An overlooked Motown Records songwriter.
“Do not sing to rain, poet, make it rain.”
His solos elliptically paraphrase his melodies.
Clarity and balance, not disorientation, were his artistic mainsprings.
Her chorines, molls, and paroled hookers know their onions.
She quietly contributed to dozens of nouvelle vague classics.
He defined or refined the dialogue comedy, the war picture, the detective yarn, and more.
Elected to poetry like a fucking nun with a “vocation.”
A slim, reticent oeuvre.
Stax, and soul, wouldn’t have been the same without him.
The witty founder of “ordinary language philosophy”
“Beware of Elvis.”
Trying to write about one clearly defined question at a time.
Franklin Bruno on hip hop’s dance crew The Lockers
Derrida said of this pop star: “He knows his Wittgenstein.”
He invented the breakbeat, a key element of hip-hop.
The “Master of Records” remains enigmatic despite his renown.
One of his key ideas is “anomalous monism.”
His is an unwieldy and rarely screened oeuvre.
“The most famous unknown artist in New York.”
Works of art to be completed by the audience…
His sound was brawny, guttural, and tremendously expressive.
“We ought to go into rehab, but we’re too stoned to care.”
High modernist experiments executed at pulpsmith rates.