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Take three notorious singer-songwriters and one famous author. Give them eight hours to write and record an eight-song album. Broadcast the session on the internet. Release the album online the next morning, and perform it live in front of an audience the following night.
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If you're a music fan, over the past few years you've had to wrestle with the moral question of our time: to pay or not to pay.
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Music is data. A shitload of it packed in every single song. To people, music equals entertainment. To a computer, it's a precise stream of ones and zeros.
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This column used to have a rule about never eating within 1000 cubits of a college, government building, or sports stadium. It's all about transient foot traffic, the kind that doesn't keep a kitchen honest. Colleges have somewhat reduced their radius of bogosity, but the double-curse of the TD Garden and the O'Neill Federal Building has kept the North Station area pretty dismal for diners out.
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The Providence Phoenix gives out the Best Awards at the Met on April 20, 2011. Check out the winners here .
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The Independent Film Festival of Boston — now in its ninth year, and the most exciting film event in town, if not in New England — opens this week with two outstanding documentaries about two very independent and inspiring individuals.
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Shawn Fogel of Golden Bloom knows that his latest stage act is a formula for potential enormous suckitude. Take one of indie rock's sacred cows — Neutral Milk Hotel's 1999 album In the Aeroplane over the Sea — and play the whole thing, straight through, on ukuleles. Then have the audacity to call it Neutral Uke Hotel.
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Forensic scientists, bit players in crime fiction since the era of Sherlock Holmes, became bestseller material in the 1990s with Patricia Cornwell's cut-and-slice procedurals featuring medical examiner Kay Scarpetta.
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