Bill Callahan has just published a book with Drag City— Letters to Emma Bowlcut. I’m not sure if it’s a novella, an epistle, or one hell of a big poem. But questions like that are beside the point.
Peter Moysaenko talks with Mark Strand about books as objects, collage, and the difference between “mystery” and “ignorance.”
Josh has a bunch of degrees. He’s also written a nice stack of books. If you read a poem of his you might agree that there’s something wild-eyed and ghostly about it. Part 1 of a 2 part conversation.
Melissa Broder puts it on the line—practical fantasy, art as oppression, pasties and pole dancing, cross-genre collab, faith, fashion, booze and acid, brooding teens. Yeah, and poetry.
If I must, I will begin with an apology—I’m sorry. I missed the first band.
X is for Xerox, Gen, and the kind films Steak Mtn. designs sets for. Peter Moysaenko lunches with him and discusses the process and degradation behind SM’s transgressive visions.
Peter Moysaenko on Luljeta Lleshanaku’s reading at Posman Books.
Thom Andersen’s 2003 cine-essay is a dense and nearly unrelenting 169-minutes of footage culled from hundreds of different films which, set to pleasantly acerbic narration.
Josh has a bunch of degrees. He’s also written a nice stack of books. If you read a poem of his you might agree that there’s something wild-eyed and ghostly about it. Part 2 of a 2 part conversation.
The diction pops incessantly, and cuts like “Dear Aging Anarchist,” and “Sweet Spot” serve up a sense of rock ‘n’ roll poetics, brute and oblique.
“You aren’t supposed to strive in Wyoming,” says city reporter Melanie in a selection from Alyson Hagy’s newest title, a series of short stories set amidst the raw and heavy American West.
I’d never heard of Srečko Kosovel, but that shouldn’t come as too great a shock. Raised in a desolate region of Slovenia, educated in Ljubljana, dead by 22, Kosovel is just now reaching the New York shore.
Before we even crack its cover, Rick Snyder’s first full-length, Escape from Combray, promises action. As the title references the hometown of Proust’s memorable, nameless front man, so does it hint at themes of origin and transience.
Writing the Silences is only Richard O. Moore’s second book, decades of poems—a lifetime of poems—pared into one stark collection.
The Way Out is a joyful record, deftly using a miscellany of samples to create experimental, engrossing music.
Peter Moysaenko reviews Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals, photography by Christopher Payne, and essay by Oliver Sacks.
The style of Unknown Mortal Orchestra is at once new and incredibly varied, ranging from funk to psychedelia to garage riffs to surf vibes.