By Todd A. Brownlie
Stepping into a comic book series can be confusing and frustrating for most newcomers. Big name heroes, like the X-Men and Captain America, have been around for decades, with story arcs and characters so fleshed-out, it requires constant research into their past history. Maybe it’s the lack of dialogue or even a thin, uninspired plot in a series that will instantly cause you to set the issue down and just walk away.
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By Hanna
1. In the future, David Bowie will flirt with black men and we will do experimental dance. ALL DAY.
By Danny R. Phillips
Growing up in a family of country music fanatics I have always been quite aware of the legendary status surrounding one Mr. Conway Twitty. His classic country “slow jams” have been favorites of cover bands, drunken karaoke singers, and honky tonk jukeboxes from Lubbock, Texas to Osaka, Japan.
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By Christian Lipski
It’s amazing to look back and really see how much of my life was dedicated to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’m sure it’s the same for people who were really into sports or D&D or any other life-consuming hobby. At the time, though, it was just Rocky, and that was it. It was just what I did.
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By Adam McIntyre
If pressed about my blues preferences, influences, or interests, I’ll stammer for a moment, name some greats, and whatever single, obscure guitarist I can vaguely pluck from my past to show that maybe we have common interests, and that I’ve educated myself a little deeper than your average blues wanker.
It’s much simpler, actually, than naming a few names once I think about it; I’m mostly a blues racist and an elitist. Oops, yeah, did I just call myself a blues racist? That’s weird, definitely, but here’s the deal: I stopped playing blues because I became increasingly self-conscious about coming across as some angsty white kid in a tie, absentmindedly regurgitating legitimately black licks.
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By Ann Clarke
Sure, I got this idea from all of the redundant questionnaires on Facebook that I fill out, but it got me thinking. . . there are a lot of bad ideas out there that are overrated and stupid, but large masses of people seem to think they are so great. What are they seeing or hearing that I’m not? Most of the time I am in disbelief as to how people can enjoy certain things, but it really is one of those “to each their own” ideologies! With that said, I’ve compiled a big list of what I think is SHIT, and I don’t mean “The Shit”. . . just SHIT! Some of the items are similar in theory, so I will have to merge some into subcategories.
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By Chelsea Spear
If In the Aeroplane Over the Sea were a child, that child would be entering middle school right now. That the landmark album turned eleven in February of this year is a bit unbelievable. It certainly doesn’t sound as though it’s been around for that long. Some of the album’s elements, like its tarnished brass-band arrangements and intoxicating, passionate vision sounded out of step with the detatched irony of indie rock in 1998, while others—like the evocation of Anne Frank and the rich melodies—were simply timeless.
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By Less Lee Moore
I grew weary of the Hutchence/Geldof/Yates love triangle drama in the ’90s, so I wasn’t completely shocked by Michael Hutchence’s death. But when the remaining band members subsequently devised a reality show to find a new lead singer, I was offended on behalf of Hutchence as well as my own ’80s INXS fandom. His voice was sensual and bluesy, yet perfectly poised for pop songs. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until he was gone. Which is why the fact that he’ll never be able to cover “Some Kind Of Wonderful” (or sing and perform ever again, for that matter). makes me so very sad. In addition, INXS was one of the rare bands who utilized saxophone judiciously rather than embarrassingly and that would have been a great asset in a reimagining of this song.
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By Chelsea Spear
The Passions first came to me on a cloud of cinema nostalgia, flickering with maroon-tinted images of Laboratory Aim Density Girls and smelling faintly of vinegar. John Heyn, best known for co-directing the infamous Heavy Metal Parking Lot, had cut a short film of China Girl images to the tune of “I’m In Love with a German Film Star.” The images and footage of China Girls left me gobsmacked (more about that here), but the song lingered in my mind long after I first viewed the short. Though the British band’s albums were elusive on this side of the pond, a copy of Thirty Thousand Feet Over China surfaced in a bag of donations my boyfriend received at his job in a library.
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By Less Lee Moore
When first heard Michael Hurtt and His Haunted Hearts, I was dazzled. I’d seen Hurtt play with The Royal Pendletons dozens of times when I lived in New Orleans, but this was something altogether different.
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