|
Regina Spektor's Far (Warner) is exactly the kinda brilliant I've come to expect from the Bronx ivory tickler. Catchy, idiosyncratic, deep, weird. But I'm worried. Is our beloved Regina destined to melt into a pool of precious quirkiness? Or maudlin Tori Amosity? She's not there yet, but I'm worried.
—Patrick Rapa
|
|
Now that the weather is consistently nice, I can break out my ultimate summer tunes. Because The Kinks surely do not deserve to be listened to when it's cold and wet. Sure, their lyrics aren't the sunniest, dissecting the British Empire and its domestic class structure. But, they also write about girls. And how awesome it is to be them. And they're snotty enough to make it all work. "Waterloo Sunset," which I have said will be played at my funeral and my wedding (ha!), is the perfect soundtrack for sitting in the park and staring at the clouds.
—Molly Eichel
Baby Doll
|
—Molly Eichel
|
Sidney Poitier is not the protagonist in Percival Everett's I Am Not Sidney Poitier (Graywolf. May 26) — is he? See, after 24 months of pregnancy, a woman — last name Poitier — gives birth to a son and names him Not Sidney. His life is spent explaining this to people: He's Not Sidney Poitier, but he's also not Sidney Poitier, despite the fact that he looks just like him and is friends with people like Ted Turner and Jane Fonda. In the end, you start to wonder if Sidney Poitier is even Sidney Poitier.
—Carolyn Huckabay
Comments
Be the first to comment on this article.