~shaking riffs

Essential Listening: Elizabeth Navarro time travels back to the first post-Grunge years

I am retired grunge girl who now dabbles in housewifery. The angst coveting girl in flannel and cut-off grey sweats who listened to Nirvana, The Cure and Violent Femmes was left in the mid-nineties. Since then I had been looking for something. Music that excited me the way Smells like Teen Spirit had when I first heard it. The way The Pixies Bone Machine made me crave Japanese fast food. And though my torment had morphed from wild and dramatic teen agony to a quieter rebellion, I still needed a voice for it. I needed angst with

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~Shaking Now

Not What He Said But How

shakinglikeamountainA long channel of breath, Ginsberg
called him, the old stroked-out poet
with half-shut eyes and stiff lips
limning an image of the lean
smokestack…

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mixtapes

SONGS I LISTENED TO DURING EACH OF THE FOREVER-LIFE-CHANGING MOMENTS IN MY LIFE

Song I listened to the summer I turned fifteen: Radiohead’s “High and Dry.” I was studying writing for six weeks at Andover and there was a boy with a guitar singing beneath a tree on the quad. I still remember his name: Jeff Agia. He introduced me that day to Radiohead. What a crush I had. What a silly girl I was. He never knew I

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reviews

Crazy Heart, Take II: Falling and Flying

Jeff Bridges as Bad Blake in Scott CooperCrazy Heart’s well-traveled tale concerns itself with Bad Blake (Bridges), yet another country and western macho poet with a fistful of magical songs, heartsick and stumbling towards oblivion with a lungful of cigarette smoke and gut full of bourbon. Blake bounces from Bowling Alley stage to straight-up saloon gig, often puking mid-song, piloting himself with laid back charm or churlishness, almost broken with regret, yet nursing dreams about reversing his showbiz status. His shaky encounters with a trio of antagonists set the stage for an admirably unforced and neatly ambiguous tale of

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~poems

At the Red Lobster in Duluth, MN

cartoon by Arsenio OrtezaHe left behind the frozen landscape
and empty mines of his Midwestern home
to head east, for New York
where he heard it was all

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Featured

The first ever Shaking Presents... February 27, 2010

Mark Cutler sings/plays/shakes the mountain/2-27This past Saturday night, fifty-plus hearty spirits crowded the Mediator Fellowship Hall in Providence, RI, braving the churlish end-of-February weather for a night of shiny music, shimmering poetry and shaking prose. It was shaking’s maiden voyage public-wise, a shakingdown cruise so to speak. Everyone survived. Yea, I dare say even flourished__ to the delight of the writers and presenters (Jericho Brown, Marita Andrade, Jo-Ann Reid, R.A. Stovetop Lawson, Liz Carter, Scott Duhamel and shaking editor Mr. Don), and a trio of fine singer/ songwriters (Mark Cutler, Chris Monti and Anthony Loffredio).The next one’s already on the drawing table; check these pages for announcements of more shaking evenings to

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reviews

Just Kids: Book Review

just kidsAnother writer once proclaimed Patti Smith to be the “Godmother of Punk,” and it would be tricky to dispute that she doesn’t deserve the title. Her 1975 debut album, the seminal Horses, uses an effective blend of well-crafted poetry and three chord guitar rock with beautifully placed feedback to set a standard for a generation of rockers. Bands such as R.E.M. and The Smiths, which fielded influential musicians of their own, have remarked on the impact of Smith’s music on their own

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mixtapes

Jericho Brown's Down and Dirty Funk and Soul Mix

Poet Jericho Brown lays down the perfect mix tape to groove to, break up to, and dance lying down to.
Featuring tracks by Prince, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Tendy Pendergrass, and

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~poems

On the Bridge

Alison LutermanRain for weeks, Biblical,
the streets slick
as licked gray sticks of gum.
Merciless sluice
over the

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~stories

The Jazz Pianist and the Misanthrope

by R.m. CresserWhen does it dawn on you that you want to play the piano? When your mother keeps dragging you off to see her best friend, Dame Myra Hess? When the toy piano you got for your fourth birthday is the only thing you managed to save from the earthquake? Or is it when you pass a musical instruments store, suddenly begin trembling, go inside, sit down at the first bench, and, without knowing how, spin off what the astounded salesman identifies as Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and

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