Mattie White remembers July 23, 1999, as the day her life was turned upside down.
In more than fifteen years of rock-and-roll touring, my worst night of
sleep followed a June 10, 1989, show at Centro Sociale Leoncavallo, an
anticapitalist squat in Milan.
Picture this: you're stranded on a desert island with nothing to comfort
you but sand, sun and, miraculously, the solar-powered sound system that
washed up with you.
Fifteen years ago, rappers like Public Enemy, KRS-One and Queen Latifah
were received as heralds of a new movement.
Russell Simmons, known for decades as Rush to his friends, is of average
height and build for a man his age (45), with a cleanshaven face, bald
dome and light complexion.
In Hicksville, Long Island, on any given Sunday afternoon, pierced and
tattooed teenagers in black clothing gather to listen and watch as
groups of kids like themselves tear their fingertips on
The Chicago-based magazine Punk Planet--nominated for the past
two years in Utne Reader's Alternate Press Awards for "General
Excellence," along with such better-heeled competitio
On the self-titled debut record by punk/dance band Le Tigre, there's a
short song called "Eau d'Bedroom Dancing" that pays tribute to the
timeless tradition of spinning around one's bedroom, al
Trent Lott has grudgingly relinquished his grip on the Senate majority
leader post, but that doesn't mean that the Republican Party has purged
"the spirit of Jefferson Davis" that Lott famously
How does a fiercely anticorporate musician feel about participating in a
corporate entertainment system?
They say history repeats itself. But usually not quite so quickly.
As the general strike against President Hugo Chávez entered its
third week in early December, a major TV channel broadcast statements by
baseball hero Andres Galarraga and other celebrit
I went to a reception the other night to celebrate the efforts of a
group called the Innocence Project, which provides legal assistance to
prisoners for whom the technology of DNA testing may n
As an unabashed, nail-biting Oakland Raiders fanatic who sits in the nose-bleed seats and who just bought my grandson pajamas and a dishware set emblazoned with the team's infamous pirate logo, I
Darn, but those weapons of mass destruction keep turning up in the wrong places.
Some family values.
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We now feel warm toward Albert Gore,
Who will not run in aughty-four.
Most candidates, I must admit,
Seem at their best the day they quit.
So onward into 2003 we go, amid INS roundups of Middle Easterners in
Southern California and the grand hunt for Saddam's "material breaches,"
which could be a song out of Gilbert and Sullivan.
I have a friend who is the only black person living in his luxury
cooperative building. A few years back, there was a
I first read Samuel Delany's Tales of Nevèrÿon during
the high-geek days of junior high.
As Trent Lott struggled to "repudiate" segregation fifty years after it
was outlawed, about the only point he left out of his incoherent
counterattack is that he was a soul-music fan.
It's a shame that Savion Glover is trying so hard to hide from the
world, because he's the greatest tap dancer who ever breathed.
Topic magazine is a kaleidoscopic new British literary review,
still in its infancy and edited by a bunch of precocious Cambridge
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