Thursday, October 10 2002
There was once, many years ago, a television program hosted by Oscar Peterson. It was all rather well heeled and respectable and was thought by
As the liner notes to The Rough Guide freely admit, the Appalachians stretch across a full eighteen states along the Eastern United States. That’s
The new record from France-based pop quartet Tahiti 80 begs the question: how long should good pop stay with us? The gravity of some good pop
If there’s a difference between being musically obtuse and being psychedelic, it’s to be found in bands like Snowglobe. Rather than being quirky
Inexplicably, sometimes the collaborative sum is far greater than the respective parts. No disrespect intended to the solo efforts of Jack Logan or to those
If there was ever a competition for “world’s most charming indie band”, Australia’s Lucksmiths would win it hands down. In a live setting,
Peter Gabriel is, to put it mildly, a mercurial artist. The guy who co-founded the prog-rock juggernaut Genesis when he was a teenager is now
It starts with the audience, the way it always did with the Blasters; they can still be caught live every once in a while, with
Fans of the Black Heart Procession’s usually downtempo, understated explorations of heartache and loss might stumble over Amore Del Tropico‘s first song, “Tropics
Ask the mole rat about the egomaniacal pursuit of what some in the military call 'command and control'.
Just as we have overworked our ears to the point that we are nearly deaf and subjected our eyes to all sorts of visual clutter, we have overworked our noses to the point that our noses hardly know what to tell us.
Sikov's book may be the most painful celebrity bio I've read since Albert Goldman's 'Elvis' (the similarities between the two men's lives are startling)...
The sting of the word was undercut, however, by the humorous voices Rushdie used to emulate his characters, obliging the audience to consider the dialogue and the many ways that the word can act as a political fulcrum in American society.
Seems stuck in first gear, grinding through a series of very "safe" clichés.
While the book is laced with a youthful sense of wonder concerning life and death, the film is a troubled teenage love story.
Weaving together a vivid assemblage of stock footage, archival documents and talking-head spots, the movie winnows the book down to three of its more damning studies.
Speedy, colorful, and clever, The Transporter establishes Jason Statham as yet another next-generational, hybrid action hero.
What Swept Away calls love, I would call the usual terror and degradation that keeps battered women in dangerous relationships.
Attraction is not comprised of rules, only missed opportunities.
In its preoccupations with history, In Praise of Love suggests if one has no history, one has no basis for thinking about or defining oneself.