of movies I intend to frequently 
re-watch. I never took much to 
e-readers or e-books and like 
to read front to back a copy of 
the New Yorker that comes to 
my door every week (thank you, 
Grandpa). Before I joined The 
Daily, I would always pick up a 
copy on my way up my dorm at 
the end of the day. Call me old-
fashioned, but there’s something 
about actually having a physical 
copy of a piece of entertainment 
or work of literature that helps 

me to connect with it. I find that 
screens create a distance between 
us and the material we are trying 
to engage with, or at least they 
do for me. That’s why I’m against 
media socialism. I live in fear of 
the idea that one day, the only 
place I will be able to find new 
music is by paying $10 a month 
to Spotify or, god forbid, giving 
even more money to Apple. So 
join me. Drag that song from 
your iTunes to your iPhone. Pop 
that CD into the player in the car. 

Bust out a cassette tape every 
now and then. You might find 
yourself rediscovering an old 
favorite, or finding new meaning 
a song you’ve heard a thousand 

times. You might also realize you 
haven’t been missing anything 
at all. In that case, no problem, 
I’m sure Spotify will have a few 
suggestions for you.

Spotify. 
Pandora. 
Apple 

Music. What do these things 
have in common? They are 
all music streaming services 
that 
have 
become 
all 
but 

omnipresent 
across 
the 

entertainment landscape. Hulu, 
Netflix, Amazon Prime and the 
forthcoming Disney streaming 
service are gaining an ever 
larger foothold on the way we 
consume media. I try to avoid 
taking part in any of it. Oh sure, 
I mooch off my family’s Netflix 
account and occasionally log 
into my roommate’s HBO Go app 
on my laptop, but when it comes 
to music, for many years now, 
I have done what most of my 
friends are convinced is insane: 
I’ve remained firmly rooted in 
the past.

I have never had a Spotify 

account. 
Ditto 
for 
Pandora 

or Apple Music. When I was 
in 
middle 
school, 
I 
would 

occasionally 
dabble 
with 

Grooveshark, which to the ill-
informed was kind of like a free 
Spotify before Spotify was a 
thing (it was also totally illegal 
and got shut down eventually), 
but I never made the jump to 
the trendier music platforms 
that have come to dominate our 
culture. There’s a very simple 
reason for this, the same one I 
give whenever I am questioned 
on this point by any of my 
understandably 
incredulous 

friends: I don’t believe in media 
socialism.

There’s an analogy I like to 

use whenever I end up on this 
particular soapbox. Imagine a 
world where there aren’t any 

bookstores. The only way you 
can read books is by going to a 
library. Now imagine that public 
libraries don’t exist. The only 
libraries that are around are ones 
privately funded and owned by 
corporations that have become 
increasingly 
stringent 
about 

giving the authors of those books 

the proper cut of the profits from 
their work. These authors have 
no choice but to go along with 
this system because if they don’t 
put their writing out through 
these privately owned libraries, 
then there will be no real way for 
them to get it out at all. That is 
the world that I believe we will 
soon be living in with regards to 
music.

What will I do if, say a decade 

from now, I decide I don’t 
agree with something that the 
Spotify company is doing, or, 
for whatever reason, I no longer 
want to pay for the service and 
decide to leave it? Suddenly, I no 
longer have access to any music 

from the past decade and a half 
of my life, having not purchased 
an album since around 2013. 
I already feel trapped in the 
technological prison of Apple. 
In the past two years, both my 
phone and laptop have broken 
and have required replacement 
and both times I felt forced to 
pay a new Apple product even 
though I felt strongly that I was 
buying what was essentially an 
inferior product to what I had 
before (the lack of ports on the 
new MacBook Pro is especially 
detrimental to a film major’s 
lifestyle). I fear that many of us 
will soon end up in this same 
trap with music.

I 
still 
download 
songs 

(or 
albums 
from 
CDs 
I’ve 

purchased), load them onto my 
iPhone and manually choose 
what playlists and songs to listen 
to whenever I leave class or go 
for a run. Many have called me 
insane. I can only get away with 
this because I don’t listen to a lot 
of modern music, so it’s not like 
I’m constantly having to go out 
and buy the new Travis Scott or 
Kanye West album. Those people 
might be right. But I don’t think 
I’m entirely wrong either. Much 
and more has been written about 
how bad the move to streaming 
is for artists, and while it 
seemingly creates a more diverse 
marketplace, it also minimizes 
the number of outlets that 
new music can be successfully 
distributed through.

