Old man, look at your life
You are Neil Young. How nice. You are the idol of the rock critics and the overly-ponytailed dads. You are the “living legend,” one of…
Damian Purdy
Musical memory memory memory
Drop-jawed and dead-eyed, they sat soundless, and stared. It was employee #3263827, the “Arts Editor,” who spoke first, in a halting voice. “Do you have…
False Dichotomies
False Dichotomies is a continuing column that unfairly pits two things against one another to determine, definitively, which is better. This week: watching the entire…
Life after death
Whoa, you just died. Nice one. Only a moment ago, there you were — alive, lying in bed, in a clean, white room. Your family…
Eat, Sleep, Drink Evil
Christening your band “Goatwhore” is definitely not the path of least resistance to widespread social acceptance. This is unfortunate, because to hear lead singer Ben…
Viva L’viv
When the poet Walt Whitman declared that “the art of art and the glory of expression [ . . . ] is simplicity,” he was,…
The Fright Stuff
Gape-mouthed monsters overrun swirling landscapes of fever and dream. The preternatural world consorts freely with ours, often to violent and surreal effect. Aesthetic touchstones such…
Give Up Now
The only way to avoid the crushing moment-to-moment parade of utter hopelessness that is “life” is to give up now. Believe me, it is beautiful…
Just don’t call it “Alt-country”
“Yacht rock.” “No Wave.” “Late-Baroque contrapunctual Galante.” “Miami Booty Bass.” People – usually non-musicians – seem to possess a near-militant will to categorize music into…
Don’t sell them short
Though many film-goers bemoan the deadening lack of originality in mainstream cinema, only a few bother to seek out alternatives. Sure, fare like the independent…