The nation's oldest Death Row inmate probably won't ever be executed. But he sure loves to write letters.
South Florida's lawless exotic rental car industry keeps rolling.
In Texas, restitution for victims is nothing but a state-sanctioned sham.
If you thought Seattle couldn't fetishize coffee any more, you haven't been to a "cupping" yet.
The Von Bondies produced one superior, bliss-pop hit a few years ago: "C'Mon, C'Mon," a ringing, hook-filled tune that's jump-up-and-down-on-your-bed-in-your-underwear perfection. Sadly, the Motor City band's albums (such as 2004's Pawn Shoppe Heart) consistently score a solid rating of "a'ight," and though it's set to release a new disc (Love, Hate and Then There's You) in the fall, it's unlikely the group will again reach the chart heights it once enjoyed. That's fine, though, because the coed quartet proves itself at gigs. Live versions of the songs possess more grit than they do on the diluted recordings (and, in fact, echo fellow Detroit legends the Stooges). By alternating between cutesy-girl harmonies and dirty Midwest bravado, the Von Bondies leave crowds with delightfully alternating urges to either make out with someone or punch them in the face.