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
Formed from parts of The Promise Ring and Camden, and with a history that’s too confusing to even attempt recounting, Milwaukee’s Decibully oozes the kind of damaged beauty that would be right at home at the end of a dark cul-de-sac, late Big Star and Elliott
At the grocery store around the corner, Saturday afternoon. There are four stacks of baskets. No clear contender, since each of the baskets on top contains a piece of trash: a wadded plastic produce bag (used?), a scrap of red-leaf lettuce, a damp paper towel, and a twist-tie.
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we lead you on a safe shopping excursion through all that discarded furniture on the sidewalks of New York.
