Word: rocked
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...long before the night is filled with more Kodak moments to commemorate her collegiate career. I watch as the iTunes visualizer explodes with arcs of color corresponding to M.I.A.’s “No one on the corner has swag like us.” Rocking jet-black tights, hoop earrings with the circumference of a small apple, and a tight top streaked with bands of pink and orange, Adelman is the epitome of “swag.” The destination for this do-up? Eleganza 2008. “I obviously need to step...
Suddenly, bleary-eyed students emerge from dorms armed with fistfuls of posters. By 7:02, students in various stages of undress begin to segregate by event. The air is tense, the voices low. The Eleganzians clear their throats and glance at the Rock for a Reason-ians. The Secular Society stands aloof, dour with morning tiredness and atheism...
...languages, they’ve stopped in recent years. “[Over time] they changed it because fewer students have a command of the language and the time to do it,” Taxin says. But translating from an ancient language wasn’t the only rock the HCC had to roll up the mountain. “We had some trouble with the male parts because there were a lot of all-male shows going up,” said Taxin, referring to the fact that all four main roles in “Adelphoe?...
...band shell overlooking Daytona Beach. Performing to a Hollywood-themed medley—including Madonna’s “Hollywood,” Missy Elliott’s “Shake Your Pom Pom,” and Prima J’s “Rock Star”—at the National Dance Alliance Collegiate Championship held April 10-11, the CDT dancers made their jumps and turns look effortless. But make no mistake: there’s a lot of technical training and maybe even an aspiring ballerina or two behind this...
...masterpiece, a churning, transforming behemoth consisting of Gibbons’ vocals over a droning bass note and pieces of organ-driven jazz-guitar freak-outs filled with happy injections of feedback and tonal non-sequiturs. At almost seven minutes, it rewards the time it requires. The smoldering, near-space-rock “Threads” lets the album fall away, packed with chunky percussion and rousing, indignant, Björk-like howls from Gibbons. She seems to reach out for any last shred of reality. What she gets is a minute-long, foghorn-like blare that all but pushes...