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November 27, 2002
Looks like I'm going to be giving some readings over the next couple of weeks. The first one will be at the Movieside Film Festival "Pre-Party" on Friday, Dec. 6th at 8 p.m. It's being held at Acme Art Works, 1741 N. Western Ave., Chicago. Admission is $5.00, and there's supposed to be free food and cheap drinks. Then, I'll be reading at the Danny's Reading Series "Rock Essayists" event on Dec. 18th at 7:30 p.m. Danny's is located at 1951 W. Dickens in Bucktown, the heart of the Faux Loft District. [NOTE: This is a different date than the one I originally posted - the reading was moved forward a week.] Feel free to email me if you have any questions about either of these events.
November 20, 2002
THE HUMBLE PHENOMENOLOGY OF THE RIFF
My essay entitled "AC/DC: A Humanist Appraisal" appears in the latest issue of BRIDGE magazine (No. 5, Fall 2002).
November 15, 2002
November 14, 2002
INTERPOL: PDA
The video for this song seems to take place in some kind of post-Orwellian realm where one’s couture is constantly monitored on remote video by some guy with tousled hair and aviator glasses. The words “fashion” and “fascism” have fused, returning to the same fictional cognate. The populace then retaliates by donning the same exquisitely-tailored three-button suits that Big Brother wears. Now everyone is in deep cover. You and your sideways haircut escape to the roof to see if that mannequin you ordered will indeed arrive in thirty minutes or less. Digital smoke obscures your view. In this brave new world, you can’t buy a chess set where the chessmen are less than 4’ tall, and all of the sportscasters on TV look like Gary Numan. But a pop-up ad on your personal data assistant assures you that “We have two hundred couches where you can / sleep tight / dream right…” All the digital smoke effects in my apartment cause me to mishear another lyric as “You will not reach the ‘I Am.’” I’m disappointed later when I’m corrected. I really wish NYC bands would hone their lyrics as much as their riffs. This vague malaise stuff really puts you in a vague malaise. I want a sharply-defined malaise. Interpol, the Strokes, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs all have superb riffs, but I’m tired of having to read hairstyles as texts. It’s way too objective.
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