Most Popular

  • To Hug a Porcupine
    Three little boys set out to destroy the parents who loved them. This isn't how adoption is supposed to work.
  • Sexual Healing
    Sad stories and otherwise freaky tales from Florida's last sexual surrogate
  • Cookie Monsters
    It's the old diet doc versus the marketing gun in the great war of the tasty appetite suppressors
  • Smoked Tuna in the Can
    He was the first big bust of the War on Drugs. That and two bits won't get you a cup of coffee.
  • Shark Huggers
    Tourists can't wait to get next to them – even if they are eating machines
"Most Popular" tools sponsored by:

Recent Articles

Recent Articles by Michael Alan Goldberg

National Features >

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    Sexual Healing

    For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.

    By Michael J. Mooney

  • City Pages

    Your Friendly Neighborhood War Profiteer

    It's not just giant companies cashing in on America's defense industry.

    By Jeff Severns Guntzel

  • The Pitch

    Supersizing Sonic

    How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."

    By Justin Kendall

  • Houston Press

    Temples of Tex-Mex

    A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.

    By Robb Walsh

The Ataris

By Michael Alan Goldberg

Published on June 21, 2007

The Ataris If recent alt-rock history has taught bands anything about how to keep their career out of the shitter, it´s (1) do not, under any circumstances, allow someone in the group to date Winona Ryder (see: Soul Asylum, Counting Crows, Lemonheads, Third Eye Blind, Jamiroquai), and (2) do not let the big breakthrough single be a cover of an ´80s pop song (see: Orgy, Alien Ant Farm, Frente!, Save Ferris). To my knowledge, no member of the Ataris ever got down with Miss Ryder, but after more than a decade together, the New York-via-California-via-Indiana band is really only known, and often disparaged, for its 2003 version of Don Henley´s ¨The Boys of Summer¨ from the album So Long, Astoria. The disc yielded no further hits, the follow-up was repeatedly delayed, and they were eventually dropped from their record label. There´s only one real antidote for such a poisonous turn of events: total reinvention. And so the Ataris, once purveyors of pedestrian pop-punk, have overhauled both their sound gunning for dark, moody, artsy sonics (think the Cure, Joy Division, the Killers circa Hot Fuss) on their recently released fifth album, Welcome the Night and their lineup, expanding to a seven-piece that includes cello and keyboards. Not that they´re turning into the Decemberists or the Arcade Fire, but clearly the Ataris are betting that these days, their old fans are more about the sounds of Coachella and the Pitchfork Music Festival than corny ´80s covers.