The archetypical Kanye fan is no longer the person who listened to Dipset but also watched Def Poetry Jam. They have been essentially priced out of fandom.
How an obnoxious subset of their fan base led me away from the Tragically Hip, and Gord Downie brought me back.
There can be fantastic narrative dissonance when conflicting elements clash.
How the seminal series became a masterwork in scoring teen angst, one lawn-twirl at a time.
On the 25th anniversary of the release of The Black Album, an appraisal of how Metallica’s Post-Good era helped secure its legacy as the greatest American band of all time.
Let’s face facts: singing songs about really liking the Replacements isn’t paying our rent with the commies anymore.
Released thirty years ago, Prince’s directorial debut seemed calculated to frustrate the fans who bought tickets to Purple Rain weekend after weekend.
Not knowing what I’m talking about has probably been a hindrance in ways I am blessedly unaware of, but ultimately, my being wildly wrong about anything and everything hurts no one, not even me.
Are we in it together if someone refuses the context needed to see this thing changed?
On Beyoncé’s “Hold Up.”
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