By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
By Brian Rinker
By Rachel Swan
Reviewer Jeff Stark sounds like a cranky old man who just can't, won't, be happy. Regarding the crowd at Johnny Cash's Fillmore show ("Cash Rehash," Music, Nov. 20): I admit, we cheered, we drank, we got deathly quiet when he sat alone in the spotlight and sang "Bird on a Wire."
Oh, I know, he's not young anymore, he's being marketed, he does his old songs, he hasn't been a drug addict recently. All good reasons to ignore his talent and go dingleberry hunting. But as his voice chilled and humbled me, I couldn't stay cool. My mouth hung open in naked admiration.
While the dumb-fuck sold-out audience thrilled to the songs and respected the man, Stark bored himself silly playing music business politics. I've never enjoyed another show more. Thank you, Johnny. You gave.
David Kronke's review of Paradise Lost (Movie Capsules, Nov. 13) was a bit creepy. First, he reassures his readers that they get to see the mutilated corpses of the victims. Tongue-in-cheek or not, the statement was crude as hell.
Then he says the three suspects all have low IQs. The fact of the matter is that one of them, Jesse Misskelley, has a considerably low IQ, which is why investigators had such an easy time orchestrating his so-called confession. Jason Baldwin just looks like a scared kid. Damien Echols seems to have a very high IQ. Call him special ed, gifted, depressed, eccentric, weird, nuts, but I'd bet my master's degree in special education that Echols registers way above average in IQ.
Finally, Kronke states, "Echols' attitude doesn't quite convey innocence." The evidence against him was virtually nonexistent. Maybe Echols figured that spoke for itself. I found his testimony sincere, matter-of-fact, and very believable. I found the prosecution's case the exact opposite.
But even Kronke admits that Echols doesn't belong in prison, let alone on death row. We'll take it, Dave, but hang back, OK? We're trying to save an innocent man from death by lethal injection. It's kind of serious.
Editor's note: The writer is a participant in a support group for the boys, the Western Memphis Three Support Fund (PO Box 45888, Baton Rouge, LA 70895).
I'm one of the musicians in the United Satanic Apache Front, whose Halloween show Silke Tudor reviewed in her column ("Night Crawler," Nov. 6). Too bad she neglected to mention that there are also three musicians in USAF who put a lot of work into providing audio for the show.
Her review has finalized my realization that Steven Johnson Leyba should be doing his act to a normal bias tape of Nine Inch Nails played on a cheap boombox. Whatever, just so it's something MTV has informed consumers they need to like.
We bring $10,000 worth of synthesizers out, and some fuckstick who sent Steve e-mail gets more press than the band. Of course, the review appeared in a San Francisco "entertainment" rag, and we're probably beneath mention since we're inherently invalid and loathsome white, heterosexual males. Maybe if we started buttfucking each other, we'd have something artistically valid to say. Enjoy Hootie & the Blowfish -- you've earned them.