On Great American Songs, scribbling, Delhi raptors and NYC.

“Even in chilly March, New York life is lived on the street, and soaking it in—characters and conversations, flashes of beauty and jabs of insight—is a particular New York kind of joy.”

On Almanacs, relics, poetry, “bad artists” and unpacking my (record) library…

“But the records—transported over the years from dorm to apartment to home—are expendable. As they leave, they take a part of me with them.”

On Wagner, QEII, Mose Allison and “Strolling.”

“A stroll isn’t brisk, it is ambling and slow. It isn’t measured in Apple watch heart rates or average daily steps.”