The Friday Informer: The Composer’s Life, a.k.a. Is that George Clooney in Your Backyard?
Well, it’s not exactly Gossip Girl around here this week. Oh, wait. Yes it is. And it doesn’t end there when a composer lets the Cohen Bros. use his Brooklyn brownstone in a movie shoot. Did I mention the skinny jeans, trembling hotel maids, and the French bulldog? Jeremy Denk is having a positively Courtney Love-style tour run.
Speaking of fame and soldiers of fortune, Mr. Ross has slayed the opera queens and reduced Gawker to a state of non-sarcasm. His power; it’s scary. So is Mahler’s, tagging in Toronto from beyond the grave like he is. And who live-blogs a record review? Oh, right, Rolling Stone is down with the kids like that.
Other fortune hunters have been making headlines by suing housewives for their questionable record collections. I see where they’re coming from, but I’d also like to see a creative industry come up with a more—I don’t know—creative solution to their problem.
Even if you never get any more high-tech than a radio, think carefully before you crank it up and rip off the knob. (Actually, there’s a dude who drives down my street at 4 a.m. I’d like to hit with this.) I hear some people get cranky listening to Messiaen, whatever the volume. I suspect that no matter where you stand in London, you’ll be able to hear this, so who has to buy a ticket? Still, I don’t think that sort of thing will close the gap enough to help Jonny out. Springsteen, however, is offering a fan of the American orchestra an up-close-and-personal visit.