Poetry. Prosody. Performance.
In one word: polished.
In an era and music genre that is often overrun with a litany of discontent egocentrics, misogynists, and materialists that the 1990s era of rap ushered in – whether intentional or merely as a latent function of the underground movement – bona fide hip-hop endures.
Within the vast realms of music, few artists are able to formulate an exceptional sound. Even fewer can be credited with doing so more than once.
But ask fans of St. Petersburg-based Oceana to describe them and the diversity of responses will show how fruitful their history of continuous musical reinvention has been.
For some music lovers, experiencing live shows are a crucial part of musical appreciation. That moment where the music and vibe coalesce into some kind of nirvana. Goose bumps rise, and you’re airborne.
I took to the streets of St. Petersburg to have a one-on-one chat with folks about the recent death of Whitney Houston. My goal was to find out how people think Houston will be remembered by coming generations.
Students of the Music Industry/Recording Arts (MIRA) program at St. Petersburg College are showcasing their music at the Palladium Theater on Monday, Dec. 5, from 7:30 to 10:30 p.m.
The showcase features MIRA’s laptop, hand drum, R&B and
Local multi-faceted musical talent Cameron Decker, 21, enjoys performing and exploring different genres of music. His Christmas album, “Christmas in the Garden” is set to release today, Nov. 24, 2011. It will cater to genres from everything between country and jazz. The first track on the album is “Christmas, Please
Sharon Scott enters the stage. A spotlight silhouettes her ethereal form in an incandescent glow. White-clad dancers move in unison around her like the angels of the heavenly host as Mary lies in a manger on the side of the stage, with
Of the three cities ventured into by the art, film, and music festival, Circus Surreal, St. Petersburg was one.
Circus Surreal intends to capture the spirit of ingenuity and the will to defy the conventional, and it did.
Madness had taken over Downtown St. Petersburg. Many of the bars and music venues lining the 500 and 600 blocks of Central Avenue were full, each of their doors a portal to a unique slice of culture. Strangers and best friends were indistinguishable in the throng.
Dead Cat Lounge sneers, thrashes and reviles in the distorted, aural vitriol with which they have, like some swing of atrophy, jarred the consciousness of many punks, reporters, out-of-towners, drunkards and heaving crowds, from the ravaged stages and dives of St. Petersburg to the far-off corners of the gleaming Floridian swampland.