RUTH AYLETT recommends two anthologies: one that bears witness to refugee and immigrant experiences, and the other to our political relationship to water
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An error occurred while searching, try again later.An absolute ramshackle treat
JAMES WALSH happily capitulates to a master of DIY depression and despair
SETH SANDRONSKY appreciates a fresh take on a 100-year-old novel that helps to contextualise the current moment of conspicuous wealth, waste and climate chaos
A no-nonsense ex-Garda female cop, Scandi-noir’s newest flawed hero, the lure of Aussie gold, and unexpected decency in Silicon valley
JAN WOOLF doubts that soft-core musical is the best way to transmit an important story of heroism and resistance
Reviews of Ella Fitzgerald, My Morning Jacket, and Toria Wooff
GORDON PARSONS admires a version of Marlowe’s grim tragedy that strips it down to its gay essentials
When Cassy’s father fails to connect with his daughter — and misses out on
an evening in the Bitter End — a stranger’s self-mocking charm brings seething resentment.
Jeffrey Lewis & The Voltage + David Cronenberg’s Wife
The Crescent, York
IN a workingmen’s club turned community venue in Old York, indie kids young and old are out in force to see Jeffrey Lewis: New York’s finest, and possibly only, comic-book artist, perma-touring troubadour, DIY garage-rock musician, and anti-folk songwriter.
What is anti-folk? Tom, singer in support band David Cronenberg’s Wife, is on-hand to explain: ”It’s acoustic punk, of course, and it’s about things that are true to life. Like this next song, which is about when I met a mermaid.”
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The phrase “cruel to be kind” comes from Hamlet, but Shakespeare’s Prince didn’t go in for kidnap, explosive punches, and cigarette deprivation. Tam is different.
ANGUS REID deconstructs a popular contemporary novel aimed at a ‘queer’ young adult readership
A landmark work of gay ethnography, an avant-garde fusion of folk and modernity, and a chance comment in a great interview
ANGUS REID applauds the inventive stagecraft with which the Lyceum serve up Stevenson’s classic, but misses the deeper themes