Oh, look. Our old friends The Coathangers, Atlanta's post-punk, post-feminist, post-everything darlings - and former Friday Night Video champions - are continuing their triumphant conquest of the rest of the country. Having already won over the New York critics earlier this month, they are now the subject of a Daytrotter session recently recorded over at Austin's Big Orange Studios.
Icelandic singer Bjork once noted, "Musicians don't brainstorm. They eat good food, tell bad jokes, get drunk, and on day four they have a song." As their careers progress, The Coathangers seems like they're taking Bjork's maxim to heart and are simply trying to have as much fun as possible. Wise choice. Desire for fame and recognition is just another form of craving, which only leads to suffering.
Today, to the surprise of very few, the troubled, drug-addicted singer Amy Winehouse died. In 2006, with the release of the popular Back To Black, Winehouse reached a pinnacle of fame at the very young age of 22, a level of celebrity achieved by only a very few (proof: you probably know who I'm talking about). But celebrity soon turned to notoriety and fame didn't seem to provide her any happiness, and by age 27 she died. My sincerest hope is that while she was alive, she was able to find at least some brief intervals of happiness amid all of the suffering of her too-brief life.
As for yesterday's tragedy in Norway, words can't even express the sorrow that I feel. Words fail, so I'm forced to just leave it at that. But I can't talk about the death of Amy Winehouse while ignoring that far greater tragedy.
Icelandic singer Bjork once noted, "Musicians don't brainstorm. They eat good food, tell bad jokes, get drunk, and on day four they have a song." As their careers progress, The Coathangers seems like they're taking Bjork's maxim to heart and are simply trying to have as much fun as possible. Wise choice. Desire for fame and recognition is just another form of craving, which only leads to suffering.
Today, to the surprise of very few, the troubled, drug-addicted singer Amy Winehouse died. In 2006, with the release of the popular Back To Black, Winehouse reached a pinnacle of fame at the very young age of 22, a level of celebrity achieved by only a very few (proof: you probably know who I'm talking about). But celebrity soon turned to notoriety and fame didn't seem to provide her any happiness, and by age 27 she died. My sincerest hope is that while she was alive, she was able to find at least some brief intervals of happiness amid all of the suffering of her too-brief life.
As for yesterday's tragedy in Norway, words can't even express the sorrow that I feel. Words fail, so I'm forced to just leave it at that. But I can't talk about the death of Amy Winehouse while ignoring that far greater tragedy.
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