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Into the Gizzverse with Shrimp and Juicy
The New Yorker

“King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, the pretty-much-every-genre rock band from Australia, boarded a tour bus in Montreal at 2 a.m. one night this month and arrived in Brooklyn nine hours later. No gig until the following night, in Queens: a rare day off. “I passed out for an hour at the hotel, grabbed a chicken burrito, and here we are,” Ambrose Kenny-Smith, one of the band’s singers and multi-instrumentalists, said that afternoon. “Here” was a skate park under the Kosciuszko Bridge, on the Brooklyn side of Newtown Creek. “On off days, we try to go for a skate,” he said. “It keeps the mental health in check.””

“SEX EDUCATION,” SEASON 2: THE DOCTOR IS IN
The New Yorker

When it débuted on Netflix last year, the British series “Sex Education,” created and co-written by Laurie Nunn, established itself as one of the freshest, funniest, and most humane depictions of teen life in years. (Its second season came out on Friday.) It centers on Otis (Asa Butterfield), a mild-mannered teen who, despite being a virgin in a dorky windbreaker, in the first season becomes a sex therapist to his high-school peers. He’s got hangups—he won’t even masturbate—but, all around him, the world is bursting with vitality and lust, and, because his divorced parents are both sex therapists, he’s got the concepts down. A savvy classmate, Maeve (Emma Mackey), notices his talent for giving advice, and the plot unfurls from there. “Sex Education” has fun with its concept and characters while respecting them: we get to know people through their intimate vulnerabilities, alongside diagrams of genitalia and phrases like “scrotal anxiety.” As they manage their clinic and their lives, Otis and Maeve fall in love, but not at the same time. The writing and performances (many by relatively unknown young actors) are so sharp that, by the end of the first season, the status of each relationship felt like a cliffhanger.

Is Mac DeMarco Growing Up?
The New Yorker

Still mourning the death of his friend Mac Miller and nursing a two-day hangover, the yacht-rock guitarist dropped by “The Tonight Show” and reflected on Michael McDonald, Volvos, and bone broth.

Mac Demarco talks to The New Yorker about James Taylor
The New Yorker

“…they confirm that a truly great song exists outside of time and trend. But parallels between DeMarco and Taylor extend beyond their sound: they’ve both been known as boyish wild men who are fond of the bottle, and whose unpredictable, spastic personalities are at odds with the mellow, emotive songs they write.”