Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation’s freight handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.
So I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them: Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.
I been a wanderin'<br>Early and late,<br>New York City<br>To the Golden Gate<br>An’ it looks like<br>I’m never gonna cease my<br>Wanderin’.
Cities like Portland, Seattle, and Long Beach, which have made these investments in their infrastructure, are seeing not only health advantages, but also a lot more exchange in the community, which leads to better policy-making and stronger communities.
For every show that we do, anyone that rides public transit, bikes, or walk, we offer them a $5 voucher at the merch table. It gets people using the infrastructure in the area. Hopefully, the venues where we play will lobby city council and say, we need bike paths, sidewalk repair. That stuff affects so many people’s lives.
The Potemkin city of which I wish to speak here is none other than our dear Vienna herself.
This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?
When I got to New York City when I was 18, I started playing in clubs in Brooklyn – I have good friends and devoted fans on the underground scene, but we were playing for each other at that point – and that was it.
Walking through the city streets… Is it by mistake or design?
The cool, grey city of love.
It had not been a long journey, but the memory of it filled her like an infection. She had felt tethered by time to the city behind her, so that the minutes stretched out taut as she moved away, and slowed the farther she got, dragging out her little voyage.
A city like London was always going to be a paradox, the best of it so very riddled with the opposite, so Swiss-cheesed with moral holes.
My favorite food city is wherever I happen to be eating. You know what they say, love the one you’re with!
I will not perform in this city as long as the blatant targeting of black culture and minorities congregating is acceptable common practice.
I always wanted everyone to like me. I wanted the city of Pittsburgh to be proud of me. But my first few seasons, I could to count the number of people on my bandwagon on one finger.
You have to understand, now, I’m a momma’s boy. I’m from the south. My way of being raised is totally different than the big city life. I truly was a country boy.
There’s nobody on a normal income who can afford to live anywhere centrally, so everything becomes displaced and decentralized. The city [of London] becomes incongruent. It doesn’t have any coherence anymore.
I lived on a farm with cows, and I lived in the city with rats. My family stayed in Colorado for a while, then went from Los Angeles to Arizona. People would ask me where I’m from, and I would have to say, ‘I don’t have a clear answer for you.’
I drive a lot. Just for pleasure. Sometimes I’ll get in the Cadillac and drive around the city or the country, kind of trying to get lost basically. Y’know, just see where roads lead.
Cities have personalities, just as people do, and that finding the right place to live is akin to finding the right partner to live with.
Nothing lasts forever. But—especially as it seems to me cities and humans are symbiotically and inextricably bound at this point—I hope cities have a good, long run. Plus, cities are beautiful creatures in their own right; and as with us, their vulnerability and ephemerality are part of that beauty.
I create enclosed spaces mainly by means of thick concrete walls. The primary reason is to create a place for the individual, a zone for oneself within society. When the external factors of a city’s environment require the wall to be without openings, the interior must be especially full and satisfying.
Look at London or Paris: they’re both filthy. You don’t get that in Tokyo. The proud residents look after their city.
You want each city to be different, not just see the same shopping malls and stores wherever you go. That’s not healthy.
I like the sense of the road passing my eyes. It’s always a fascinating experience to come into a new city…the sense of the people changing, the food changing, everything changing, the art.
Russia tried to introduce beer as kind of the new vodka – and it’s working with younger people in major cities – but you can have ten shots of vodka and be perfectly okay. If I had ten beers, I would be liquidated.
Every returning New Yorker asks the question: Is this still my city? I have a ready answer, cloaked in obstinate despair: It is. And if it’s not, I will love it all the more. I will love it to the point where it becomes mine again.
It is we who built these palaces and cities, here in Spain and America and everywhere. We, the workers. We can build others to take their place. And better ones. We are not in the least afraid of ruins.
We are going to inherit the earth . There is not the slightest doubt about that. The bourgeoisie may blast and burn its own world before it finally leaves the stage of history. We Are not afraid of ruins. We who ploughed the prairies and built the cities can build again, only better next time. We carry a new world, here in our hearts. That world is growing this minute.
Sometimes when I’m traveling, I feel a little bit dislocated, especially the transitions you make when you’re traveling – you go to a different city every day.
I find that I’m always struggling with the noise of the city. When I get a good take, there will be a horn or a siren or something. So it makes me very conscious of outside sounds, which in a way maybe led me to incorporate the field recordings.
One of the weird things about L.A. is that there’s always a set of negative perceptions that attaches itself to this city.
You look at the absolute scorn that gets poured on a fallen celebrity, whether it’s Tom Cruise or Lindsay Lohan or Marlon Brando, or Elvis when he got fat. They’re not allowed the dignity of ordinary failure. And I think that plays into people’s notions about Los Angeles, too. It’s not allowed to be a regular city with problems.
New York City does not hold our former selves against us. Perhaps we can extend the same courtesy.