I spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking/mildly obsessing about the lives of famous musicians. I mean if you’re someone like Paul McCartney or Bob Dylan, do you wake up in the morning and think to yourself, “Fuck me! I’m Paul McCartney, I was in the Beatles, I helped change pop culture and music forever […]
Even as I leave she’s still walking the stage, taking and giving flowers and hands, smiling and talking.
Cat Power plays at The Tivoli in Brisbane, with support from Mick Turner.
NME.COM takes churnalism to new depths while Pitchfork’s Cover Story shows how to do web publishing
Sun isn’t as haunting as Moon Pix, but it’s every bit as full. It’s the first Cat Power album that isn’t afraid to look you in the eye. You can dance to it. It’s sexy and confident in a way that makes you feel sexy and confident. It’s a personal triumph as much as a musical one.
I mainly checked this band out due to Pitchfork not being into them.
If you want to be immortal, have them play Dirty Three at your funeral.
Scott Creney reacts to Chuck Klosterman’s article about tUnE-yArDs pretty much exactly the way you’d expect him to
I’m not a huge fan of Tuneyards, but I think this article is a massive pile of shit. No maybes about it.
She’s from Finland, apparently. Remind me never to go there.