Everything from his beginnings — Goblin and Wolf — to CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST had a moment in the sun that night. Every iteration of being a Tyler, The Creator fan was on full display.
The first Betty Davis song I ever heard was “Nasty Gal,” and I was floored. Here was a woman who sang with an authority and individuality deeper than I had ever heard before, who knew all of the influential players within punk and rock music — and who performed with platform boots and an Afro.
With warmer weather approaching, you might be wondering whether you should get your phone out to play some Pokémon Go on campus. It’s about time you should.
Today, we are announcing that The Press will stop printing our magazines for the foreseeable future. This doesn’t mean that our work is over. In fact, we will be moving to the forefront of new media.
P Daddy celebrates its own absurdity, writing party anthems about feeling inadequate. The music often rejects rumination and accepts a strain of Camus-based-philosophy, asserting that one can find joy by embracing the absurdity of life. It seems that the music is telling you to embrace sorrow, but find joy despite it.
On March 10, I experienced the four-hour, sold-out, sixth annual Love Rocks NYC! show in the grandeur of New York City’s Beacon Theatre. Yet my perspective was far different from the rest of the audience. I studied the musicians, yes, but from their backs. As I hunched from my post as drum tech, securely hidden behind the kit and the congas, my eyes darted from the musicians I was working for to the faces of nearly 3,000 radiant music fans.