On the trail of the phantom women who changed American music and vanished without a trace.
John Jeremiah Sullivan
Memories of living with the writer Andrew Lytle late in his life.
A visit to the Christian rock Cross-Over Festival in Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri.
The liberation of the Williams sisters.
Listening to the Big Star songwriter, who left the group before dying in a solo car crash at 27.
His voice, on the recordings, is too sensitive. That's meant not as an aesthetic judgment. It wasn't too sensitive for the material, in other words. It was too sensitive for life. You listen to him sing, closely, and if you don't know another thing about what happened to him, you know that the guy with that voice is not going to last.
When your house is the set of One Tree Hill:
On one shoot, I remember, I'd been confused about where they needed to set up (confession: hungover), and as a result neglected to clean the bedroom. Later, a crew guy—the same one who'd told me about Blue Velvet—said, "I'm not used to picking up other people's underwear." I felt like saying, Then don't go into their bedrooms at nine o'clock in the morning! Except… he was paying to be in my bedroom.
A journey to Disney World with kids and weed.
On David Foster Wallace’s unfinished novel, The Pale King, and his legacy.
A trip to Kingston, Jamaica to track down Bunny Wailer, a reggae legend now living “in his own private Zion.”