BLASTFEST 2014: SKINNY BONES, THE GREYS, DINNERSSS
Blastfest 7, WFR‘s annual celebration of spring, was a week-long whirlwind of music moving in all directions. Last Tuesday’s show at Sunnyside…
Blastfest 7, WFR‘s annual celebration of spring, was a week-long whirlwind of music moving in all directions. Last Tuesday’s show at Sunnyside…
Okay, there’s a TANK. How can you not love a show which has a freakin’ TANK in it? Of course it’s…
Okay, there’s a TANK. How can you not love a show which has a freakin’ TANK in it? Of course it’s…
ITS VIRTUE IS IMMENSE: A Pre-Vinylite Society Tribute to Script Lettering Going to this show pretty much makes you want to go back…
ITS VIRTUE IS IMMENSE: A Pre-Vinylite Society Tribute to Script Lettering Going to this show pretty much makes you want to go back…
In some ways, NYMPH()MANIAC: VOL. 1, Lars von Trier‘s newest symphony of provocation, almost seems less like an actual movie than a…
I live in Austin, where house shows are rare. Basements are nearly non-existent due to the limestone bedrock that extends below central…
by Luke Pyenson This Winter/Spring, a few New England bands are coming through/have come through London, and I couldn’t be more thrilled….
My first stop at SOWA First Fridays this month was Find and Form Space at 524 Harrison Ave. This month’s show is “Light…
My first stop at SOWA First Fridays this month was Find and Form Space at 524 Harrison Ave. This month’s show is “Light…
Set in what seems to be the 1930’s between World War I and II, I am immersed in a fictional land where I must imagine myself walking through a fog bank somewhere in the likeness of the Czech, Slovakia, Switzerland, and Alaska. This land is foreign, but beautifully poetic. My thoughts greet me in the form of a dream-like poetry. I’ve entered the world of Wes Anderson.
Set in what seems to be the 1930’s between World War I and II, I am immersed in a fictional land where I must imagine myself walking through a fog bank somewhere in the likeness of the Czech, Slovakia, Switzerland, and Alaska. This land is foreign, but beautifully poetic. My thoughts greet me in the form of a dream-like poetry. I’ve entered the world of Wes Anderson.