Blind Hunger, Black Bodies, and Radiohead’s In Rainbows
I’ve seen it coming. This is where it passes through.
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...moreThis is fault-line music, dangerous in an unassuming way.
...moreMost often, I do not speak when I am alone. That morning I sat on the couch and said Oh my God. I said it aloud, again and again, Oh my God.
...moreThese golden years, precious and ephemeral, are falling in pieces at your feet everywhere you turn, and part of you thinks, let them. You almost wish, despite yourself, for this all to just go faster.
...moreSomething about the twangy banjo and the melancholy vocals just made me feel less alone. And I hated being alone.
...moreRegardless of where or how I listen to the CD, I can still imagine myself in the car’s passenger seat, smell Tim’s cologne, or see the sun setting in a mix of fiery colors beyond us.
...moreWhen I first heard Brian Sella’s sweet, pathetic voice sing these words, they seared a sense of guilt into me.
...moreIn her voice, I am held, cradled even. I am equal parts longing and hope. I am home.
...moreThe summer before my final year at college, my fear started to manifest as an anxiety disorder specializing in sickness and disease.
...moreNight Work is a queer sonic fantasia soaked heavy in the 1980s.
...moreI drifted off and dreamed that Emily and I donned riding hoods and ran through the forest to escape from wolves.
...moreI knew if I could make it out of town, make it to college, I would survive. But I wasn’t sure I would.
...moreCould the idea of a god be reconciled with the things I saw around me? This question obsessed me in my last month in Cambodia.
...more“Annie Waits” summed me up in ways that I wasn’t consciously aware of at the time and not only because Annie was my childhood nickname.
...moreA friend once showed me his dad’s copy of the Beatles’s White Album and said you could find secret messages hidden in the lyrics. I tried to look for the same things in Odelay, but it resisted.
...moreThe end is always tragic. I’d known that from the start. What kind of sucker would expect to hold on to a girl named Misty Hayes?
...moreFor me, Bob Pollard became a messiah of the creative life, urging me forward for many years to come, in my new, somewhat shabby but inspired career.
...moreI wanted to feel sheltered under the cathedral of his voice, to feel, always, the way his songs made me feel.
...moreIt’s one of those records I’ve glued to a pedestal, like people do with torrid weekend affairs or their favorite dish at Denny’s.
...moreWe could hear the muffled roar of the show booming through the walls of the historic building. We were drunk, pretending to be music writers. We were giddy with our trespass.
...moreMusic is the ultimate consolation for reality’s letdowns (like being thirteen and still firmly living in the realm of childhood). I would listen to “Venus as a Boy” on repeat in my bedroom, curtains drawn, and imagine Allan’s face, his arms, his chest, his body.
...moreFirst, Diana Whitney reviews Cynthia Cruz’s poetry collection, Wunderkammer, meaning “cabinet of curiosities.” This is a book of “delicious… detail.” Cruz’s poems, Whitney declares, “have a wry sense of humor that tempers the traumas they reveal.” The poet, who was born in Germany, transports readers from Berlin to upstate New York, from death to madness […]
...moreHalloween afternoon, my senior year of high school. At the end of the school day, shadows already stretch from the huge white pines near Newton Square.
...moreThe driving force of the album is the character Dory Tourette, part invented alter ego, part self-mythologized caricature of frontman Dory Ben-Shalom…
...moreWhen I heard Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism it was the first time I remember seeing sounds, understanding stories told to me set to music.
...moreA few days before we left a life in New York, my then-husband drove home drunk from a bar in the Bronx
...more1. The car I drove when I was 20 smelled like rain. When it stormed, the passenger side floor filled with a puddle so deep I’d have to bail it out with a folded floor mat. When I drove faster than 60, it shuddered. None of this bothered me. What drove me crazy was the […]
...moreI decided that I had to write a book about him. I would track down everyone who knew him while they were still alive, I would collect their stories of him in the hopes of preserving Rashaan’s legacy.
...moreWhat did I turn to when I needed to channel my frustration with this corporatized Republican state against which I could only kick my small angry feet? The music of Gen-Xers from another country.
...moreOur music collection was unassailable until I became pregnant with my first daughter.
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