Low, snarling notes

[Neil Young] comes out blazing, extending Ragged Glory's Country Home and Love To Burn with long mission-statement solos on Old Black, his trusty Les Paul guitar - low, snarling notes wrenched into rippled spears of soprano sustain; jubilant slaloms coated in fuzz-box ash - tied to the groove by Crazy Horse's firm, human clockwork.

David Fricke (in his recent Mojo review of Neil Young/Crazy Horse's Way Down In The Rust Bucket)

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He's the only Frank Zappa I knew (Captain Beefheart)

R.I.P. Peter Joyce

What connection can there have been between many people in the innumerable histories of this world, who, from opposite sides of great gulfs, have, nevertheless, been very curiously brought together! Charles Dickens (in Bleak House )

That's about right: a little, no more (Michel Houellebecq)

Photo by Rupert Britton on Unsplash When all's said and done, the idea of the uniqueness of the individual is nothing more than pompous absurdity. We remember our lives, Schopenhauer wrote somewhere, a little better than a novel we once read. Michel Houellebecq (in Platform )

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