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Inspired Rants: musings on societal visions of beauty
Unlikely lady on a hot tin roof. Exposed to the elements. Half-clothed and pondering just why the world has gone mad. I am not a commodity. I do not need to jut my hip out when a photo is taken of me. I don’t need to plump my lips, firm my ass. Everyone is a […]
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An homage to Heather MacAllister: act two
Portland, the city that manages to smell like nature despite the cars and commotion. It’s a city of antiquated nuance, as odd as that sounds. It’s a cable car that weaves around downtown streets, a donut shop that performs wedding ceremonies. They’ve got brunch and coffee shops there that rival those of their northbound
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La psicodelia trasciende los rincones de Buenos Aires
Prueba de sonido de la mano de Tom Ballester. Lauti no llegó. Jota y Charly en Perú. La Grolsch empezaba a salir. Porque sí, las noches con la sociedad psicoactiva vistiendo a Naranja Verde son distintas. Recorrido de la gente que lo desea, una vez más. Después de un mes lograr adentrarse a lo que […]
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Pearl Jam: proper rock in Detroit city
“It’s evolution baby,” Vedder proclaimed after a cheeky joke that left the audience roaring for more. It was a dick joke, and it was appropriate. Because, while the band has evolved, they’ve remained relevant, they’ve remained rock and roll. And it’s that ever-present air of charisma that keeps them packing arenas.
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Paolo Nutini: life as soulful fodder
In reading past interviews, the thing that intrigued me most about Paolo Nutini was his mention of the item he cherished most, a wooden rocking horse handmade for him by his grandfather. My intention was to learn to whittle, fashion a miniature wooden horse, and hand it to the young powerhouse-of-tune after watching
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Rebecca Rego&The Trainmen: homespun acquaintance
I’m listening to superb Americana dosed with a unique blend of antiquated folk. The album presents as a conduit that carries you off, back in time, to the sun-porch at your grandma’s house. That porch, where you’d sit to sift through old photographs and reminisce, learn a thing or two. There, records were played on […]
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An homage to Heather MacAllister: act one
“I fucked the bassist of the MC5 once,” she admitted. It wasn’t an outwardly surprising confession. At 35, she was stark raving mad in the kindest way, a burgeoning LGBT activist who never quit her day job as world’s most profound debate enthusiast. She stood there…tall, brisk, and ample. She always wore black,
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The Broken Record Chicago: volume nine
This week, as the last, we’re here to support your filthy live music habit. We’ve strewn letters, numbers and the like across this template. They’re yours to sort through. Ignite a fire in your heart and set out for one the venues housing talent. You’ll enjoy it. Bands are linked to their respective band pages […]
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Wax Poetic: Frank Zappa presents Freak Out
It’s not that deep… no resounding nor epic thought patterns provoked my foray into Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention. It was quite the opposite. This album, it was a breach of epic proportions… a breach of steadfast moral and virtue. Some perverted little lyrics wrapped up in shiny