In our afternoon reading: an excerpt from Lauren Wilkinson’s novel, an interview with Mariana Dimópulos, and more.
Inside Alex Chilton: A Review of Holly George-Warren’s “A Man Called Destruction”
A Man Called Destruction: The Life and Music of Alex Chilton from Box Tops to Big Star to Backdoor Man by Holly George-Warren Viking; 384 p. Though they’re often referred to as the definitive cult band, Big Star left the ranks of the obscure some time ago. The band’s story has been well told: A former ‘60s teen idol, Alex Chilton, hooked up with an old acquaintance from back home in Memphis, Chris Bell, to give the music business another […]
Morning Bites: Meg Wolitzer’s YA Novel, Blake Butler on Crime Fiction, Alex Chilton, Roxane Gay on Reality TV, and More
This morning: Meg Wolitzer on her upcoming YA novel, Roxane Gay on reality television, notes on Alex Chilton’s biography, Blake Butler talks crime fiction, and more.
Afternoon Bites: James Turrell, Alex Chilton Archives, Books About Sports, Doc Pomus Documentary, and More
Discussing the work of James Turrell at Bad at Sports; an Alex Chilton live album is released; looking into when “arthouse” became a pejorative term; Doc Pomus gets a documentary; and more.
Afternoon Bites: Jean-Pierre Melville in Manhattan, William Gerhardie, Damon Locks on Chicago, Robert Boswell Interviewed, and More
Drinking with postpunk bands, looking at the novels of William Gerhardie, Damon Locks talks Chicago, a vintage Alex Chilton interview, and more.
Westerberg on Chilton
It was some years back, the last time I saw Alex Chilton. We miraculously bumped into each other one autumn evening in New York, he in a Memphis Minnie T-shirt, with take-out Thai, en route to his hotel. He invited me along to watch the World Series on TV, and I immediately discarded whatever flimsy obligation I may have had. We watched baseball, talked and laughed, especially about his current residence — he was living in, get this, a tent […]
“It gets so hard in times like now to hold on” – Alex Chilton
Alex Chilton died yesterday. For 59 years he gave the world some of the most perfect pop songs ever known. It’s one of the great crimes of humanity that not enough people listened. I’m not very good at writing goodbyes to people I only knew through their art, but Ben Greenman is, and he wrote something at Moistworks.