Word: imago
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...solo albums of exceptionally beautiful tunes and casually caustic commentary on the pitfalls of romantic relationships, Mann, 39, has remained a cult-size pleasure. Timing has been her enemy. Whatever, her fine 1993 solo debut, came out just as her label, Imago Records, hit the financial skids. Her next album, I'm with Stupid, languished in legal limbo until Geffen Records released it--two years late. And early this year it looked as if the curse might strike again: as Mann neared completion of a new work, Bachelor No. 2, Geffen merged with Interscope Records, whose executives ordered her back...
...title of her new solo album, I'm with Stupid (Geffen), is rife with meaning; she's probably fingering her old record label, Imago, whose financial instability delayed this record for two years. "You pay for the hands they're shaking/ As they struggle with the undertaking/ of simple thought," she cracks on the title song. Lyrically, her acid tongue remains; musically, I'm with Stupid rates as one of the catchiest pop albums of the year, brimming with poised three-minute mini-masterpieces. Mann has the same skill that great tunesmiths like McCartney and Neil Young have: the knack...
...present haunting images, including scenes of children still living in contaminated towns and shots of animals born horribly deformed, possibly because of radiation. The pictures, which are being published for the first time in the West in these pages, are part of an exhibition organized by the Italian firm Imago that will be touring in major U.S. cities, beginning with Baltimore...
...native South Africa, one white and one black, have been noteworthy in equal measure for their poignant evocation of that land, their perception of partnership and their acute sense of sexual obsession. The last is at the core of a novel that otherwise breaks new ground for him. Imago (Penzler; 244 pages; $16.95) is a mystery that offers no real mystery, no official detective, no police action of consequence and no crime -- yet is flavored with an authentic elixir of suspicion and dread. The central character is a radiologist caught up in what his psychiatrist colleagues would label...
...Fuller, industrialization has gone from comparative primitivity to corrupt sophistication, manipulated by public relations men, villains whom the author describes as "furtive, meddling buffoons," as if p.r. had somehow been the Iago and not the imago of the industrialist. Other Fuller ruminations seem more pertinent: his insistence, for instance, that work never disappears, and slavery is only abandoned through the substitution of machines, lends computers a certain moral purpose. His account of technological society's constantly increasing energy is, he admits, a striking reinterpretation of the miracle of the loaves and fishes. One of Fuller's practical prescriptions...