Terri Sutton

  • Yo La Tengo

    If Yo La Tengo’s 1995 Electr-O-Pura slipped in as one of the last great guitar records B.E. (Before Electronica), their first studio album since claims no such aural purity. I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One shows that the Hoboken rock archivists have taken note of neighborhood transitions and signed up for Dance Music as a Second Language. Of course, they don’t even try to mask their native accent: the newly bumptious bass occasionally surfacing here doesn’t dilute the trio’s usual late-night guitar groove so much as recontextualizes it.

    At least on the face of it, rock ’n’ roll trance differs

  • Bad-Girl Cartoonists

    IN A STORY FROM Krystine Kryttre’s comic book Death Warmed Over, 1990, a man agrees to let his lover kill him and stew up his body in her new Crockpot. “I want you to become part of me,” she tells him. When cops come to the door, she’s caught with a mouthful of flesh and a couple thighbones poking out of the pot. “Uh oh,” she thinks, “I’ll bet this looks real bad.”

    An attraction to “bad” behavior inspires most of Kryttre’s work, and links her as well to a growing number of women cartoonists out to explode the limits of acceptable femininity. With titles like Slutburger Stories and Dirty Plotte

  • Music Vids

    WHY DO PEOPLE watch music videos, assuming they do? People I know watch them to pass the time, say, during the commercials of a network show, or while a movie vid rewinds. People I know don’t expect much from them, and they’re rarely surprised.

    Very occasionally a roommate will shriek, “Terri! It’s Monie Love.” Or Queen Latifah or the Jungle Brothers. Someone whose music I like already. And I’ll come running, and we’ll watch intently for clues to personality, trying to flesh out our grasp of the music through knowledge of the artist: how they look, move, emote; whether they can dance. Is their