When we make music, we get to decide how to break up time. Time becomes our clay.  Here’s how you mold it.   The way a musician divides time—how one delineates the musical space—is consistent with the way he or she sees the world. So first, decide how you see the world.   One of…

Elsewhere in this zine, you’ll find my reviews of Bob Dylan’s Tempest and the Pet Shop Boys’ Elysium. Neither of them are enthusiastic, both of them are generous in spirit, but neither of them has much to say. That’s because it isn’t necessary to say much about these records: each of them conform to their…

The piano nocturne filtered quietly through my computer speakers, its notes rising and ebbing shyly back again. My suitemate Angela hummed appreciatively, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyelids lightly. “My sister played this piece on the piano,” she told me, opening her eyes. “I miss my family. The last time I heard…

 A confession: the first vinyl LP I ever bought was Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible. I had bought the CD four weeks before for half the price at Best Buy. I brought my first record home and set it down on my bed, carefully removing the plastic wrapping so I could run my fingers over the…