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 Everett True

Another news story predicting the demise of the NME

I admire Krissi’s self-belief and her lack of perspective: it’s what always kept me strong during my U.K. music press years.

 Everett True

Banksy vs advertising vs Everett True vs Facebook

It’s the social networking 2012 equivalent of “You don’t have to be crazy to work here … but it helps”.

 Scott Creney

Tunabunny in the UK, part one

Here’s the thing about all the exhaustion and struggle, the sacrifice that goes into saving up money to fly over to another country. The show has to be worth it. A bad show will leave you crushed and broken nearly to the point of despair. This can be a bit nerve-wracking, but it makes you put everything you have into what you’re doing.

 Scott Creney

Coasting – You’re Never Going Back (M’Lady)

If The White Stripes had been obsessed with Flying Nun instead of the blues and Led Zeppelin, it would have sounded like this. For someone like me, it’s absolute heaven.

 Everett True

PhD research: Neil Kulkarni on the role of the music critic | ESSENTIAL READING

The ability not just to make words stick to a page/screen but give them a sense of life, make them walk and talk with your own spirit – s’tricky and the best music critics have always done it.

 Everett True

Song of the day – 443: Scraps

I can only imagine what this plaintive, personal, playful music would feel like in the company of some drunk people and little ventilation.

 Everett True

PhD research issue #3. You write to make an impact: A tribute to Steven Wells (re-post)

Engage, argue, inform, irritate … but above all entertain.

 Everett True

Song of the day – 442: Clag (something wonderful from the 90s)

With its impromptu gargling and glugging, ‘Goldfish’ is a classic of its kind.

 Everett True

reasons to love web 2.0, part 3

Amour & Discipline is a non-profit DIY organization. We don’t get subsidies, nor are we financed by any corporation.

 Scott Creney

Fucked Up – Year Of The Tiger (Matador)

If I wanted some beefy, macho shithead to yell at me, I’d join the Marines. Or call my fucking dad.

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