Red Earth is a very special recording: it offers joy and thought, African and African-American music, and a woman’s claiming her own power and recognizing the truth—the joy and the suffering—in the world.
A review of Long Afternoon of the World by Graeme Kinross-Smith
The photographs become everyone’s close people. The times and places become our own memories of what we’ve known, and been and where we’ve ended. It is, indeed, a long afternoon – and at the end of it is evening. Though this isn’t a fast novel to read, nor does it leave the reader with a denouement in any sense. Yet it is both beautiful, and powerful in its ability to draw out, like a great poem, the core meaning of a moment.
Dark Androgyne: Ephraim Lewis, Skin (The 15th anniversary)
Ephraim Lewis, in music, might have been an ideal for many others (he is that for me): a being of force and sensitivity, able to reconcile sophistication and soul, a being with an eye for reality and a heart for dreams, able to embody in music contradictions without being destroyed by their conflicts, the dark androgyne.
A review of lettre a d. histoire d’un amour by André Gorz
It really is a lovely, warm piece, and a weepy one for knowing the end of their story. I was relieved that the plan to end of their lives together was not chronicled here, because I became somewhat enamoured of both of them, and of the love they shared.
A review of Tremolo: cry of the loon by Aaron Paul Lazar
The real attraction of the book is – and this quality it shares with the other Gus LaGarde books – the charm of the author and the opportunity for the reader to share in a gracious life built on warm relations with family and friends. The joys of the table and the love of music and the appreciation of the quiet joys of reading embrace an ideal but not impossible world.
A review of Dark Paradise by Rosa Liksom
To come to a judgment: the pieces in Dark Paradise hit home more often than not, and the way in which an overarchingly oppressive mood is sustained frequently impresses.
A review of You Can’t Win by Jack Black
To sum up: this is a memorable book and was an influential one too, for the Beats especially (“on the road” is a phrase that recurs throughout; Kerouac seems to have palmed it from here). It is that rare thing: a cult book that lives up to its reputation. Its take-home message: the world is a tool for self-discovery; not at all bad for an autobiography.
Reconciliations: Anoushka Shankar and Karsh Kale, Breathing Under Water
Each has spoken of how natural their collaboration has been, allowing them to explore new aspects of their talents, while making a statement about how complementary different forms of music are: on Breaking Under Water, she, as composer and instrumentalist, handled some of the electronic productions and worked as a pianist, and he composed, and played guitar, drums, and even sang.
There Is No Cure for Human Nature: Donnie, The Daily News
Sometimes gospel singers slur their words as part of their technique, a changed diction suggesting a changed spirit; and Donnie has identified some gospel singers as his antecedents: Rance Allen, Darryl Coley, John P. Kee, and James Moore. Donnie’s social imagination harkens back to Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield, and Sly Stone; and, amazingly, he does not suffer in comparison. However, he does not want to be—and is not—a nostalgia act.
Self-conscious Beauty and Contemplation: The Shepherd’s Dog, by Iron and Wine, featuring Sam Beam
With its somewhat ominous beginning, I had hoped that “Peace Beneath the City” might give a surprise—but it seems little more than atmosphere, intriguing atmosphere but merely atmosphere, although the lyrics seem to be intricate and about many deaths, with bodies buried beneath the city.