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  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

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Freakin' Glorious

Ariel Pink

By ERIN DEWITT

Published on January 15, 2009 at 2:42am

For anyone who gripes about the music scene being too scene-y (read: it’s all the same hipster-generated folk-pop), clap your hands for Ariel Pink. Making his own drum beats with either his mouth or his armpit and gaining the love of Animal Collective, this Los Angeles-based musician/artist not only breaks the mold but annihilates it. Somewhere in between minimalist psychedelia and ‘70s glitter-dusted freak folk, Pink brings the weird and outlandish back to music. Which is right where it belongs, dammit.
Thu., Jan. 15, 9 p.m., 2009