Hopefully that wasn't misread as a slight at "Untitled" in any way. It's one of the most gloriously life-affirming blasts of music ever recorded.

I love "cars careening from the clouds". He uses word combinations that wouldn't make sense in any other context.

Ah, but there's "Untitled" in between, aka the song that birthed Arcade Fire.

Mangum's talent is unique and totally singular. All of his songs seem to be tuned in from some higher level of consciousness that operates beyond the standard method of creation. The images conjured up in the lyrics comprise some of the best surrealism this side of Lewis Carroll, and his song constructions are a…

It's an impossible act to follow. The pressure must be insane.

The crowd at the Sheldon in St. Louis was abysmal. They ran onstage and stole his setlist and throat spray during the break before the encore.

Thanks for the insight.

I hope they never, ever record a follow-up. It's one of the few remaining untouched masterpieces; anything more would spoil its very preciousness.

They're first against the wall.

Is this yours? You're a fantastic writer. Bravo.

That whole tune. Damn.

"The Numbers" is the best thing they've done in fifteen years. Astonishing tune.

Yeah, it's really more of an afterthought. The crowning horror occurs when Dr. Hill summons Guy and Sapirstein to come collect her, securing her suspicion that there's no one she can trust.

How did Thin Lizzy beat anything?

Alas, the real terror of Rosemary's Baby is the loss of autonomy. As with much of the best horror fiction, all the trappings of demonry and witchcraft are merely window dressing for the real horror brimming beneath the surface, that of a young woman caught within the throes of patriarchal dominance and control. Seeing…

*cues up yet another viewing of The Celluloid Closet*

How was your experience on the loop?

The closest equivalent I'm aware of is St. Louis's City Museum, which was founded by local lunatic sculptor and entrepreneur Bob Cassilly. It's basically a litigator's wet dream, a sprawling class action wonderland packed with repurposed industrial materials, a three-story air shaft slide, and a rooftop jungle gym…

If only Crosley put as much effort into not being the most laughably piece of shit turntables ever as they did into constructing novelty frames to distract from their being the most laughably piece of shit turntables ever.

Great Job, Internet! St. Louis cineastes wax nostalgic about the poster for The Little Vampire that remained in the frame outside the defunct Shady Oak Theater for eight years, providing the one shining constant throughout the Bush administration.