The incomplete triangle’s three sides face a reflective horizon. Its three-sided face disappears into a black mirror. You can oftentimes only see the rope that ties it together. – Dascha Mas, Considering Important Geometry Or so says the packaging for Lansing-Dreiden’s incredible debut album, The Incomplete Triangle,
At long last, with Diet Pepsi stained teeth and a week of trouble sleeping, I’ve bought (and consumed) enough bottles to finally win an iTunes song. ‘One in three wins,’ right. That may be true when they leave the factory, but my personal calculations tell a far sadder story.
Four years ago Phoenix released their debut album United, a partly ironic, partly dance-y, altogether fascinating Gallic amalgam of funk, pop, and electronica (three gross music words that go well together) that impressed everyone from critics to trainspotters to heshers alike. The sheer range of musical styles seemed more
Recently I was faced with a crisis. Not a major crisis, but one where skill and memory were of utmost importance. This steak is supposed to be cooked to temperature, but the thermometer reads 40 degrees, though it’s cooked, ready, even, even edible, possibly. What! What? The thermometer is
I’ve never, ever, ever had a 24-hour stomach flu. At least not that I can recall. I’ve heard about them, sure, and always thought, hey, what a lucky break. I mean, sick for 24 hours, that’s it? What a joke. Ha. Ha. Ha. Until I learned
The instrumental explorations of Richmond’s Tulsa Drone spread across a stark, moody landscape that equally recalls the prog rock of the mid-’90s Chicago scene and the later moments of Dead Can Dance—the hammered dulcimer playing as large a part as it does. That said, Tulsa Drone are
Those DVDs you see all over New York, the ones the guys sell on the sidewalk – with the Xeroxed covers and all that – the ones you walk by and wonder, How do they already have Starsky & Hutch on DVD? You know those. They work, you should know. Bet that
The Elected makes a kind of beautiful, traditional pop music that jumps deep into your heart and lives with you, maybe forever, with delirious Beatlesque melodies, all heavily rouged with Elliott Smith-ness. (An interesting side-note: The band recorded the album on leftover, free time at Smith’s Van
Sometimes the hope for the weekend seems just around a corner you’ll never turn. Likewise, the weather in New York has been bumpy, up and down, leaving everyone without a clue to go on. When I first woke up this morning, the sun shone brightly through my bedroom window,
Last night I stepped onto the platform at 14th Street, ready to be on my way home to Brooklyn after a long day in the city. So were the other 2,000 people who were waiting for an eastbound train that would be – inevitably – packed full of passengers when it
