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The ’59 Sound, the ’75 Sound, and the Church of Rock ‘n Roll
Contrary to the hyperbole you hear from some music critics, rock 'n roll did not save my life. I grew up in the insulated worlds of Worthington, Ohio and Park Forest, Illinois, where I was more likely to die of fertilizer poisoning than gang warfare....
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Small Town Blues
Nobody stops in Bucyrus, Ohio unless they have to. Columbus, the big-city capital, is an hour and a half to the south. Cedar Point Amusement Park, the preferred destination for roller coaster enthusiasts, is an hour and a half to the north. The Lincoln Highway, US 30, which bisects the....
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Hello In There
My church is full of young adults and young children. At a grizzled 54, I qualify as the Resident Ancient Dude (RAD), an inscrutable non-pierced, non-tattooed, non-shaved-headed fixture in a sea of Jesus-loving hipsters. And then there are the men. The hipsters do what many people their age do. They start....
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Anglophilia, Part 2
Two weeks ago I confessed my love of the traditional folk music of the British Isles, particularly as filtered through a rock ‘n roll sensibility. This installment continues the love story, and picks up at 1980, where I left off last time....
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Anglophilia, Part I
Chalk it up to Anglophilia if you must. Although I was born in England, I’ve spent less than six months of my life there. In any case, I have a longstanding affinity, dating back to my high school years, for the traditional folk music of the British Isles, particularly after it has been filtered through....
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Current Issue
Issue 72
Memoir by Lauren Winner, Poetry by James Harpur, Art by Guy Chase and Adrian Wiszniewski
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