On Sunday night, I returned from Wilco’s Solid Sound Festival, which, it turns out, is a lot like Disneyland. (Well, technically Disney World is the Magic Kingdom, but I like Disneyland better, so we’re going with that.)
In the digital-music age, I was a still-buying-CDs holdout for a long time. In the olden days, I’d meet my friend at the Union Square Virgin Megastore and spend hours browsing the rows letter by letter. Music recommendations were exchanged, purchases were debated, concert memories were remembered, new…
First, a public service announcement: After seven-ish years of intermittently trying, I finally get Arcade Fire — or, at least, The Suburbs. It’s the ultimate idealistic/brooding/overthinking/angst-filled/nostalgic/trapped-in-suburbia twentysomething album. Not that any of that…
People often ask why I see the same artists in concert over and over (and over). “Aren’t all the shows the same?” Well, no. They evolve, release new albums and songs, try different arrangements, play new instruments, bring out different guests, and sometimes change their sound completely or…