Maura Magazine | letter from the editor

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What kind of music makes you dig into yourself? Jeremy Larson traveled to Pittsburgh and connected the dots between enlightenment and drone metal at a class called BLACK YO)))GA. The name is an homage to the group Sunn O))), which I can absolutely appreciate; their music caused me to have an out-of-body experience last year […]


Voting with one’s music-buying dollars at the record store (or, in this case, the Target at Broadway Mall).


Remember the music video? Sure, it’s around (and still causing controversy, sort of!), but gone are the days when it would dominate entire afternoons of multiple basic-cable channels.


The other night a friend reminded me that my first instinct upon hearing about Kurt Cobain’s death (on the radio) was to go downstairs to my dorm’s computer lab and attempt to ferret out further details online.


I ran. I ran so far away. I ran so far away from Mumford & Sons and screeching brides and into the arms of a punk shrine in deep Brooklyn.


If you fall for that old line about gullible not being in the dictionary, it sticks with you for a long, long time.


Holy cow, it’s our 20th issue! And it has debut fiction, a song of the summer, and one of my writing idols!


Apologies if this week’s issue title gets that Blues Traveler song in your head. (It did that for me, too.)


The debut of our pinball columnist and some memories about the days of malls being seedy (and having actual record stores inside)


Every day, I jostle against other people in physical and non-physical space; viewing a website at the same time as other people, cramming myself into a three-seat bench on a peak-hour train, shouting 140-character opinions on topics important and mundane as others do the same.


If ever there was a week for escapism, this was it; the constant stream of bad news inspired more than one member of my Twitter timeline to dream out loud about diving under their covers and staying there for as long as possible.


It’s springtime, so let’s dust off the cobwebs and talk about music we like. Yes? Yes.

Get In The Ring

Wrestling, music videos, and class envy, oh my. Plus: It’s time for all of us to fight over the meaning of “hipster.”


Ah, the satisfying pop of a Snapple cap—the memories it brings back, from the sharpness of the salt bagel it accompanied to the satisfying sweetness of its first sip.


Back in the dialup era, February was notorious among the denizens of a bulletin board I frequented; without fail, it would be the month when so many long-simmering disagreements would boil over and catch fire, causing multi-post back-and-forths, resigning of conferences, snipey private-conference messages, and, sometimes, real-life dissolutions of friendships. The story went that even […]


When I was a cheeky, take-no-prisoners music blogger, one of my favorite tags was “lol words,” which I used to spotlight the silly, stupid, and downright horrifying ways that words would be twisted in service of some band or record or what-have-you. I got a lot of mileage out of it, and am a bit sad that my blogging career ended before social media really took off.


This issue is Maura Magazine’s 10th, and it looks at Big Things: American pop idolatry, country radio in New York City, the idea of the “perfect” song, and movies that fall in on themselves because of way too much self-referentiality.

February Hurts

It might be cliché to say it, but man oh man am I happy February is over.

Through The Glass

I’m always loath to read stories that have the phrase “a new study” in their first sentence, but those news items pointing to the Halifax Insurance Digital Home Index this week gave me some pause, if only because I thought that its estimate of the current generation of kids spending 25 percent of their lives in front of some sort of screen was pretty low.

Sweets For The Something

In keeping with matters Lenten and Valentine’s-related, this issue focuses on both the sugary and the acerbic.