Music
Brad Oberhofer is one of the ones that got away. Having found success at Tacoma School of the Arts, Oberhofer fulfilled the promise that all art students make to themselves: he left. Having studied music for most of his lucid life, he finally got out of dodge, heading for New
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Brad Oberhofer is one of the ones that got away. Having found success at Tacoma School of the Arts, Oberhofer fulfilled the promise that all art students make to themselves: he left. Having studied music for most of his lucid life, he finally got out of dodge, heading for New
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Twang. You hear that? It’s called a twang. And guess what: there’s more where that came from. Folks, the Outlaw Music Festival is rollin’ into town, and it’s prepared to “two-timin’ woman” and “cross-roads-meetin’ devil” the s*** out of you. A ragtag bunch of bluesy, countryish bands will gather together
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Listening to Desolation Wilderness is like hearing bubblegum pop blasting from an underwater phonograph — layers of guitar and keyboard swimming in a sea of reverb, sounding at once familiar and completely foreign, like finding a radio station lost in the static of night — if I may strain another
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Listening to Desolation Wilderness is like hearing bubblegum pop blasting from an underwater phonograph — layers of guitar and keyboard swimming in a sea of reverb, sounding at once familiar and completely foreign, like finding a radio station lost in the static of night — if I may strain another
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In his junior year at Tacoma School of the Arts, Jasper Spicero dropped out and moved to Kansas, where he finished his schooling. He’s since returned, but not for long; he’ll be moving to Portland this month. He, like many others, has squeezed all he could out of Tacoma and
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As Craig Finn of the Hold Steady once said, “Everyone’s a critic and most people are DJs.” Truer words have rarely been spoken. As someone who spends more than enough time fighting with friends for dibs on the next song selection, I can tell you unequivocally that it’s
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A Leaf is a band that produces the kind of hushed folk rock that’s made for lazy summer days sleeping in the park. Dreamy vocal harmonies slip in and out and about the dulcet guitar strums, shuffling drums and piano flutters. Most of their songs meander along pleasantly, and as
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When I was 8-years-old, my parents and I rode in the car as “Yesterday” came over the airwaves. My mother turned it up and slyly looked over at my father while I watched in the back seat. “Who sings this song, Adam?” she asked. “The Beatles,” I responded. Then came
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In the swelter of Independence Day, I’m collected by a rusted pickup driven by Tommy Dean’s father. From there, I’m taken to Dean’s trailer, the sound of firecrackers like white noise in the distance. I’m taken aback by how perfect these modest accommodations fit Dean’s aesthetic: in his world of
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Speaking with Sean Alexander and Peter Lynn, the owners of The Helm Gallery, the main feeling I gathered was relief — not happiness, mind you, but relief. It’s been two years since The Helm Gallery opened its doors, and in that time Lynn and Alexander have been on the vanguard
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Speaking with Sean Alexander and Peter Lynn, the owners of The Helm Gallery, the main feeling I gathered was relief — not happiness, mind you, but relief. It’s been two years since The Helm Gallery opened its doors, and in that time Lynn and Alexander have been on the vanguard