"Radiator Sister"

From the Mynabirds' Generals


Liner notes: Indie folk-pop siren Laura Burhenn channels glam gods T. Rex on a rave-up from the sophomore Mynabirds album, which adds funk, torch laments and stadium rock to her always-tuneful mix.

Behind the music: Formerly half of the DC duo Georgie James and a member of Bright Eyes' touring band, Burhenn is instigator of, a portrait project saluting modern-day women warriors who stand up to injustice.

Check it out if you like: Fiona Apple, Laura Marling, and Sam Phillips—all adept at combining pleasant sounds and strong ideas.


Courtesy of Crown Publishing Group

Full Body Burden: Growing Up in the Nuclear Shadow of Rocky Flats

By Kristen Iversen


Kristen Iversen was raised near the Rocky Flats facility in Colorado, at a time when few workers at the plutonium trigger plant knew exactly what it produced. Eventually, reports of groundwater contamination, missing plutonium (3,000 pounds!), radioactive rabbits, and cancer fears drew protesters—including Allen Ginsberg—to the gates. But it wasn't until Iversen, by then a broke mom, took a job at the plant that she learned what was up. Her memoir is a deft rebellion against the silences, public and intimate, that have proven disastrous for her community.

This review originally appeared in our July/August issue of Mother Jones. 

Moonrise Kingdom
Focus Features
97 minutes

There are a lot of way you could describe Wes Anderson's latest comedy: Quirky. Poetic. Record-breaking. Precious and self aware to the point that it damn near smothers itself, even. But "blood-stained child pornography" is not one of them.

Before I get into the whole kiddie porn/not kiddie porn thing, let's get this out of the way: You shoud see Moonrise Kingdom this weekend. It's visually sublime and punch-drunkenly funny. Anderson takes his patented directorial style (the controlled kookiness, the smooth pans, the color coordination, the deadpan everything) out for what might be its definitive spin. And aside from a few bizarre narrative stumbles in the last 15 minutes, the movie is a straight shot of single malt wit. Also, the performances are uniformly terrific, with all parties, from Tilda Swinton to Bill M.F. Murray, nimbly straddling the thin line between relatability and utter freakshow.

I'd now like to focus on a scene you're sure to hear a lot about, even from—perhaps especially from—those who haven't bothered to see the movie. The plot centers around Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward) and Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman), two New England preteens who run away from respective homes. Suzy is an emotionally disturbed ginger prone to attacking her peers. Sam is a bespectacled, air-rifle savvy orphan who's been duly ostracized by his fellow "khaki scouts."