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In the waning weeks of 2019, right around the time I forgot to cancel a free week-long trial of Shudder after I’d signed up to watch One Cut of the Dead, I started poking around the strange world of 90s Memphis rap. This dovetailed rather nicely with a newfound

Some of my first memories with my Uncle Rich are of his car. When I was growing up on Long Island he would drive down from Philadelphia in a mustard-yellow sedan–outfitted with more stereo equipment than most people ever put in a home in their lifetime–to “crank tunes.

In the early 1960s, Steve Hiett was studying at the Royal College of Art in London when his friend Dave called him up. Dave knew a band called The Pretty Things who had a gig that night and whose guitar player had fallen ill; he also knew Hiett played the

For roughly three weeks now in New York City, the temperature has hovered around 87 degrees Fahrenheit. You wouldn't say it's unseasonably humid--this is plenty seasonable--but it's unbearable nevertheless. The city's denizens crank the A/C, break out the fans, and glumly accept higher electric bills. Everyone walks around coated

My first summer job was as a secretary in the office of an orthopedic surgeon. I wanted to work at J. Crew (or, barring that, any retail store who's wares I enjoyed, as I wanted free shit) but they wanted references, and I had none. My dad was friendly with

By the late 1970s, Sonny Sharrock was an obscurity living in quasi-retirement. As jazz was fusing with rock and an emergent avant-garde in the decade prior, Sharrock was a sideman on several classics (including an uncredited appearance on Miles Davis’s A Tribute to Jack Johnson) and recorded a defining