Turns out 500,000,000 Amy Winehouse fans were right. Go figure.

A close reading of the harrowingly intimate Joni Mitchell masterpiece, ‘Blue’.

Remember innocent optimism? The Beatles, 1965, the coolest humans ever born, making the finest music of our times.

I knew that if I lived long enough, someday this would make sense.
Happy Plague, everyone.

This is the way the world the world ends, this is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with Jeff babbling about the demigods playing ping-pong.
Wishing all of us, everywhere, health and peace of mind.

James Taylor: “When you’re 20, you’ve just been issued the equipment you’re going to be using for a whole lifetime—the body, the mind, the skills, the talents, the appetites…” It’s also when you face the awful truth about this life: Something’s Wrong.

Dylan, not as a kid pretending to be a cotton-picker in Greenwich Village; not him embarrassing himself as an Evangelist preacher; not as an old fool croaking standards–this is Dylan at his creative pinnacle.
It’s another side of Bob Dylan — unmasked, naked and vulnerable. We’re idiots, babe, it’s a wonder that we still know how to breathe.

In March, 1968, Laura Nyro wrote and sang about the joy of sex—not as a companion, an addendum, a decoration, but as a Woman–breaking the glass ceiling in popular music.