Gordon? Advertisements Continue reading Obscure Music Magazine of the Day: Feeling
– Frank Owen, Spin, Jan 1990 Continue reading Who Wrote the Book?
“‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?’ still needs modest defenses. Eerily mimicking the feel of the Stones’ ‘Miss You,’ Stewart’s band plays every extant disco signifier: four on the floor drums, locked-down bass, guitar fills too groove-conscious to do anything besides stay out of the way, sax solo. The key, though, is the amazing synth line, lumbering across the track, suggesting a scenario much colder and … Continue reading Rod the Bod
Yes, that James Chance. From the latest edition of Perfect Sound Forever. Because I’m fairly noir-deficient, much of the context here eludes me, but there’s some great lines throughout. On 1947’s Nightmare Alley: “The movie that proves that the geeks that you meet on the way up are the same ones you meet on the way down. In fact, you just might be meeting yourself.” … Continue reading James Chance on Film Noir
From Joe Carducci’s, Rock and the Pop Narcotic. For me, the smartest thing about his book is his use of quotes, the more (apparently) non-sequiturial, the better. You laugh or scoff at many of them, then are forced to ponder their place: why is this one here? What does this have to do with ANYthing? Continue reading The Sublime and the Subliterate
“Lists are bread and butter to music writers; the problem with bread and butter, as we all now know post-Atkins, is that it sits in your stomach too long and makes you fat. Some of the writers here love lists, love making them, perusing them, criticising them, codifying and collating them; and some of the writers at Stylus hate lists, partly for what they represent … Continue reading Bread and Butter
Nick Tosches talks to Scott Raab about his new book, fear, Moby-Dick, opium, booze, and the weather. SR: How does a writer retire? NT: I’d retire by allowing most of my days to be as they have been for the past three months: I’ll sit on a bench, drink coffee, smoke cigars, and watch the clouds move through the sky, and watch this complete parade of idiocy around me. … Continue reading Nick Tosches in January Esquire