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I wonder if there is a second before the duck dies, losing altitude, blood flying out of its mouth, when it remembers a huge billboard, with the men's faces and the line "The Beards Are Back," which it flew by days before. It might think to itself, "Really?"
After watching several minutes of one of America's most popular television shows, I came to the conclusion that Al Qaeda will win in the end. It's sad, I know.
Earlier today, from my window, I saw men running with lit torches. I thought to myself that finally the insurrection had started and we were all going to get faster download speeds, solar panels and single-payer health care, but it was just some traditional entertainment.
It's an interesting place to be waiting around in. There is a strange sense of comfort I submit to in overwhelming corporate environs engineered to pleasure mass amounts of people. The weather is balmy, the pace is languid and everyone is trying to unwind. I cannot.
There is great, I mean GREAT news to report: Marnie Stern's new album, The Chronicles of Marnia, came out recently and it is so damn good, I can barely stand it. Chronicles is the guitar-shredding, semi-math-rockin' woman's fourth album. I am perhaps not the best one to judge her work, as I find all of her albums to be quite fantastic. What Marnie does, musically, lyrically, is such a breath of fresh air and a testament to the fact that contemporary music is very alive and well.
Perhaps one of the biggest differences between Chronicles and her three previous efforts is the absence of drummer/cyclone Zack Hill. The man is a battering blur of physicality and finesse. He does sometimes achieve so much in a single song, none of the other players are able to get a word in edgewise.
For Chronicles, Ms. Stern employs the talents of Kid Millions of Oneida, who puts the music in a different place and gives Marnie some breathing room. Truly, Marnie Stern has staked out her own place in independent music and really is the proverbial all that.