Actor Steven Weber stood outside the 92nd Street Y on Monday, May 18, as a procession of luxury cars pulled up, unloading finely dressed guests for the Y’s annual benefit gala.
“It is going to be an incredible evening,” said Mr. Weber, the event’s emcee, rattling off the names of the many luminaries scheduled to Read More
Sonata for Jukebox: Pop Music, Memory, and the Imagined Life, by Geoffrey O’Brien. Counterpoint, 328 pages, $27.50.
All pop criticism is bad. Like a boring dinner guest, it’s garrulous and name-dropping. Under the pretense of informing you, it glories in your ignorance. It reeks of junk-strewn garrets and a degrees in semiotics from Brown. Read More
I can’t remember the last time I fled a show at the intermission. I must have done it only once or twice in my life. I always feel I should stay, partly out of professional duty and partly because something might happen in the second act to lift the spirits and save the day. You Read More
I came late to Elvis Costello. In college, when the dorm emptied out on the night of the Attractions concert, I stayed in my room, listening to Eric Dolphy. My friends all had Elvis Costello records, and though there were songs on them I loved, I didn’t love the voice singing them. Once you’ve acquired Read More
