Friend and avant-garde folkster Normanuniform (some 12apostrophes readers may know him as Eric Nolan) has released his new album, Woodways, on a Website I built for his music.

Check it out: www.normanuniform.net.

On July 15, everyone’s favorite youthful necromancer this side of Mickey’s Apprentice, returns for another enchanting installment. The hilarity begins when a wicked school marm, in league with the mighty Wormawort, who if you believe the bumper stickers is widely supported by Republicans, punishes Harry’s entire class for turning the chalkboard eraser into a toad.

In the previous 13 installments of this series, Harry has had to learn tough lessons on his way to otherworldly wizardry. Now, however, as we begin the next eighteen-part chapter of this long awaited series, Harry emerges as the ensorcelling hocus-poser we’ve all . . .

Continue Reading »

Pulao, Jayu, and I saw the worstest of worst movies at a friend’s house the other night. I saw the box at the movie store and picked it up of my own free will, even though the title was I’m Reed Fish, which should have told me all I needed to know. I saw the funny kid from the short-lived TV show Undeclared and the girl from Gilmore Girls, arm in arm, smiling up at me from the cover. They looked . . .

Continue Reading »

Last week, I saw M.I.A. at First Avenue with Pulao and some friends. M.I.A. (a.k.a. Maya Arulpragasam) is a British hip hop musician and visual artist, and, as a child, a refugee from the ethnic conflict in Sri Lanka.

The show was spectacular and high, high energy. I danced my butt off. M.I.A. rhymed from atop the speakers, crowd-surfed, and, at one point, climbed from the stage to the balcony without missing a beat.

For the song “20 Dollar” M.I.A. said, “Turn off the lights! I’m going to take you to Africa.”

. . .

Continue Reading »

A couple of weeks ago certain planets aligned and I went to two, count them, two concerts, Regina Spektor and Spoon. This is high living for me, since that comes to about 17% of the concerts I have attended in my life so far.

They were both amazing shows. But the venues were like apples and oranges, (literally) like downtowns and suburban malls. Specifically, like First Avenue and Myth the Nightclub. Going with the food simile again, more like apples (if you like apples) and something bad; let’s say spoiled milk.

Regina Spektor played at Myth, in Maplewood (a suburb . . .

Continue Reading »