Rolling Stone

I've noticed social media is teeming with gals sexing up their profile pics, and stats back up this trend—my question is, where's our spirit, personality, wit, and quiet wisdom in all this?

Writers Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain, authors of "Please Kill Me: An Uncensored Oral History Of Punk," come to West Ashley's Tin Roof Monday night. Here's my colorful chat with Legs...

A trip to The Pour House to see one of my current favorites (The Royal Tinfoil) yielded the bonus of discovering another (The Whiskey Gentry)

If you didn't see it, you've probably heard about it. The final call in last night's Packers v. Seahawks game has turned the once straight-laced NFL into a reality show-rivaling television spectacle

How disgusting, revolting, icky rock bands stay healthy. (Photo: the men's room at iconic CBGBs in NYC, now closed. Note: no door)

So says my good friend and music promoter Joel Frank. That debate aside, come out to Home Team BBQ (W.A.) this Sunday for his venture's kick-off bash, with a ton of local (non-boy band) music

As part of North Chuck's 40-year celebration, Earth Wind & Fire blew the roof off the North Charleston Coliseum Tuesday night, proving that they've still got it

How I fell in love with live music. (Hint: It's all Joan's fault)

I had the pleasure of publishing a column on John Brannen recently. John is shooting the film right now for his movie Midnight Rain, which I also hope to cover, minus mosquitoes and alligators

To get to this music writer's lyrical roots, you gotta go back... way back, to Star Wars, Ted Nugent, and a decade's worth of stolen copies of Rolling Stone.

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