When a writing class reveals certain truths — The four of us — my wife, me, my best friend and his husband — share Japanese deviled eggs, smoky bourbons, curry, and ramen. I don’t remember the street or the name of this place, though it’s on Manhattan’s upper east side. …

Remembering certain pledges — Politics and music have always co-existed, and sometimes the bed they sleep in has sagged or even broken. …

The bar, not the lunatic fringe group — Last night as I was still processing yet another mass shooting at a public venue, my wife and I spoke about fear. “It’s all this fear of things we don’t understand,” she said. And while I agreed with her essentially, I nevertheless wondered why it’s so fucking complicated to understand…

A mixed love story — When I’m a little boy home with the flu, my mother treats me with Campbell’s chicken noodle soup; sometimes it’s chicken with rice. In Birmingham, 1963, when I’m seven years old, a bomb goes off in a downtown Baptist church, killing four. …

R.I.P. Peter Cooper — I had three surprises waiting for me during the Annual Grammy Awards ceremony last night. There were some pleasures like Brandi Carlile winning major awards and being introduced by her wife and kids. And seeing Stevie Wonder play “Higher Ground” with Chris Stapleton and that full band. Man. But the…

Country asserts more privilege — One of the great things about reviewing any year’s Hot 100 Hits is that you’ll remember far more than you’ve ever forgotten, and vice-versa. I would rather not disparage anyone’s favorite songs, and yet when I think about THE #1 SONG OF 1975 again I have to remind myself that…

For music and finding lost LPs — America is endlessly strange, fascinating, and often disheartening. The Strange: The Orange Plague says he won’t necessarily endorse another Republican for President if he isn’t the choice. I don’t know why that’s strange, but I wanted to write The Orange Plague again. The Fascinating: There are more cultural studies on…

“At your price…” — A couple of nights ago, as we ate our leftover beef stew, my wife and I decided we needed yet another break from the news. Because if it’s not yet another police beating death of an unarmed citizen, it’s Ron DeSantis telling us he knows what’s best for higher education. …

It goes without saying, yet I said it — It happened in New Orleans on a late spring evening. I was visiting an old friend, and we were readying ourselves to attend a party of his friends, people I didn’t know. We had been preparing a mixtape, our gift to the event. This was the late 80s and so…