The first kid I knew who listened to punk rockwas Danny Perlowitz. I have a distinct memory of him in 1978 bouncing on the balls of his feet, clad in a leather jacket that never came off and blue jeans, making his way through a crowded high school Continue reading →
I find it hard to concentrate these days. I’m unable to finish even the simplest book. And the meaty stuff is stacking up ever higher. All signs of drawing too close to the borders of darkland, which is understandable but undesirable.
Writing about music, it strikes me, is like painting about health. Why? Because in both cases it’s about rendering an internal state in a mode that one hopes is accessible to others. Quite often the attempt fails.
But at AHC we were never supposed to be just about the foibles, self-serving and otherwise, of the elites. We were supposed to be about the things that feed the mind and soul: books and music. All else is ego. We’ve done books but I’ve resisted music. Let’s try.
What prompts me is a shuffle moment–one of those times when the right song comes up at random and you have to rethink your relationship to it. Yesterday it was a song by Paul Weller and The Jam. (I’m sparing you the Continue reading →