In high school, I spent a lot of time in the AV department. It was where the geeks, gays, weirdoes, and Goths hung out—plus the theater types, straight-edgers, pot-smoking jocks, Kids-era ravers, and a few normals—all because a librarian named Magoo let us sit at
A Parisian reader emailed me after my Video Digest about the latest hip-hop dances. Was I aware, she wanted to know, of Paris’s own Techtonik craze? I was, though nowhere as well as I am now. You’ve heard about dances sweeping a city. Well, Paris, she’s
No U.S. Open coverage was complete without pointing fans toward YouTube, where up-and-coming Federer replacement Novak Djokovic was caught impersonating his peers in the locker room. With good reason: There was nothing else to talk about. Sports with levity, now there’s a story. Djokovic’s good,
My wife loves to dance and so do I, but Paris, where we live right now, isn’t much of a dancing town, especially if you like R&B. Paris is a techno city. Occasionally a bar or club will have a hip-hop night, but mostly hip-hop
Name: Chicken John Time of birth: 11:48 p.m. Occupation title(s), both real and desired-in-another-lifetime? Showman. Ditto. We’ve heard you’re running for mayor. What’s the main idea behind your campaign? To champion our city of Art and Innovation. How do you get
Name: Farris Libsey. Time of birth: 1928. Occupation title(s), both real and desired-in-another-lifetime? Retired electrician. How would you describe your look? Well, I look the best I can every day. What do people think when they see you on the street? A lot of people give
Name: Will Chiapella Time of birth: Two whole days of childbirth (sorry Ma) Occupation title(s), both real and desired-in-another-lifetime? Street photographer, flaneur, crytoscopophiliac, generally harmless person How would you describe your look? Thrown-together chic; handmade, reused, worn-out; free What do people think when they
I have reason to reminisce. My tenure of living in New York City is ending, and in the weeks before I move, I’m starting to forget what I dislike about New York. More on that later. But how easily music conjures memories. I think I was turned on to
Spring is taking its time this year, teasing us with a few warm days. When the weather’s nice, I want to listen to HOT 97. My finger’s drawn to the pre-programmed rubber button on the hood of my radio. And three times in the last two weeks,
Dear TMN, I should, to begin with, admit that I am in the minority who feels that English, August deserved better than it got at Colin Meloy's hands. I will, rhetoric-fashion, tell you that I won't mention the arguably provincial privileging of parceled observations of
