The worst thing about end of year polls is that they all come out in early December, which is hilarious because that means nobody got to talk about one of the best albums of the year. The Beyoncé album, called Beyoncé, was released with no fanfare, no reviews, and no warning. It then became one […]
In its obsessions with identity, fantasy v. reality, the feeling of being watched, it couldn’t be more of its time.
Music to bury your parents to. Music to shake yourself to sleep to. Music to make a traffic jam seem poetic. Music to make you a better person. Music to make you the worst person you’ve ever been. Music to stalk children to. Music to save the world to.
I don’t care who you are and what you know, this song is 14 levels of gorgeous.
I can’t listen to this album unless it’s late at night or early in the morning, ’cause normal daylight doesn’t do it justice.
The extra reading is well worth your time. I’m way more entertaining than I need to be, given the subject matter.
I want to be with you everywhere
Consider the evidence. The sound of college radio is Rusted Root.
It’s as if [Steve] Malkmus had spent his college years digging the groove of [Paul] McCartney’s second solo album instead of [Mark E.] Smith’s band’s fifth one.
The new Animal Collective album bores the shit out of me. It’s tedious and unimaginative. It is lazy in every conceivable sense — lyrically, melodically, sonically, creatively.