more accurately, creating anna shows us the power of
"Miracle Drug," with its neat turn around riff and martial beat, suggests nodding off on a cure all for "the perilous slide into time," stopping when it doesn't quite work to declaim, "Why all the history?" That line sounds like a plea against lost youth but is really merely a demand to know why there's so much history. 'Cuz, as anyone who's ever had cable will tell you, there's apparently quite a bit. Newman seems like a reader, the kind of guy who can probably tell you more about, say, Teapot Dome than any Canadian indie rocker ought to care to. His lyrics forge delectable little imagistic gewgaws from the discarded calling cards of our myriad unkempt pasts:'20s ad lingo, small town campaign slogans, want ads, self actualization rope a dope, Babbit y pick ya ups (as if these dead languages, like human beings, are merely another negative externality of capitalist cash cropping). He mixes these allusions with his own lexicon of ran