there have been poetry books on jazz and classical music but none that I know thus far on indie music(s). which is kinda sad really considering writers like Joshua Clover wear their music tastes on their forearms like tattoos. James Meetze writes that he and his group of brutes attempted to get a happening going at Mills last year, but was hampered by no moolah. fuck it, do it anyway at a local club.

what about an anthology of texts based on indie music? you are what you hear, ain't you? me? shit, I be nothing but a miasma (undergrad word, huh?) of noise produced by Hendrix, Sonic Youth, Shane McGowan, X, Social Distortion, David Bowie, Massive Attack, Aphex Twin, Stockhausen, the Germs, and, um, I'll stop there. I love one fucking distorted guitar. ain't nothing like the Marshall stacks switched all the way up to 11, pure feedback. amen.