I read again today in some jumped-up blog that “rock is dead.” Yeah, right. How often do I have to explain, like Monty Python’s parrot, that it isn’t dead? It is merely resting? It does that sometimes; after all, any genre born in the mid-fifties needs to recharge its batteries now and again. And how do I know that it is just resting? Because when I hear “Fever Dream” by Kicking Edgar, I hear the sound of…
read the full review at The Big Takeover
