The downside of an enchanting revelry comes at waking to realize it was all a dream. This was the feeling on learning Nedra Talley, the final nightingale of that inimitable trio, The Ronettes, had emitted her last sigh.
Black Punk Now
by Camille A. Collins
Punk at its heart is a search, a demand, for truth. Beyond the cliché emblems of studded chokers and spiked mohawks lies a creed that has served the angst of young working-class white men in Britian in the 70s; cool east coast girls of the same era, like Patti Smith and Joan Jett; and Black youth. Black tastemakers have been active in punk from the very start.
Man
by Camille A. Collins
I
Manfred took the path that crossed in front of the National Museum, flipping up his collar to cover his ears. It wasn’t that cold. He was a Chicagoan, he knew cold. It was just that in haste he’d forgotten his cap and now a draft crept up his back that made him shiver.
He spat a taut syllable of laughter, remembering Charlene the night before. Fifty-five years old and intoxicatingly beautiful; pathos and misery marking her face, evidence of her lust for sweets, liquor and fries resting on her hips―she was worn, berated by life, yet still comely.