Afro-Punk Weekend

Saw the first half of the Afro-Punk lineup at CBGBs Saturday night:

the wonderful Slack Republic, the still-trying Cutlery, and the kick-ass GAME Rebellion. I needed to see some moshing and crowd-surfing in CBGBs one more time before they close to know the kids are going to be alright. This kid couldn't stay out late enough to catch the main event Tamar Kali, sadly. Had to get up early Sunday to make it out to Rhode Island, where I sit now, borrowing a neighbor's wi-fi and soaking in sun and sea-breezes.

Better late than never, I just finished Richard Goldstein's gentle take-down of the Bob Dylan cult. It's the best thing he has written in ages, I think, perhaps ironic considering his point (quite convincing one to a post-boomer who never drank the kool-aid) is that Dylan has been ludicrously mythologized by our parents in ways that smack of nostalgia for patriarchy. "I come not to worship him but to complicate him," Goldstein insists, and yet, I can't help but notice that he, like the hagiographers he criticizes, finds inspiration in Dylan to reach literary (o.k. journalistic) heights that ordinarily elude him.