When you hear of the “good old days”, it’s usually from some middle-aged white man — an uncle, perhaps — who wants to tell you how things were just better then. I suspect you’ve heard this spiel before, around the kitchen table, in a boardroom, or online. This hypothetical man usually leaves out that it wasn’t such a great time for many people. And yet, how much art, how many books and albums and retrospectives continue to be released that lionize, in some way or another, this alleged golden era?
By: Richie Guzman About a month ago, I was DJing my monthly night at Odd Thomas with my friend and fellow DJ, Sanga Genesis. It was 2:15 a.m. and the […]
Nap Eyes are a bit of an anomaly in the current musical landscape: a deconstructionist Canadian garage band from East of here (Halifax/Montreal) whose songwriting is strong, and whose playing is raw and articulate. Moreover, they’re getting a fistful of nice press from people who seem genuinely eager to explain what they like about the group.
By: Daniel Reynolds 1. I agreed to attend the AGO’s Massive 10 party at the behest of my friend Antonio. I’d never heard of the event before. While I like […]
By: Patrick Grant Total singularity in art is impossible. The highest compliment that can be paid an artist is that they got pretty damn close. There aren’t too many bands […]
By: Daniel Reynolds If the hegemony of the recording industry is indeed continuing to break apart, then the borders and barriers that shape and control music – who makes it, […]
By: Daniel Reynolds As we all know, the most important element of the annual event known as the Oscars is not the awards themselves, or the films involved, or, good […]
By: Daniel Reynolds In the realms of sport, entertainment, business: everybody loves a winner. By extension then, everybody must love a win-win trade, right? All the involved parties get what […]
By: Kaitlin Traynor When I turned 6, my uncle gave me a subscription to Highlights for my birthday. The first issue arrived a few weeks later, appearing on our doorstep […]
By: Daniel Reynolds There’s this great visual metaphor in the new film Dallas Buyers Club involving a painting of some wild desert flowers, holes hammered roughly into drywall, and the […]