The mere fact that David Lynch's Dune was made at all, and in the Hollywood of the early 1980s to boot, is something of a miracle. Would that it was a better adaptation of the source material, or just a better movie, period.
A kooky example of science fiction from Hong Kong, a cinematic world that has relatively little SF to begin with.
Twenty years later, the Wachowskis' digital fable still stands tall, outliving the slickness of the moment and attempts to misappropriate it
The first of the posthumous releases from Alan Vega (of Suicide)'s vault, and it's a good 'un.
A look back at the most deliberately frustrating album ever made for popular consumption.
At the end of the day, it's just a fancy excuse to shoot a bunch of scenes in reverse.
You know how Woody Guthrie has THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS on his guitar? Peter Brötzmann's reeds should have signs that say THIS MACHINE KILLS, PERIOD.
Ben Kingsley as a frothing mad gangster is only the first of many pleasures in this sleeper-gem of a crime drama that's only gotten better with age
The film is worthy of the best kind of jealousy, the kind that makes you want to go out and do something just as visionary and overwhelming.
When I'm happy, this record reminds me of what I'm transcending; when I'm not, it reminds me of how to transcend.
One of the greatest of American films generally, and certainly the most incisive and insightful one about the criminal life.
A thunderous fusion of jazz and industrial rock, way out of print but absolutely worth seeking out.
"The album that killed Skinny Puppy", an only partly realized concept record about a cult movement, has much to recommend it after 25 years.
Barrows Dunham's 1947 work of popular philosophy deserves the widest possible audience in 2020.
Fifty years later, one of the greatest films ever made has scarcely aged a day in the ways that matter
A dopey dud: a mix of satire and horror that doesn't manage to be either funny or scary.
Alan Vega is dead, and that means there will never be another Suicide album. But it also means there will never be another Alan Vega album, and that matters at least as much to me.
NPR commentator, author, and sardonic voice of the disgusted put some of his best material to wax in this collection that is regrettably out of print.
Bonus beats for a world that lives technology rather than just using it.
Until we get a Tackhead box set, these two discs will have to do as a source for anthologizing most of the band's best sampler-drum-machine-and-funk moments.
The first of a series of records by Edition Omega Point that explores the undeservedly unheard Japanese avant-garde.
Somewhere between Herbie Hancock's electronic pop-jazz of the 1980s and the more omnivorous, open-ended experimentalism of artists like David Byrne or Brian Eno.
Those purveyors of sinister whimsy went headfirst into the abyss with this undulating black mirror of a record.
Tar-caked, blackened, lugubrious, and barbed, the long-lambasted 1996 Ministry album has held up far better than seemed possible.
Lost treasures from the dungeons of the On-U Sound label, unearthed at last.
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