The sixty-seven-year-old poet, singer, actor, artist, and “screaming philosopher,” Tomokawa Kazuki, made his American debut on a Thursday in early November.
I must confess; I'm an imposter. I am sincere, and my intentions are good—I am a music maker, and the importance of the art and my values around it are my foundation for criticism. And I’m no dilettante; I have performed over the decades at classical venues, CBGB, and weddings. I compose music that others play. My dedication is serious. Why else write hundreds of thousands of words for less than starvation wages? But as a critic, I’m an imposter. Without comped access, there’s no way I could afford to see any of the musical events I attend. In a way, I’m in disguise as an audience member.
It Just Gets Out of Hand: JOHN COHEN In Conversation with Stephen Ellis, Ivy Sheppard, and David Sheppard
John Cohen, now eighty-five, has been part of more influential cultural moments and close to more seminal figures in music, photography, painting, and film than would seem possible for any one person.
At the end of Diamanda Galás’s generous and delicious encore to her spell-binding Halloween show, she sang “Pardon Me, I’ve Got Someone to Kill” and “Gloomy Sunday.” A man in the row behind me wept loudly.
Earlier this year, I was having dinner with a musician friend of mine. We got to talking about music, what we’d been listening to recently, etc., and my friend confessed that as of late he hadn’t really been listening to anything.
With ken, his twelfth studio release, Dan Bejar, frontman of Destroyer, reiterates his signature style of balancing elusiveness and accessibility—lyrically and sonically.
So folks, Paris is winding down. Countdown ten days until we return to the Apple even though you’ll be reading this a month after we are back.