The stable is where you learn to
be in charge and not take shit
Dressed to the occasion:
leather boots and a stiff black whip
I don't even have to use it!
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In "Pony," Frida sings:
Dear Frida,
It is official: I have a crush on you, and it feels good. I woke up this morning with your words circling through my foggy mind. Don't you worry, love. Let me help you love. There you go, love. Oh that's brilliant love.
It is official: I have a crush on you, and it feels good. I woke up this morning with your words circling through my foggy mind. Don't you worry, love. Let me help you love. There you go, love. Oh that's brilliant love.
I knew nothing about you when your album, Silence is Wild, wound up on my cluttered desk. Now I would like to know everything. Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps you can't help it, but, yes, you have been extra charming. It's not only me, I'm sure. I'm sure others feel the same. If it is true, as you say, that your beauty is fleeting, then it…
Dear colleagues:
The year is almost over. The air has grown cold. Our rivers are stuck in deep, deep thought. Outside my 6th-floor window, countless, swirling bits of snow are decorating this gray city like little answers blowing in the wind, like so many true loves: A sure sign that the annual Consumer Electronics Show in glittery Las Vegas is right around the bend. It opens on Thursday, January 8th and runs right on through Sunday, the 11th.
The year is almost over. The air has grown cold. Our rivers are stuck in deep, deep thought. Outside my 6th-floor window, countless, swirling bits of snow are decorating this gray city like little answers blowing in the wind, like so many true loves: A sure sign that the annual Consumer Electronics Show in glittery Las Vegas is right around the bend. It opens on Thursday, January 8th and runs right on through Sunday, the 11th.
I will not be there this year. I will miss you.
In June, when our managing editor, Elizabeth Donovan, packed up her red…
This weather is pointless. Pointless! What's the use of all this snow and ice? Don't tell me it looks pretty. I'm just not fit for this sort of cold. It's days like today after windy winter nights like last, when the temperatures plunge into the single digits and my apartment's old pipes freeze, that I wish I had an entire fleet of fiery amps to keep me warm.
I want an amp that's known for its prodigious heat. I want an amp that's too hot to touch. I want an amp that runs so hot you think the thing is broken. I want an amp that goes up in flames. If it makes beautiful…
In his essay, "Can We Agree to Disagree," Peter W. Mitchell states:
Whenever I read a statement in The Absolute Sound or Stereophile suggesting that the LP is the most lifelike and natural-sounding music medium, I am both annoyed and amused. I have only to play an LP of a Brahms symphony from CBS or DG to make such an assertion seem ludicrous on its face. But I think I understand why my LP-loving friends and I disagree so profoundly, even though none of us are cloth-eared numbskulls.
PWM's three-part thesis is interesting. The funny thing is: I agree with him, but I…
At the top of what I'd later learn to call "Arthur's Peak," I looked out onto the jagged, gray city and felt immortal.
When we finally reached the top, we found a strange surprise: The rest of our classmates were there.
I often wanted to turn back, in fact, but Pete was so damn far ahead of me that I couldn't even get his attention. I kept following.