I’m a slow adapter. I still 

frequently use my external disc 
drive. I’m not at all opposed to 
purchasing DVDs or Blu-Rays 

By Tim Schenck
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
10/24/18

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

10/24/18

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Wednesday, October 24, 2018

ACROSS
1 Vote to accept
6 Sincerely asks for
10 Vicki Lawrence 
sitcom role
14 Harley owner
15 “This is __ a test”
16 Flower painted by 
van Gogh
17 Roadblocks
19 Friendly
20 Win the affections 
of
21 “__ lost!”
22 Mental flash
23 Be rude to
24 Doc’s org.
26 Good name for 
many a tree-lined 
street
28 Energy
29 Barely sufficient
33 “Unbreakable 
Kimmy Schmidt” 
co-creator Fey
37 Crossed (out)
39 Prepare, as 
Romano
40 Womb-related
42 Crowd control 
weapon
44 Part of TNT
45 Trace amount
47 Not tacit
48 Ledger column
50 Charlotte-to-
Raleigh dir.
51 Did nothing
52 Calypso-
influenced genre
53 __ of March
57 Minor argument
60 Baseball bat 
wood
62 In the center
64 Airport idler
65 Gambles in a 
church basement, 
maybe
67 Golfer’s selection
68 Easy gait
69 Winemaker with 
1900 acres of 
vineyards in 
California
70 __ a bell: 
sounded familiar
71 Short-horned 
bighorns
72 Lid inflammations

DOWN
1 Clerics in un 
monastère

2 “Outlander” 
novelist 
Gabaldon
3 Gumbo pods
4 Salon jobs
5 Crosby, Stills & 
Nash, e.g.
6 Fancy neckwear
7 Final stage of a 
chess match
8 TV series with 
choreographed 
numbers
9 Word with metric 
or merit
10 Wawa and 
7-Eleven
11 Bone-dry
12 Attic pests
13 Topside, 
perhaps
18 Cowardly
25 With 38-Down, 
bar offering 
found in each set 
of circles
27 Big name 
in small 
construction
30 “Poker Face” 
Lady
31 Needle case
32 Tear to bits
33 Sushi option

34 “For real?”
35 Brooklyn NBA 
team
36 Captivating
38 See 25-Down
41 Greek letter
43 Support group?
46 Mold into a new 
form
49 Paper clip 
alternative
53 Senseless sort
54 Shabby

55 Sharp-eyed 
hunter
56 Astringent 
plumlike fruits
57 Prepare, as a 
25-/38-Down
58 Prefix with graph
59 Neural 
transmitter
61 Hoping for more 
customers
63 Drops off
66 “Amen!”

Why I don’t believe in 

“media socialism” 

IAN HARRIS

For a band from Toronto, 

Great Lake Swimmers gives off 
a strong flyover country vibe, 
an initial modesty that quickly 
finds its voice. At The Ark on a 
rainy Friday night, lead singer 
Tony Dekker stood awkwardly 
at the mic, his hands in fists 
and stance unbalanced. Bassist 
Bret Higgins wore abbreviated 
cowboy 
boots 
that 
barely 

reached above his ankles. The 
rest of the ensemble — Kelsey 
McNulty on keyboards and 
Erik Arnesen on guitar and 
banjo — also exuded a midwest 
humbleness in their presence. 
Only 
drummer 
Marshall 

Bureau added a showy, urban 
energy to the stage. However, 
once the band settled in, their 
music pulled the audience 
along for a great ride.

On tour for their new album 

The Waves, The Wake, Great 
Lake Swimmers stepped away 
from 
their 
usual 
acoustic 

guitar-centered sound to a 
more multi-instrumental taste. 
The band often records albums 
in non-studio locations like an 
abandoned grain silo for their 
debut Great Lake Swimmers 
and a 145-year-old church for 
The Waves, The Wake. As a 
result, even with the acoustic 

beauty produced in a venue 
like The Ark, their live set 
has trouble mimicking the 
recording.

Still, Great Lake Swimmers 

found 
a 
way 
to 
fill 
the 

space with the addition of 
McNulty on keyboards. Her 
stripped-down synth patterns 
contrasted the more classic 
folk guitars and bass, bringing 
the band into a new era. 
Although the band could not 
transport a whole woodwind 

section, they were clever in 
how to adjust the set and 
minimize gaps in the music. 
Several songs began with a 
solo instrument then added 
different sounds, crescendoing 
into a massive wave.

Despite their indie status, 

Great 
Lake 
Swimmers 

released 
their 
first 
album 

back in 2003 and have since 
produced a steady stream of 
EPs and records. Reliant on 
the songwriting talents of 
Dekker, Great Lake Swimmers 
has been a constant presence 
in 
the 
Canadian 
folk-rock 

scene, receiving nominations 
for the Polaris Prize and Juno 
Awards. 
While 
tracks 
like 

“The Great Exhale” from New 
Wild Everywhere and “Zero 
in the City” from A Forest of 
Arms follow the traditional 
songwriting 
verse-chorus-

verse-chorus formula, other 
tracks run off on tangents of 
enchanting harmonization or 
instrumental interludes. When 
the band played “In a Certain 
Way,” Arnesen’s banjo riff 
alone could carry the song.

