previously_A trip to the Little Book Fair in Pittsburgh_here
Our editor is dead.
previously _ “Where I’m Going Tonight, No One Can Ever Hurt Me” _ here
The Warm Up
Something about that Teen Spirit allusion puts me off. Not from any point of particular malice or offense, but rather the gimmick. The size of it subdues any opportunity of homage or expansion on the initial thought, and only decadence is left as any bit of subtext because of Courtney Love and permission. Sure, “the price of fame,” but what’s different about Jay’s delivery or approach? The lyrics are the same, except a tad more agile in delivery. Watch the Throne said it better.
Allusion? Nah. A cheap lede at the head of some Arts & Living rag; another man’s words carrying another man’s song; or a hurried plea for a piggyback, and by the five minute mark you regret not listening to Nirvana instead.
We’re at zero. Momentum wasted. Team scattered. Different pictures fill the frames.
The same itch persists, hungry as ever, though slightly hesitant.
Saturday. A decision.
It’s all start-up, from here. Can’t see any finish line. Don’t want to. Let’s drift, you and I. Drift til we flip.
Listening the whole way.