It’s embarrassing to admit that last Sunday was the first time I heard Charley Turner and his band perform. For some reason I was expecting laid-back intricate acoustic jazz. But they rocked out, naturally. Now I get it.
had plainly long ago ceased to worry about honor. Having lost all chance of a career in the future, he lived only for food and was fully aware of it. Once I tried to stroke him; this was something so new and unexpected that he suddenly squatted close to the ground, began to tremble all over, and whined loudly with emotion. Out of pity I stroked him many times. After that he could not see me without whining. He would see me from a distance and give a plaintive and pitiable whine.
Bill Morrison's new movie is a compilation of footage about the Durham Miners' Gala, from a far-away time and place. A weepy nostalgia orgy for unredeemed lefties or a timely reminder of our better selves?