Every line I enter into my computer about the Hub is also part of a love story, because like a parent in the 1950s (or today, I guess) attempting to rationalize smacking their kids, I truly love the objects of my animosity. Oftentimes, it hurts me more than it hurts Boston to level such relentless criticism.
RAGE AGAINST THE MAGAZINE: COUNTERCULTURE IS ALIVE AND WELL
A friendly reminder that Boston is a city that runs on cyclical demolition and rebirth. Counterculture never left.
A BAND NAMED (T-T)b: OUT OF THE CARTRIDGE AND INTO THE BASEMENTS
It’s time to revisit your old NES. Boston’s own chiptune band is on the rise.
VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL: ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART
It goes without saying that this a seriously subjective roundup, compiled by our brain trust and the interjectors who barged into our discussions at the coffee shops and bars where our list blossomed.
DIG THIS: OREGON FAIL, PROHIBITION BALL, AND THE ONE-MINUTE PLAY FESTIVAL
Go forth and explore this week. Stuff is still happening you know.
DIG THIS: TIGERMAN WOAH!, MOPED KNIGHTS, AND QUEERLESQUE
Because sitting around watching the snow melt is for suckas.
