September 2010
6 posts
There were many epic moments during Friday’s Of Montreal show at Terminal 5:
1) When my friend and I went totally beserk upon hearing the first blurpy, ectastic notes of ”The Party’s Crashing Us!”, flailing around maniacally like a pair of black wizards. This is probably the moment when the bell sleeve on my new party dress was doused in some unidentifiable liquid within...
Sex Karma: Why Are We Not Getting Ours?
Pitchfork’s closing remarks on of Montreal’s solid latest release, False Priest, were rather disconcerting to me: “it might also be time for Barnes to find his muse outside of the bedroom.” Um, what? Is any muse really found outside of the den of iniquity? I thought the muse was always somehow of the fleshy realm. Whether in actual idealized male/female form, or as a representation of those...
This weekend I will:
Return to the lush, verdant, oceanview paradise of my childhood…
and realize that nostalgia has a funny way of omitting the parts of a place that are less than desirable such as…
Young mothers wearing sweatpants and t-shirts emblazoned with ”Wildcat Cheerleader 1998”, screaming after their 3 toddler-sized sons while standing in the middle of...
