Word: tunes
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...members of a hard-driving band from New Jersey are just unzipping their gig bags. "We rock at 7:30 sharp," says David Wish, the band's leader, founder and token grownup. Wish's group has a lot on its schedule: a run-through of a Carlos Santana tune, some funk and blues improvisation and a tutorial in stage presence. "Make a face like you're mad, like you mean it," Wish hollers over the din of nine acoustic guitars while windmilling his arm Pete Townshend--style. Their lips snarling, their E chords ringing, his bandmates are already killing...
...learn to play by ear, not by reading music--a kind of Suzuki method meets the Rolling Stones. They almost immediately start improvising and writing surprisingly good songs--an 8 year-old's composition, Little Dinosaur, downloadable on littlekids rock.org is a child-size Sgt. Pepper's--era Beatles tune. The musical styles range from rap to folk rock. When a classmate plays a moody new original at North Star one morning, "it makes me think of some old Bob Dylan stuff," says Jessica Dunston, 16, who is proud of her broad taste in music. "Most of my friends like...
Toting posters of admiration, Hasty Pudding members sang, “We love you, David,” parodying the lyrics from a tune in the popular ’60s musical, Bye Bye Birdie—and the Progressive Student Labor Movement’s (PSLM) Mass. Hall sit-in in Spring...
...Spears sure looks hearty enough, prancing up and down the stage at Manhattan's Gotham Hall, lip-synching songs from In the Zone while peeling off layer after layer of ever-tighter clothing. Her eight leather-clad backup dancers seem pretty robust too, particularly in a routine for a tune called Toxic, during which they blindfold Spears, roll her around the studio on an ottoman and run their hands - among other things - over her half-naked body. (Come to think of it, that guy who licked Spears' face does look a tad peaked.) "More mature and more sensual...
...into a heaving jewel box of glitter and gold lam?. About 40 women filled the tiny room, spilling over sofas and sitting in one another's laps. Space for a dance floor had been cleared between sprawling limbs, and a corpulent, velvet-bedecked woman gyrated to a popular Bollywood tune. When she tired, she was replaced by a girl whose undulating hips and gaudy makeup would not have been amiss in a strip joint. These were not the demure, burqa'd women I'd expected to meet in Afghanistan...