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  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Agent from Iran

    How a mother of two ended up in a plot to smuggle high-tech gear to the enemy.

    By Deirdra Funcheon

  • Westword

    Murder By Design

    In life and death, tattoo artist Kauri Tiyme made her mark.

    By Alan Prendergast

  • Village Voice

    My Brother the Slumlord

    Amy Neustein never could resist going public with her family dramas.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    The Ghosts of Galveston

    A visit with the hurricane victims that a country forgot.

    By John Nova Lomax

Old 97's: Wreck Your Life

Old 97’s bassist Murry Hammond talks long-distance relationships, charity work and his frontman’s pesky solo career

By Lee Stabert

Published on July 23, 2008 at 3:42am

When the Old 97’s are on—when rambunctious frontman Rhett Miller is cooing and crooning over a ragged honky-tonk snarl and dropping lines so snarky and devastating that they can make you forget how darn pretty he is—there are few bands better. But none of it would work without stalwart sidekick and bassist Murry Hammond and his flawless vintage sensibility. On the handful of songs he sings on each release, Hammond reminds the listener that this band’s magic is most potent at its most dissonant—when pop rubs up against punkabilly and when Miller’s rakish charm is mitigated by Hammond’s unpretentious skill. Read the Scene's interview with Murry Hammond.
Wed., July 23, 8:30 p.m., 2008


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