BEST ROCK 'N' ROLL BAND
The Gotohells
What is rock 'n' roll, anyway? It doesn't even have hyphens (jam-rock, indie-rock). Rather than trying to explain, suffice to say that you know it when you hear it. And to hear Pinellas County's The Gotohells is to know it. Some folks might actually want to hyphenate the band into punk-rock, but there's too much of a blues undercurrent, too much Stones influence, too much reverence for the '50s founding fathers, to ghetto-ize the quartet like that. They do, however, play with the kind of fire and abandon often associated with punk groups. The music brims with big, corrosive guitars, stompin' beats, primal hooks and attitude to burn. The Gotohells are a national band of a fashion. They van-tour about half the year, either as openers for the likes of The Reverend Horton Heat or as small-venue headliners; they record for the California-based Vagrant label. They don't play around here that much, which in the end is probably a good thing. The few shows they do in these parts can be actual occasions, with no worries about the anvil of overexposure.
BEST SAME-NIGHT ROAD TRIP
The Sapphire Supper Club
54 N. Orange Ave.
Orlando 407-246-1419
It's possibly the coolest place in the state to see a show, now that Gainesville's Covered Dish is history, and it's only an hour and change up the road. Loads of great acts (Alkaline Trio, At The Drive-In, Guided By Voices, Grandaddy, Sloan, Yo La Tengo and that's just in the last year or so) often bypass Tampa Bay when they tour, but most of 'em swing through Disney's turf. Wondering why there's nothing good to do tonight? The Sapphire's less than half a tank of gas from where you sit. Tickets are always reasonable, though you gotta get yours posthaste — the club is small enough to lend that invaluable in-crowd vibe, while the bands that play there are generally of the ilk that could sell out a substantially larger place with ease.
BEST PROOF THAT ROCK 'N' ROLL IS DEAD
Nu-Metal
Rave-culture enthusiasts can be forgiven; they're just looking for an exciting new sound and feeling. Players and fans of the dense, angular, deconstructive or otherwise avant-garde are likewise off the hook; they're just trying to push the envelope. Even those many, many souls who flock to Ybor's various cover-band dens and halls of watered-down techno are more sympathetic than reprehensible; they just want to get drunk and laid. But what does it say about the culture of rebellion that rock 'n' roll's darkest form has seemingly been reduced to funny hair and an inarticulate, repetitive whine? Nu-metal's corporate-sanctioned misanthropy and manufactured image are the very antithesis of rock's visceral compulsion and celebration of miscreant fun. By the way, those are exactly the same qualities that eventually killed glam-metal. Why do you think some Limp Bizkit fans act like violent, misogynist lunkheads? Because somewhere deep down, they know they're listening to this decade's Poison. The music doesn't convey any real sense of those outrageous emotions which lend rock 'n' roll its true danger. It's loud and it's heavy, but it doesn't, you know, burn. So if rock 'n' roll has indeed expired (yeah, right), it's possible that the genre took a look at the family's supposed black sheep, saw what it was wearing and died of embarrassment.
BEST RELIGIOUS MUSIC
Denison Marrs
It used to be easy to dismiss Christian rock — you didn't have to hate it because it was spiritual, you could hate it because it was horrible. But over the last few years, Christian music has become a major force in underground music, and pop-punk in particular, thanks in large part to national labels like Tooth & Nail, and venues like St. Pete's Refuge, that give the "rock" at least as much billing as the "Christian." Several noteworthy Bay area acts are currently plying spiritually-minded riffage that also happens to be very, very good, but as far as originality, talent and overall listenability go, Lakeland's Denison Marrs continues to be the best thing going. The band's blend of posthardcore and swirling shoegaze is simply mesmerizing, and 2000's Holding Hands (@ 30,000 Feet) still sounds fresher than what most local bands, Christian or otherwise, are doing nearly two years later. Rumors of both a recording contract and breaking up are constantly circulating about the band, but, God willing, you'll still be able to experience their positive, engaging and inimitable style at gigs around town when this runs. fly.to/denisonmarrs
