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  • City Pages

    "Governor No"

    Minnesota's Tim Pawlenty grooms himself for vice-presidential consideration--by being a jerk.

    By Jonathan Kaminsky

  • Miami New Times

    Day Strippers

    Our reporter sets out in search of a naked lunch.

    By Janine Zeitlin

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    Switch Hitter

    Before swinging a bat in a lesbian softball league, pick a side: gay or straight?

    By Amy Guthrie

  • Village Voice

    Death in the Skies

    At JFK, Erhan Yildirim clears corpses for takeoff.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

Hot Rails

To Hell With the Hot Rails (MySpace.com/HotRailsMusic)

By D.X. Ferris

Published on March 19, 2008

On its full-length debut, rip-roarin' Hot Rails plays the kind of punky, country-fried, bluesy rock that takes root so easily in the city's cloudy climate; under Cleveland's gray skies, this quintet makes its own heat. Providing hardcore beats for back-alley poetry, Charlie Druesedow guns his drums like a V8, and the roughshod chords of "Bitchin' Hour" sound like the band stole the keys to "Detroit Rock City," drove it through Medina's dirt roads, and returned it with a dented fender and straw sticking out of its grill. By this bender's end in "2 Tuff 2 Try," the blue-collar cowboys stumble into rivers and mountains, retreat to a bar, and wind up in bed. It's a hangover hard-earned.

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