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 Everett True

Song of the day – 182: Pigeonhed

I have an awful lot of time for Seattle’s Steve Fisk, and not only because a) people have mistaken us for brothers, b) he’s the only man alive I know that’s grumpier than me, and c) I once appeared in a pick-up band alongside him and our cartoonist buddies Peter Bagge and Eric Reynolds playing […]

 Everett True

Back when I was a working critic, part two

I’m trying to avoid working here, so here’s another excerpt. Taken from 2001, I believe. FRIDAY AUGUST 17 2001 Clever, friendly and articulate, I notice I have no memory of the events that transpired more than three days hence. The sun beats down upon a town of ingrates and foreign students, each more desperate than […]

 Everett True

Back when I was a working critic, part one

(Excerpted from my 2001 journal, posted at the Tangents archives.) Saturday July 8 … so I’m stuck high up in the rafters at Dublin’s Lansdowne Road international football ground, freezing my fucking fingers off, chatting to Dave Simpson about the stupidity of editors and the rise and rise of PRs in the music business industry […]