The dance-pop artist proved she’s a charming performer at the Anthem on Monday night.
It’s fitting that Stefani should open her Harajuku Lovers Tour with Debbie Deb’s “When I Hear Music” booming from a giant tower of speakers.
The venue was filled with a mix of hardcore fans, label scouts, and curious out-of-towners.
Harvey has never struck me as an explicitly political artist, but her lyrics are vague enough to welcome multiple interpretations.
The vibe of the day was participatory citizenship, which has become a growing mantra among political bands.
The crowd was young and boisterous, and one particularly drunk teen was making yours truly look like a no-fun-having old coot.
Prince reminded the crowd of what a true talent was capable of, throwing the town’s biggest block party, a celebration of musicality.
Enter the Mother of Reinvention. Madonna would probably prefer Mother of Evolution, or even Revolution.
“Do you know the history of this building?” Nelly Furtado asked her not-quite-sold-out New York audience at Midtown Manhattan’s the Town Hall.
Automatically their appropriation of all that we hold dear about ’80s rock gives them a better shot at the suburbs than the flouncy ditties of the aforementioned bands.
Sophie B. Hawkins might just be the hardest working musician in the business.
A grassroots punk rock tribute to the late punk icon, Joe Strummer, at New York City’s premier underground venue, CBGB’s. What could be more fitting?
Yep, she still squirms and straddles her piano bench like she’s wielding an electric guitar.
Over the course of the past eight years, the Dallas-born singer-songwriter has steadily evolved into a legitimate focal point on the pop music scene.
If the Flaming Lips are obnoxious, their fans are even more so.
Brill, formerly of the much-sought-after and now disbanded Envelope, is one step away from his “big night.”
The singer hesitantly approached her microphone like a hungry predator or lover and discretely toiled over each syllable.
Last night, the Irving Plaza floor both brewed with anticipation and stewed with “what-if-they-don’t-play-any-old-stuff?” anxiety.
It’s fitting that PJ Harvey’s 2001 tour commences in the Big Apple, the city that breathed life into half of her new album.
The hunger that Madonna creates in the public is often more palpable than the art in her pop.