The five-hour rave has wound down, the drugs have well worn off and the realization of your surroundings finally settled in. You’re in a moldy warehouse cellar with paint chips hanging off the walls. The best house DJ you’ve ever heard is finally revealed for what he really is, a soulless drum machine. The jig is most certainly up, your denial notwithstanding. You feel duped, raped, connived into a dark alley and mugged, but you’re not sure why. It eventually hits you that the music’s impressiveness was based largely on the quality of the ecstasy you popped around 1 am. The headliner, incapable of even a modicum of originality, played off your high, with smoke and mirror mixing gimmicks. andRead more.

Opinions are like assholes, everyone’s got one. The question is, what will you do to propagate and express yours? Sure, write a letter, a book, a song: Is what you have to say, sing or preach important enough for you to toss into the collective debate bonfire? The entertainment industry is rotted clean through with half-baked, ill-conceived, bubble gum poppycock which forces little, if any, self-provoked thought leaving the “underground” art and music movement to lead the charge towards innovative means of expressionism. It would seem that a counter-culture U-turn is afoot disguising alternative art as the new “flavor-of-the-month” Misses generally outnumber hits when artists misstep, creating art for art’s sake, neglecting to leave any discernable message behind. Art thatRead more.