When you know your band is the greatest that’s ever rocked, how do you convince the rest of the world? Are nine songs enough to change nine billion minds?
There’s no one like your immediate family to make your shortcomings into dinner conversation. Our favorite dreamer continues the saga by heading home to Albany, to confront a table of successful siblings.
A used-book store stocks its customers’ tastes and perversions, and then sells them to their neighbors. A Brooklyn shop find life after New York’s Book Row heyday by providing a service computers can’t beat.
Trusting your instincts is tough; trusting others’ instincts can be a lot harder. Chastened with a broken ankle, Benchley puts his faith in his roommate’s healing hands, and his band’s ideas for their future.
In the city of ambition, dreams are rarely packaged with paychecks, and everyone must do something to pay the bills—even if it doesn’t involve rock.
On the heels of sudden success—a good show, a potential manager—arrives doubt, fear, and the means for everything to fall apart.
How can a rock band plan for the unknown? What good are hours of practice and training when it only takes one bad microphone to ruin a show?
Ruts can happen to anyone, even 23-year-olds, and the best response is a brand-new gym membership—and a new girlfriend?
After a year of living in New York, you’ve acquired an apartment, a job, a rewarding hobby, and a meaningful, sexless relationship—all the tokens of an early middle age?
If a band plays a concert, and no one pays attention, can it still aspire to musical greatness? Is anything louder than the sound of no hands clapping?
Who has better lyrics, the GOP or New York’s rockers? And can a romantic relationship survive “hug therapy?”
What name is good enough for a band meant to rock the world, and must it reference Elvis Costello somehow?