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Carlos Murphy’s

| March 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

We’re all for interracial mingling, though the Irish/Mexican thing’s special treatment has kept us guessing. Is it a Catholic thing?

We’re being extra careful when it concerns The Coronas. Ya see, the secret about the Irish/Mexican fad is it’s really Irish-American. When native Irish holiday, they follow their English rivals to Spain where, get this, they also speak Spanish. In relation to Emerald-dwelling The Coronas, however, we’re ruling out both Tex-Mex and tapas. They’re thankfully nowhere near as world-weary as either U2 or The Frames, but that doesn’t mean their hearts aren’t broken. The quartet’s latest entry, Tony Was An Ex-Con, packs plenty of light, Kooks-esque swagger to keep your mind off how many Guinnesses you’ve slurped in the process of healing. (And for the last time, there’s fewer calories in a Guindog than a Bud.) (Thursday@Lincoln Hall with Rob Nicholas — a separate event from the Schubas/Lincoln Hall SXSW roundup.)

For the record, it is not a rule that a guitar/drums duo has to be blues-based. Unsure whether we’re being truthful, Left Lane Cruiser hew to that principle nonetheless. Less grungy than The Black Keys and more comprehensible than Scott H. Biram, the album art of the pair perched atop a Crown Vic wearing truckers’ and skull caps provides incentive enough to test them out. Junkyard Speed Ball (Alive) races through a dozen tracks (namechecking both Cracker Barrel and Denny’s) as if Freddy J IV’s slide’s about to slip off his finger and he wants to play as much as he can before it does. Drummer Brenn Beck is no schooled pounder neither, playing with the controlled frenzy of early Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. (Friday@Morseland with T-Byrdz.)

And out of nowhere, as per usual, Detholz host a record-release party this weekend. Though they’ve been asked top open for bands like Wilco based on their own adventurism, Death To The Traitor (available for a price of your choosing) straightens their spines a little, giving their hydra rock some artificial structure. Fear not — they’re not jockeying for the cameras at SXSW this weekend. “Ghosts Of Xmas Palsy” has an angular, synth-based framework, “Lost Weekend” is a Scouse shanty in space, and “Piggly Man” pours the harmonies over the waterfall. (Saturday@Hideout with Rachel Ries.)

— Steve Forstneger

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