I’ve spent the last couple of months in someone else’s space, dealing with someone else’s stuff.
Some people are about the having, and others are about the searching.
My daughter can’t stand live recordings of her favorite songs. For her, it’s studio versions or bust.
That’s my mom up there holding the kid doing a Curly Howard impression.
It seems that everyone harbors secret fantasies of being a writer.
Body modification may predate civilization, but it didn’t hit mainstream American culture until the early ’90s.
Heroin is some creepy shit.
One of the fun things about working for Diffuser is the opportunity to tailor my pretty broad musical tastes to fit their slightly narrower editorial sensibilities. There are lots of great songs […]
What you’re looking at is a big collection of rock and roll footnotes.
Only a nineteen-year-old man would bristle at being called “safe and normal.” At that age a guy looks in the mirror and sees “Wild One” Brando reflected back with no idea that […]