On the dark streets of Buenos Aries, Johnny Flynn plays a resonator, singing to no one. He’s an actor in the wrong play, singing the wrong serenade. But it works. His folk swagger is embedded into the “new south,” a true ghetto of a street where the down and out need the blues.
La Blogo Theque may have changed the way I think about music on the net. For the most part, I jump from site to song, and back again, taking in tracks from the first chord to the last resonating note, without much thought as to who or what the artist is or does before and after a performance. I can hear the track and almost see the singer’s floating jaw and swinging arms, but rarely do I see the...
David Byrne on the venue and music.
I love stripes.