A Certain Sense of Weightlessness

A talk with The Jayhawks’ Mark Olson

Like that one ramshackle, half-collapsed barn you pass on the highway year after year, the music created by veteran Minneapolis band The Jayhawks is timeless — in a fragile, verdigised, sepia-toned, windblown, authentically American melancholia sort of way. Their sweetly bittersweet sound, all honeyed harmonies and landlocked blues and melodic rustic reverie, is like a soundtrack caught gorgeously between a hymn to our better selves and an elegy to how we’ve fallen short. Continue reading 

Welcome to the Slaughterhouse

Kurt Vonnegut biography reads like a nasty tweet

Behind every great writer hides an asshole. Dostoyevsky was a religious freak with a gambling problem. William Burroughs plinked a slug through his wife’s forehead. Faulkner guzzled a half-gallon of rye every day before noon. Shakespeare only willed his wife the spare bed. I’m far from a great writer, but I sure can be an asshole sometimes. It’s true. Maybe you should stop reading this. Continue reading