So I’ve long found Pitchfork Media an invaluable source for solid reviews of indie records, but an astute friend has hepped me to the intolerable coolness of William Bowers’ stuff: In addition to fulfilling the standard review function of letting you know whether you want to listen to / buy the album in question, they’re damn good as freestanding humor writing, even if you can’t stand indie rock. Check out the Gillian Welch review and the pre–White Blood Cells White Stripes review. Suddenly my own writing style feels embarassingly dry.