On Saturday morning I made some tweets, inspired by yet another tweet I saw. “Remember when all pop was throwaway and ‘indie’ was better than anything else?” I pondered. “Now, there’s such a thing as ‘indie pop’, and even the ‘bad’ pop is now getting cool kid cred. So, you know, it’s all fluid. But we want to be icy cool. Icy cool to the point of frozen.”
I have not had much interest in Christina Grimmie. She joined The Voice at the time when I stopped watching singing competitions altogether: she finished third in its 2014 season, by which time I was very much done with writing about television for a living.
This year’s earthings! Fantasy Festival was supposed to run for five days, but at the very last minute we had to shorten it to four. One of our contributors had to back off due to health concerns.
All this morning I’ve been thinking of how to approach this essay on Prince, but without repeating myself.
Remember when American Idol was such a big thing here?
