If you’re looking for big bangs, singularities or other forms of Stephen Hawking’s wry wit you’re in the wrong place. We do want to talk about time, though. Cinematic time that is. We want to talk about the evolution of its treatment from the early pioneers to, what we think it’s a game changer, Richard Linklater’s masterpiece “Boyhood”.
Nobel prize J.M. Coetzee writes a self-lacerating fictionalised memoir in which he portrays himself as a worthless piece of shit.
It’s difficult for me to talk about this album. It’s too vast. It never ends. It hijacks you into a sonic roller coaster and it spits you out at the end of the trip, while you still wonder what the f*ck has just happened. With Merriweather Post Pavillion you’re never in control.
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