The other thing is that anyone who’s surprised by Etta’s pugnacious response to all this hasn’t been watching for the past 30 years. Etta has always been an asskicker. I’ve seen her almost unable to walk because she’s so heavy come out, sit on a chair and wail. This woman has lived the kind of…
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The mini–dustup over Etta James saying she “can’t stand” Beyonce and was gonna “whip” or “whoop” her ass is a hoot. First of all, Etta’s legacy is in no danger. No one will ever top her rendition of “At Last.” That performance, her greatest single track, is in no danger of being superseded.
I’ve sometimes wondered how long The Bad Plus can keep up their high-concept mix of pop and punk covers, avant-classical harmonies, jazz cadences, kick-ass polyrhythms, and sly but un-ironic wit. Don’t get me wrong: I like their music a lot; each of the players (Ethan Iverson, piano; Reid Anderson, bass; David King, drums) crackles with brio and virtuosity; their interplay is a delight. Still, in the six years since they improbably crashed onto the scene, there have been times when their conceit has seemed to reach its limit.
But the band’s new album, For All I Care (on Telarc’s Heads Up…
Oh, just making a magazine. That's all.
I think I wrote something like 22,000 words for this issue. Only had to slay a couple of dragons, sacrifice three virgins, and meet up with the devil at the crossroads to get this one out the door.
No big whoop.
I make it sound as though I did it all by myself. I didn't, of course. John Atkinson, Robert Baird, and I work with a very dedicated, talented, patient, and understanding team. It only feels a bit lonely sometimes; I think that's in the job description for "Managing Editor." Every day, I feel a little more…
These are my MIMOBOT flash drives. In theory, these cute little guys would go back and forth, delivering InDesign and image files, between me and our graphic designer, Pip. That's how we make the magazine, you see: We pass files back and forth and voila!
But I love these little guys too much to part with them, so I let Pip use her own dang flash drives.
Typically, they just sit there on my computer dashboard thing, looking at me with their funny little faces. Sometimes, when I get nervous or anxious, I pick one up, place it between my index finger and thumb and rub…
Me, too, Chan. I've lived in bars, too!
We've lived in bars
And danced on tables
Hotels, trains, and ships that sail
We swim with sharks
And fly with aeroplanes out of here
Out of here, out of here...
The last outstanding editorial piece of our April 2009 issue is now being magically teleported to our pre-press peeps. JA says that means it's "beer o'clock" for me and "Chardonnay accompanied by Jello Shots o'clock" for Pip.
I concur. I am thinking a Dale's. Or three.
Last week I participated in Music Matters IV, the latest in a series of evening events at Definitive Audio in Seattle. It was my first time, so I didn't know what to expect.
In an economy that has many stores on the ropes, Definitive is doing well—and I could see why. The store is drop-dead gorgeous, the staff in really knowledgeable, and store owner Mark Ormiston has pared the lines down to a selection of brands known for solid engineering and superb customer service.
(That's actually crucial—stores that have "everything" seem attractive, but stores that focus on what they…
I have loved Drag City for many, many reasons including: Royal Trux, Silver Jews, Red Krayola, Fucking Champs, Joanna Newsom, Bill Callahan, Jim O'Rourke, and more.
Today, I love them for this: They don't take the small stuff—the important stuff; the fundamentals—for granted. In a recent Drag City newsletter, they remind us of how to listen.
You know, earlier in this email, we were railing against modern consumers and their parasitical non-consumerism—tough stuff—when we stopped to think for a moment, are we selling the youth of today…
Monday is a holiday. President's Day. I am happy about that. I need a day off like our country needs a stimulus package.
Typically, on Fridays before a three-day weekend, we are granted a 1pm closing time, so we can, like, get us a jumpstart on all the fun, or something. I don't know. It usually stresses me out; I wind up rushing around, trying to accomplish everything on my list before the office becomes a ghost town.
This is just the kind of person I am; I get stressed out about the slightest bumps in my daily routine. I can't even believe my armpits right now. They are…