Michael Nesmith’s proto-Americana songs had aged the least—listen to the jangly guitar and stream-of-conscious lyric on “Tapioca Tundra” and you’d swear that was where R.E.M. got the idea.
Like the Jon Savage book it is based on, “Teenage” avoids gooey nostalgia; the documentary’s enjoyable to watch, and refreshingly not tongue-in-cheek.
“Abe Lincoln’s Piano” does not evoke in us the same sense of astonishment that Hershey Felder feels toward his antiquarian discoveries.
Taken as a whole, “The Poets’ Wives” is a fascinating, brave novel whose love of poetry breathes through all three sections.
The tunes on Joey Pizza Slice’s new LP are personal enough to leave many listeners scratching their heads, asking “Is this guy for real?”
The Lyric Stage Company’s thoroughly enjoyable production more than does “Into the Woods,” Stephen Sondheim’s un-Disneyfied version of fairy tales, justice.
Howard Hersh hails from northern California, and, as in John Adams’ “City Noir,” the music on Hersh’s album, “Angels and Watermarks,” embraces polyglot West Coast culture in various ways.
For once, in Ronald Reagan’s America, youthful talent and energy seemed able to trump everything else.
Boston’s MFA should be congratulated for screening these Technicolor musicals in way that does wondrous justice to their eye-popping colors.
At last — industrial music made by real industrial machines played in a real industrial setting.