They wanna sing all night long

Dear friends,

1. I need to sell two Björk tickets for next Wednesday's Radio City Music Hall show. If any of you aren't totally broke in a "How am I ever gonna pay for a dentist?" sorta way, holla at me.


This was my favorite outfit from the last show I saw her play. Those red feathers seemed to move away from her as she swayed, moving her arms slowly, like a hula dancer.

2. I have this book; it's wrapped in brown paper. I can't open it because it is part of a limited series and unleashing it would mean decreasing its value. So it just sits there, all bundled up, with the number 25 written on it in black marker. I chose that number, it's been good to me. A friend curated it; it's an art piece of sorts, full of people's drawings, poems, and remembrances in celebration of their friend Allen Ginsburg. Lots of famous names, some new to me, talking about someone they loved. When I look at it now, sitting on the shelf, all I want to do is tear it open. Crease its edges, thumb-stain it with lead, put a coffee ring on it, the WORKS, as long as I get to see what's inside. I think that I'm going to go for it. I think this is the year.

Joe Strummer was one of the participants in said book. Here's a hushed little cover of a Clash number performed by Josh Rouse. It doesn't have the shimmering mamasan guitar-speak but it makes up for it by sounding tender and forgiving.

Song to seek:

Straight To Hell/Josh Rouse (mp3)

Love, D