by Richard Southard You know, after doing these posts for a few weeks, featuring a different genre each time, I’ve started to think about something: why are there genres to begin with? With just about every post, there has been at least one or two albums that seem to cross from another genre, or can otherwise be grouped with others despite their separate label. But what is the real point of all these labels? I’ve heard discussions where genres are called “pointless” and serve to be more of a stereotype. While I do think stereotypes of music exist, I can’t see the genre itself to be the problem of it. It’s likely a statement made about how genres can act as labels, and therefore divisions, which goes against the idea that all music is still, well, music. But genres can, more than anything, be a doorway. Some discuss that, while genres are unavoidable, subgenres are the terms that become overused. However, without
By Z.Z. Boone
Except for the blood pressure, Parisi is a healthy seventy-five-year-old. He swims at the Y four mornings a week, his spine is straight, he maintains the 34-inch waist he carried through college. His mind is sharp; he reads historical novels and sees an occasional play, and he can still knock out the Sunday Times crossword without having to wait a week for the solution.
by Meagan Jones
As a writer, you read. You read a lot. Don’t try to get out of it (yes, you)! It’s impossible. You’ll read good things, bad things, crazy things, and generally, (if you study English or Creative Writing), a mish-mash of words spewed forth by some person long since gone from this world (looking at you, Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Virginia Woolf).
By Marc Swan
Three in the morning,
AC howling like a banshee dancing
on a wire. I shut it down
with a punch of the button.
by Richard Southard Remember last week when I said I would do a more “topical” and “conversational” post? Well, I was in the process of that, and my saved post seemed to have deleted itself after I had saved it. Thanks, wordpress. So, rather than try to repeat all my words in a rushed fashion, I’ve decided to make a different post entirely. Perhaps I can give more thought-provoking words at another time. This week, I’ll be sharing some albums that I find to be “easy-going”. You know, albums that you can play while studying, or while you relax by a fireplace in the evening, or when you take an afternoon walk out in the woods. If you’re looking to take some edge off the day, I think many of these albums will suffice. In thinking of these albums, it has come to my attention that “easy going” music can vary between person-to-person. What’s relaxing to me could certainly be
By M. Stone
Dear stained glass Jesus:
they tucked me between pews
so I could imagine my heart
as a cardboard box, flaps open
to entice you.
By Meagan Jones
Two people walk into a bar.
One says, “I’ll have a glass of H20, please.”
The second says, “I’ll have a glass of H20, too.”
The second person dies.
By Barbara Alsop
The soft paw strokes my face
purr rumbling like a deep earthquake.
by Richard Southard, The River editor Last week, as I was writing the post “Music from WUMF”, I began to think about the great local artists that we have received music from over the years. Rather than decide which ones I would include, I decided to hold off and make a devoted post about them (since I have more than enough to include). When I was once talking to a friend about local music in our station, he asked if all we received was country and folk. While we do receive a lot of those genres (especially folk), the actual variety we’ve received has been quite surprising. Maine’s music community is about as complex and diverse as just about any other. I had to restrain myself from simply making a post with just some great electronic producers. As always, I’ll be giving a variety. I’m only including artists who’s careers began in Maine. If their projects began elsewhere, but transitioned to Maine, I won’t be
by Matthew Campbell
“My kind of loyalty was loyalty to one’s country, not to its institutions or its officeholders. The country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over, and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing, and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease, and death.”
― Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court