“This cover tells you everything you need to know about the ’70s ideal of languid self-indulgence: It gloriously conjures up cocaine spoons and key parties, empty promises made in hot tubs, interchangeable and indifferent bodies letting it all hang out in discos, sex in sports cars and hotel rooms while the 8-track of something like this album repeats and repeats.” - Rob Horning’s “We Were Promised Hot Tubs” at The New Inquiry discusses the cover of Bob Welch’s (who passed away last week) 1977 solo album, French Kiss. The piece also contains what might be the best opening line of any piece we have read this week, but we will wait till Saturday to say for sure.
- Writing and Building “Concrete Fever”: An Interview With Nathaniel Kressen
- Revisiting Numbers and Documenting Atlantic City: A Between Books Interview with Joshua Cohen
- Talking Travel Chapbooks and a Sense of Place With Courtney Maum, Aaron Gilbreath, and Bart Schaneman
- Answering Questions With Quotes: An Interview With Benjamin Lytal
- #tobyreads: A Trio of Granta’s Best Young British Novelists — Books by Helen Oyeyemi, Sarah Hall, & Ned Beauman
- Poetry in Motion: Canadian Hockey Icon, or Experimental French Writer?
- #tobyreads: Misreading “Flan” and Reading Collections
- The Zinophile: Enthusiasts’ Parade, From Doctor Who to David Bazan
Sign up for our mailing list