National Features >

  • 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

A Marriage Made in Hell

Rivetheads, goths snuggle up at Homme

By Leslie Barton

Published on May 07, 2008 at 4:04am

We were leaning against the DJ booth at Homme for the Thursday-night weekly FALLOUT when someone's shadow sidled up and queried, "So, you a rivethead or a cybergoth?" Granted, we were wearing a black, nylon trench coat, but honey, please, it's a Marc Jacobs. We quickly turned, unhinged our jaw, and ate him.

While a goth may be off somewhere scripting 18th-century poetry in her own blood, a rivethead is probably dead-staring into the eyes of a priest while slowly flipping him off. Emotionally disparate, it seems like the two have bonded to help create what passes for a scene in dry old dusty Phoenix. The DJs spin heavy, boot-stompy rants against corruption, dens of thieves, and fires of judgment. Once the bass lines start rolling and vocals start controlling, it's a dramatic free-for-all.


Thursdays, 10 p.m., 2008