Great Lake Swimmers are a 

hidden gem of folk rock music. 
Although they are based in 
Canada, their soulful rhythm 
guitar 
and 
sincere 
lyrics 

radiate a Midwestern feel, 
making the band right at home 
in the Great Lakes state.

Great Lake Swimmers 
own the midwest sound

MEGHAN CHOU

Daily Arts Writer

CONCERT REVIEW

NETTWERK

Although they 
are based in 
Canada, their 
soulful rhythm 

guitar and sincere 

lyrics radiate a 
Midwestern feel, 
making the band 
right at home in 
the Great Lakes 

state.

Heists have never felt so 

heartwarming. 

“The Old Man and the Gun” 

provides the mostly-true story 
of Forrest Tucker, a lifelong 
criminal who escapes prison at 
70 and begins a gleeful spree of 
robberies again. He confounds 
nearly everyone he encounters, 
from a woman he falls in love 
with 
(Sissy 
Spacek, 
“The 

Help”) to an amused detective 
(Casey Affleck, “Manchester 
by the Sea”) to dozens of 
nervous bank tellers.

Director David Lowery (“A 

Ghost Story”) outfits the film 
with a nostalgic look and feel. 
The picture is grainy enough 
to feel as if the events not 
only happened in another era, 
but were filmed then too. His 
camerawork is self-indulgently 
goofy at times, with quick 
pans 
and 
zooms, 
invoking 

the absurdity of the story 
at hand, yet his style more 
prominently features extreme 
close-ups of his well-chosen 
cast. The proximity to their 
visages is not claustrophobic; 
it’s endearing and emotionally 
persuasive. 

Perhaps 
these 
shots 

work 
well 
because 
every 

performance in the film is 

genuine 
and 
captivating. 

Even those in the supporting 
cast, including Danny Glover 
(“Sorry to Bother You”) and 
Tom Waits (“Short Cuts”), 
never feel as though they are 
acting. Each line of dialogue 
feels fresh and spontaneous, 

each idiosyncrasy smooth and 
habitual. Above all, the film 
oozes humanity, and that’s why 
its impact is so memorable.

“Old 
Man” 
defies 
the 

abrasive tendencies in its genre 
with admirable indifference. 
It is among the few truly 
“feel good” crime stories, not 
forcing a viewer in with guns 
and violence, but inviting them 
instead with a pair of twinkling 
eyes and an old-timey charm. 

Those twinkling eyes, of 

course, belong to none other 
than Robert Redford, a legend 
made iconic by his role as 
the Sundance Kid. Not only 
does Redford’s dry wit and 

contagious 
grin 
hold 
the 

movie together, but makes it 
believable too. A viewer might 
ask themselves, “Would I really 
hand over money to a man 
who never showed me that he 
had a gun?” And upon seeing 
Redford’s confident charisma, 
the answer is inarguably: Yes. 

A recurring point of humor 

in the movie is the way that 
Tucker 
smiles 
politely 
at 

the people as he robs them, 
making them feel at ease as 
they hand over bags of cash. 
But the expression is as much 
a descriptor of Redford’s witty 
charm as it is the audience’s 
reaction to the robberies — not 
trepidation or urgency, but 
glee.

For 
all 
these 
enjoyable 

moments, the film purviews 
a 
gentle 
appreciation 
and 

not much else. Lowery aims 
for a pure, untainted ode to 
Redford’s 
legendary 
career, 

and 
that’s 
not 
necessarily 

a bad thing. But when the 
narrative momentum picks up, 
the genuflection overrides any 
possibility of tension from the 
audience. 

The truth is, the film wraps 

the viewer up so completely 
within itself that the constant 
encomium does not vastly take 
away from the experience. 
However, it prevents the film 
from having a truly gripping 

Robert Redford charms in 
‘The Old Man and the Gun’

ANISH TAMHANEY

Daily Arts Writer

“The Old 

Man and the 

Gun”

Michigan Theater

Fox Searchlight 

Imagine a 

world where 
there aren’t 

any bookstores. 
The only way 
you can read 
books is by 
going to a 

library. Now 
imagine that 
public libraries 

don’t exist. 

DAILY ENTERTAINMENT COLUMN

FILM REVIEW

FOX SEARCHLIGHT

6A — Wednesday , October 24, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

