Damian Purdy

Old man, look at your life

You are Neil Young. How nice. You are the idol of the rock critics and the overly-ponytailed dads. You are the “living legend,” one of…


Musical memory memory memory

Drop-jawed and dead-eyed, they sat soundless, and stared. It was employee #3263827, the “Arts Editor,” who spoke first, in a halting voice. “Do you have…


False Dichotomies

False Dichotomies is a continuing column that unfairly pits two things against one another to determine, definitively, which is better. This week: watching the entire…


Life after death

Whoa, you just died. Nice one. Only a moment ago, there you were — alive, lying in bed, in a clean, white room. Your family…


Viva L’viv

When the poet Walt Whitman declared that “the art of art and the glory of expression [ . . . ] is simplicity,” he was,…


Eat, Sleep, Drink Evil

Christening your band “Goatwhore” is definitely not the path of least resistance to widespread social acceptance. This is unfortunate, because to hear lead singer Ben…


The Fright Stuff

Gape-mouthed monsters overrun swirling landscapes of fever and dream. The preternatural world consorts freely with ours, often to violent and surreal effect. Aesthetic touchstones such…


Give Up Now

The only way to avoid the crushing moment-to-moment parade of utter hopelessness that is “life” is to give up now. Believe me, it is beautiful…


Just don’t call it “Alt-country”

“Yacht rock.” “No Wave.” “Late-Baroque contrapunctual Galante.” “Miami Booty Bass.” People – usually non-musicians – seem to possess a near-militant will to categorize music into…


Don’t sell them short

Though many film-goers bemoan the deadening lack of originality in mainstream cinema, only a few bother to seek out alternatives. Sure, fare like the independent…