I was thoroughly prepared to bash this album. So, Sir Paul McCartney, who the heck do you think you are? I’m terribly sorry that you’re unhappy with the original album. Deal with it.
Associated Students Legislative Council convened Wednesday night for its last meeting of the quarter. Members of A.S. gave personal accounts of a confrontation that took place between students and police in a UC Board of Regents meeting Wednesday morning.
Yo La Tengo returns with their second release of the year, a six-song EP that contains only three original tracks. Why an EP with only three originals when they already released a full length this year? Don’t even ask.
It smells like Blink-182, it looks like Blink-182 and their new album will undoubtedly sell like Blink-182. However, it doesn’t really sound like Blink-182.
If you look at the cover of any magazine these days, it seems that Britney Spears has it. If “it” happens to be excessive cleavage, jutting hipbones and flowing extensions, well, then she certainly does have “it.”
If African art and eclectic American pop-culture inspired sculpture seem like they could never co-exist harmoniously, then you better see this to believe it. Local artist, Peter Cole’s textual and detailed sculptures are on exhibit downtown at the Sullivan Goss Ltd. Gallery.
1) Death Cab For Cutie | Transatlanticism | Barsuk
2) Belle and Sebastian | Dear Catastrophe Waitress | Sanctuary
3) Quails | The Song Is Love | Mr. Lady
In a surprise raid, 60 to 70 law enforcement officers converged on Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch Tuesday to execute a search warrant that a sheriff’s department spokesman would only describe as “the result of an ongoing criminal investigation.”
Correction: On Nov. 19, the weatherhuman did not want to write the weather. The weatherhuman, in fact, wanted to go home. And since the weatherhuman is anonymous, and therefore, cannot be fired…
Beer goggles are my favorite party accessory because they compliment almost any outfit. Don’t get me wrong, I am horny all the time, but there is a clear-cut difference between typical me and the penis-hungry booze hound that comes out in me when I party.