Hey friends!

Well, I didn’t expect this week’s Mad Libs to include “Good Charlotte killing music journalism,” but such is the nature of constantly having to read new combinations of words. And that’s pretty mild in the grand, horrifying scheme of things! I’m a big proponent of “forcing yourself to believe that better things are possible,” and it’s kind of hard to get more disillusioned at this point, but that doesn’t make it easier to see bad news. Staying positive is also a challenge when it’s presumably still dangerous to take the edge off with a cilantro-laden banh mi! Such is the nature of perseverance.

I spent a decent chunk of last week watching a bunch of Almodóvar films that I hadn't seen yet. Of course, the Spanish director's distinct aesthetic is a huge draw, but I did not realize that the impeccable costuming in his body of work included Javier Bardem in a series of Looney Tunes t-shirts in Live Flesh. Great stuff! I love when characters are supposed to be sneaking around and everything is still bright red.

Willem Dafoe stars in Late Fame as Ed Saxberger, a onetime poet who has faded into obscurity over the decades. His work is resurfaced by a group of NYU Gallatin boys who dream of a New York that no longer exists. Hoping to reignite Ed’s creativity, they draw him into their social circle, which also includes Gloria (Greta Lee), a working actress who refuses to let the quality of her gigs get in the way of glamour. I do have some questions about the optics introduced by Lee’s casting, but there’s a wonderful tenderness to the film as it explores the pursuit of an artistic life. Late Fame is now in theaters in NYC, followed by a national rollout.

The music world lost two disparate prominent figures last week. It would be remiss to not note frantically buying last-minute obstructed view tickets to see the Swell Season at the Ryman as a peak college experience, but your internet is probably a lot less French than mine and you’ve likely already seen an outpouring of tributes to Glen Hansard, such as this one from Rolling Stone, so I’m going to talk about Kavinsky here. What a rare gift it was to have created something as indelible as “Nightcall” and for it to go supernova, from the big screen to the closing ceremony of the Olympics! “Most-Shazamed song of all time” always struck me as a curious honor; the track made famous by Drive was, presumably, worth remembering, but not immediately recognizable. It’s obvious why “Nightcall” loomed large in the producer/DJ’s career, but his 2022 album Reborn felt majorly slept on. Continuing Kavinsky’s cinematic sensibilities and incarnation of a lovelorn zombie from the ‘80s, “Renegade” went triple platinum in my house, and “Goodbye” was another highlight.

I finished Mary H.K. Choi’s Pool House and found it to be a particularly compelling entry in this year’s explorations of Gen X vs. Gen Z attitudes; perhaps as a novel, it doesn’t invite distracting thoughts about how old the actors actually are–though two of the three main characters are actors–and there’s even a millennial in the mix for good measure. It’s also an unflinching look at the betrayals of the body, whether that be from illness, aging, or questionable sexual decisions.

Why does everything feel so joyless? Welcome to the age of decadence without pleasure (The Guardian)

Social Media’s Last Taboo (The Cut)

How to tolerate uncertainty in a world that’s full of it (Vox)

A Dying Art (Harper’s Magazine)

Thanks for maybe reading all that. Find me on Bluesky or whatever.

Until next time!