

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Radical anti-commercial Dadaist pranksters, Pissed Jeans, prove boisterous vertigo-inducing art-damaged delirium and grimy rough-hewn gruffness could still rule the subterranean jungle. Sordid passive-aggressive business professionals by day, they’d rather be stuck in the scummy muck of stinky broken-down clubs than relish the cushy comfort their restrictive money-making traditional jobs proffer.

Though Pissed Jeans call God’s Country home, these misanthropic non-conformists make a turbulent hell-bent racket the devil would dig way more than any heavenly divinity. Formed from the ashes…

FOREWORD: I haven’t heard from the Rosenbergs since Mission: You, a fabulous ’01 power pop entrée that created quite an underground buzz at the time. This article originally appeared in Aquarian Weekly.

Rosenbergs frontman David Fagin’s self-effacing wit surfaces quickly when I discover he’s busy with another call before we begin our interview.

“Maybe I should call later,” I tell him.

“No. I’m not busy. I’m just a typical loser who likes to hang out and watch…

FOREWORD: Newark-based hip-hop duo, Dalek (freestyling MC Will Dalek and sound designing producer Oktopus), make caliginous atmospheric ghetto music out of Industrial, metal, and noise rock elements, constructing brave ‘glitch-hop’ experiments independent of fly-by-night trendsetters. I got to speak to Will Dalek to promote ‘02s From Filthy Tongue Of Gods And Groits. Since then, Dalek released ‘04s Absence and ‘07s Abandoned Language, two equally fine LPs. ‘09s Gutter Tactics piled on further sonic shoegaze fuzz for another round of symphonic

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First, ancient Greek drama gave us Hercules, the courageous mortal-turned-God. And now, hundreds of centuries later, a non-ancestral Colorado-raised impresario using the same handle currently dominates America’s sullied dance floors. As the reluctant brainchild steadying Hercules And Love Affair’s self-titled debut (DFA Records), techno warrior Andrew Butler has risen out of the windswept Southwest plains to acquire exalted club status in the Big Apple.

Encouraged by a teacher to do notation, Butler began constructing Classical piano-based compositions…