Four Vignettes From Bonnaroo
The band started and intense sighs were released. They were good. Really good. Way better than I expected, even. For an hour the tent was a rippling mass, all fist pumps and body spasms.
The band started and intense sighs were released. They were good. Really good. Way better than I expected, even. For an hour the tent was a rippling mass, all fist pumps and body spasms.
Sports Night was a critically-acclaimed, but poorly viewed dramedy that ran on ABC in the late 90s. On the surface, it’s a fictional behind-the-scenes look at what it takes to produce a live television sports show; look closer and you see that the show has very little to do with sports and instead is an unparalleled depiction of reality on television.
There’s the possibility—and I dearly hope that this is the case—that Perry covered this song to poke fun at the music industry and pop scene. Really, there is little difference between what Katy Perry does and what Rebecca Black did; Perry’s songs are just as heavily produced and manufactured as “Friday” was.
The most important idea proven by these groups is that if you have good ideas, talent that others believe in and the ability to put your name out in the world, you can succeed with little outside influence. You can be yourself and be successful.
For those who watched the show almost two decades after the original airing, as I did, or those who will watch it now for the first time on Netflix Instant Watch, the elements that make it addicting might not be so clear. It’s because it’s a well-made soap opera.
I am sorry to inform you of this, but you are dead. Do not be confused by what may appear to be normal signs of life: breathing, a pulse, a thought. I have diagnosed you and you are certainly, unequivocally, without a doubt dead. There will be no eulogy, no funeral. I have buried you in the region of my body farthest from my head.
This video is cute, no doubt about that, but it’s also a little disturbing. I have never seen babies this animated and vocal. I really can’t decide if what these two are doing is simple mimicry or if a conversation is taking place. The answer should be obvious, but they are very convincing for the latter.
Last night, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, the celebrated post-rock band from Montreal, Quebec, played to a sold-out crowd in Detroit. This was the last American date of their reunion tour. I was lucky enough to be a part of the experience and learned a couple things along the way.
Thanks to Rebecca and her production team, we’ve turned a corner and there is no going back. It took me two full viewings before I figured out that this wasn’t a joke. (Parts that stumped me: when the rapper suddenly appears, when she says “gotta have my bowl”).