This is Greil Marcus: he views the end of the ’60s and the start of the ’70s through the changing aesthetics of the Rolling Stones, and offers his most tender response when asked about, in this case, Elvis. But when asked about himself, he just shuts down.
Writer Chris Roberson's offer of a bold new Elric as struggling with notions of American identity on a grand historical scale couldn't be more timeous. But does he lose the quintessential nature of Moorcock's command over various genre?
Somewhat awkward, clunky and charming on his TV show, Pete Seeger seemed to trust the viewers in the same way he recognised that TV's priorities don't represent the priorities of the people he meets in his travels.
Why wouldn't they burn out instead of fade away? Berman examines the sad spectacle of punk-rock reunions and shows how they destroy the two elements that actually made punk attractive: sex appeal and impermanence.
Convinced as I was by Marcus' readings, I couldn't help noticing that the primary subjects of all four chapters were works produced by white men: Philip Roth, David Lynch, Bill Pullmanm and David Thomas.