The Current Issue
Issue 6: featuring a Turkish man with the head of a hammerhead shark, cowboy boots, and buried houses
Petrichor Review is now monthly! We'll be publishing new issues on the third Tuesday of every month. Also, look how pretty we are.
“Yes. I was a knight who died in battle.”
“Who said you died?”
“Tea leaf readers, a tarot master, and a clairvoyant. Even my spiritual counselor. I visited an Irish castle and something felt familiar when I walked the floors and held the sword and drank the mead.”
“Yes. But make them young.”
Pretend I’m On the Moon by Kirby Wright
What makes St. Vincent such a fascinating artist is her trajectory. Between each record, Clark goes through a death and rebirth. Her latest transmutation, St. Vincent, marks her emergence as peerless art-rock royalty.
While the album’s count in, “One, two, you know what to do,” sounds like a simple snippet from a band rehearsal, the sheer force and weight of the drums and the bass’s funky pulse signals that The Information is very much a polished, studio-recorded product. The band establishes an infectious groove within three seconds—true also in most of the heavier, rhythmic-centric tracks off the album. Beck’s opening line, “I’m uptight, super-gutted out the frame,” reflects and casts a shadow on the shreds of anxiety that pervade the record.
“What I will say is this: being a writer makes me a healthier person. The poison leaves through the pen. I don’t walk around carrying it all day. Whenever I read my work to a room, I give it away.”