Word: soule
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...impassioned, raspy voice, just as it’s tough to underestimate his intuition for placing a fermata above a lyric just where it’s needed. If Otis Redding rapped, he might be Freeway. The album’s melodies are sparse, beautiful, often sampled from old soul hits, marked by heraldic horns and enough jazz flute to make Herbie Mann proud. “Free at Last” isn’t without its faults though. “Take It To The Top,” featuring 50 Cent, is a garish, tired...
...Amadei, who by nature is less an organizer than an inspirer, EWB is just the beginning. When he's not getting his fingernails dirty in Africa or Asia, he is busy marshaling enthusiasm for what he calls "engineering with soul," which is also the title of a manifesto he's working on. (His schedule doesn't leave much time for the usual university research, but as Amadei notes with a laugh, "I can't be fired. I have tenure.") That means applying the hard practices of engineering to the soft problems of humanity, building simple water pumps before fancy suspension...
...associates with a jungle retreat. Recycled teak doors and stained-glass windows reflect local style but not excessively - and that is signature Prawoto. "A home should reflect one's culture but also empower the inhabitant," he says. "In the end I just try to create a home for the soul...
...Much of this gratuitous misery can be read as the blackest of comedy, but there are plenty of other dimensions to Yu's writing besides gallows humor. Narrated in the first person by Sun Guanglin, a sensitive and lonesome soul who's trying to make sense of his bizarre childhood, Cries in the Drizzle stitches together a patchwork of genres - from pastoral vignettes to sweaty cinematic action sequences (a teen threatens to kill his hostage girlfriend with a meat cleaver); disconsolate philosophical observations ("Our lives, after all, are not rooted in the soil as much as they are rooted...
...admired our surroundings, the proprietress, or okami-san, came in to keep us company during the meal. For all her aristocratic bearing, Mrs. Hiroko Yuki turned out to be the soul of Kitcho's omotenashi hospitality. Her warmth instantly turned the cavernous banquet hall into an intimate and lively dinner party. We forgot to be self-conscious about having a stranger watch us eat, and soon we were chatting about everything from climbing Mount Fuji to collecting ceramics. We were eating from heirloom Baccarat crystal dishes in traditional Japanese shapes...