Being addicted to British television has its perks. In addition to off-color sitcoms and Welsh cartoons, the BBC has a very nice way with music documentaries. Synth Britannia is a well-researched, extremely interesting piece about how a once marginalized and underground genre of music came to be the defining style of a decade. It’s difficult to imagine PBS devoting the same kind of attention and care to these acts’ American counterparts, mainly (I suppose) because production costs would far outweigh interest in the subject. Read the rest of this entry »
Archive for the ‘Specific Places’ Category
March 30th, 2010
On such a series of rainy days it’s hard to be patient for the inevitable promised spring flowers or the long, drowsy days of summer. This is the difficult transitional phase, the growing pains of a season that just isn’t quite ready to step up to the plate.
For some reason, days like this make me think of northern France. Directly south of the English cliffs at Plymouth there is a town called Brest. It was almost entirely destroyed during World War II, left with only three buildings standing. In 1945, the poet Jacques Prévert published his poem Barbara, which I think is a fitting complement to such a day as this. If you are feeling a little wistful, a little longing for a rainy sea and a French day that smells of brine and wet wood, on a beach where the horizon melts into the earth– this is the mix for you. Read the rest of this entry »
November 30th, 2009
Last week I was in southern California, driving around, trying to get a better idea of what constitutes American identity. It’s pretty amazing that this country is so incredibly diverse and yet manages to be cohesive enough to aspire to a national archetype. Landing in LA, the tall palms swaying against dry air, I felt as far away from New York as I did in Finland. Read the rest of this entry »
April 10th, 2009
So, spring is finally eking its way across America, reaching small fingers to my corner of Brooklyn. As a sort of anticipation of the summer, I’ll head due south for this mix, to New Orleans.
I grew up a few hours from New Orleans, and to be honest, it has doggedly followed me around since the first time I visited. They say that the city either gets in your blood or not– it chooses some people to retain for its own, some people to leave outside the circle of influence. Even before the hurricane, it could be a vicious place, full to the brim with poverty, a dark past replete with the worst offenses of the colonial era, and a bizarre, violent sense of humor. It was very cruel… and very beautiful. Read the rest of this entry »
November 18th, 2008
Let’s cut away from the strobe lights, neon gyrating, and glitter for a second to see what’s going on in a sweaty, ill-lit, bottle festooned basement bar down the street. Well, I’ll be hog-tied: it’s Post Punk! Read the rest of this entry »
November 3rd, 2008
The winds of change, they are a-blowin’. This, combined with the steadily cooling weather puts me in the mood for Tropicalia. Started in Brazil in the sixties, the movement encompassed a diverse mash of influences, taking on guises from many styles of music, poetry, and literature. It ended abruptly in 1968 when Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, the leaders and most recognized voices of Tropicalia, were incarcerated on false charges by Brazil’s right wing military dictatorship. Though later released, they were exiled from the country for four years. Many of their contemporaries were not even this fortunate, undergoing torture and forced “psychiatric care” for their artistic creations, lifestyles, and attempts at cultural syncretism. Read the rest of this entry »
