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National Features

  • Village Voice
    A Long Way Wrong?

    Another celebrated memoir threatens to blow into a million little pieces.

    By Graham Rayman
  • LA Weekly
    Hoop Dawg

    Billionaire Donald T. Sterling owns the L.A. Clippers and loves the ladies. And those are just two of his problems.

    By Patrick Range McDonald
  • The Pitch
    Children of the Porn

    Elvin Boone's sex-shop empire crumbles as his offspring feud.

    By Justin Kendall
  • Westword
    The Good Soldier

    When the Army tried to take down Andrew Pogany, they messed with the wrong coward.

    By Joel Warner

The only reason we never suspected that the Kills were actually a techno group is their name. Techno guys would never settle for such a simple moniker. But in retrospect, it makes sense, since the male-female duo never really seemed committed to the guitars-and-drums thing. On Midnight Boom, the Kills ditch the punky blues-rock of their 2003 debut for repetitive bass and 808 hypnosis, shuffling through a dozen tracks with more breeze than they did on 2005's idle No Wow. Replacing palm-muted, post-coital ennui with industrial sound effects, slamming doors, and dial tones, Midnight Boom's minimalism can be maddening for those of us who never got Suicide. A few songs take a pass at melody, but the Kills sound less like X than they do the boring half of LCD Soundsystem's Sound of Silver.

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