i’m reading less and less on a regular basis, and today some phantom coffee has kicked in and left me running around doing nothing getting increasingly stressed. maybe the two things are related. maybe it’s the latent caffeine floating around in the french ether.
either way, i’ve just found my cure. thank you d. strauss. tying music reviews to the ennui of later capitalism is the kind of feat i only see you pull off. this month jazz is the key and you’ve really gone to town on the subject. i can’t help but offer a couple of gems thrown up this month:
“We let London die, then Paris. And now New York has croaked, if not from active neglect. In fact, neglect is what allowed it to once thrive, maggots spilling off of fertile meat. But as for London/Paris/NY: Every journalist knows that three examples compose a trend, and a trend often constitutes a pathology. New York City will soon be entirely meat with no maggots to nurture. Perhaps our own tragedies are so intense that we missed the edifice collapsing around us.”
it’s not a crime thriller, so permit me to steal the ending:
“And, for the jazz musician, the city dweller, the prideful outsider: Inner life is just about all we have left. At least we can remember and, perhaps, be inspired by memory. And then have those inspirations ignored.”
enough of the eulogies. if you ever want a place to store your words mr strauss, then popround would be more than happy to accommodate you.