Word: matchboxes
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...notorious question: “From now on, you should just go, ‘Harvard, bitch.’” UP YOURS, MR. SMILEYIt’s a fuck-the-world attitude that Jenkins has adopted only too well, lambasting everyone from the President to Matchbox 20. Somewhat surprisingly, though, the person to get the most heat is not Rob Thomas, but Jenkins’ sixth grade teacher. “I was just a kid with dyslexia and ADD and he was a teacher with a fairly low IQ,” says Jenkins...
...people will let 3EB go. Other alums took a more hostile approach: as Matthew L. Kramer ’98 puts it, “Why do you care...?” Perhaps 3EB isn’t worth caring about, but any band capable of feuding with badass Matchbox Twenty is clearly deserving of some importance. “I guess Akon and Jay-Z were booked,” reasons Brian S. Panoff ’98. “But I suspect they don’t have the budget for anything other than lame...
...starts with a promising punch, but goes nowhere special. What the album really lacks is an element of surprise. After a few seconds of listening, it is pretty obvious where each song is going. “New Year’s Day” for instance, sounds like Matchbox 20 pop, but without the originality or heartfelt verses to back up its muscle-bound choruses. The album is not entirely a lost cause. The latter tracks offer more depth than the dry and predictable first half. A few nuanced production details earn the band some style points, like...
...brought back a bad memory. Thirteen years ago, I was on a plane traveling from my native city, Lucknow, to New Delhi. Fifteen minutes into the flight, I saw a young man walk from his seat into the galley; he was armed with a plastic jar and a matchbox. My worst fears were confirmed a few minutes later on seeing the ashen face of the flight attendant. We had been hijacked. It seems that not much has changed since then. It is better to exercise caution by strengthening security systems and giving up some freedoms than it is to accept...
...brought back a bad memory. Thirteen years ago, I was on a plane traveling from my native city, Lucknow, to New Delhi. Fifteen minutes into the flight, I saw a young man walk from his seat into the galley; he was armed with a plastic jar and a matchbox. My worst fears were confirmed a few minutes later on seeing the ashen face of the flight attendant. We had been hijacked. It seems that not much has changed since then. It is better to exercise caution by strengthening security systems and giving up some freedoms than it is to accept...