Vukovi, “So Long Gone”
There will never be a point when I stop looking for new bands like this.
there will never be a point when i don’t love it when i have new bands like this brought to my attention by more attentive eyes than mine. definitely a big RIYL to anyone who took me up on biting into tricot’s t h e last year, i should think.
THIS IS SO GREAT! Tricot is right, this is kind of like Tricot x The Good Natured, or like the amazing pop record that Biffy Clyro have always been either too committed to weirdness for weirdness’s sake to make, or not committed enough. The guitar notes twisting off into the distance after the first chorus! <3
I don’t have many coherent thoughts about the Apple thing except I guess they’ve been a Dad brand for a while now and this feels like a real embrace of that. No shame in that, I’m a Dad myself. Watches and Bono, quantified jogging, nobody in tech is getting any younger after all, if you were a blogger or a guru or a rockstar in the mid-00s then you’re comfortably in your mid-30s now, maybe older - you’ve been pretty well validated, not fighting quite so hard, but it’s still nice to get together with the boys every few months and get fired up about Apple - they just CRUSHED it last night. That’s some great disruption right there. Bono and watches. Life is pretty good.
steve jobs was always distinctly a dad - those polonecks and jeans, that garage-tinkering, school-of-life-nothing-you’ve-learnt-is-wasted, zen-and-the-art-of-graphic-design - so good on apple for celebrating his memory through #leaningin to their innate #dadness and aiming for #fulldad
When Ground Zero was finally cleared after the fall of the twin towers, New Yorkers trusted that thoughtful, ambitious urban design could make the city whole again. Why have they been so badly let down?
aw, nothing like an article on sanctimonious rich douchebags ruining urban design in the morning.
“Um, excuse me. Can you move?” a man asked me on the train a few years ago.
I was in my seat fully and only carried a small bag. On my body, an all-sequined jacket. Dainty on the outside, but sharp upon touch. I had just bought it a month before and I began wearing it almost every other day. It was not a shield but rather a nod, a clap, a reassurance of whom I was becoming.
“I’m not in your seat,” I said confused.
“My legs need more room,” he said. His legs, his body, his space, his comfort, his self. I looked at him, shorter and smaller than me. What about my legs, my body, my space, my comfort, myself? I already gave more than I needed. What more did I have to give.?
I looked him over again. I didn’t move and returned to my book, the one I never put away, the one I never wanted to put away again.
He sat down and stretched out, spreading his body into my seat, his arms jutting into my own until I heard a low yelp.
“Ouch!” he cried. I looked over at him.
“Your jacket!” he shouted. Ah yes, my jacket. This jacket. Can you feel it all?