Colin Fleming

Fifty years ago, the record was the band's first solid effort to show it could go toe-to-toe with the blues greats.

Halloween deserves music fit for jangling bones and moldering souls. Halloween deserves Camille Saint-Saëns’s 1874 classical masterpiece, Danse Macabre.

A cinematic masterpiece disguised as a generic rock-and-roll film turns 50.

With a dose of humility, a symbol of rock-music pretension becomes a humane, powerful thing.

200 years old today, it remains a gonzo, satirical, life-affirming masterpiece that never quite got its due.

Months before the The Ed Sullivan Show, the band played a seven-song set for Swedish radio that settles any doubt about their electrifying live presence.

The 1916 book traces the misadventures of a struggling pitcher through the letters he writes home to his friend Al.

Listening to a young band rapidly assimilating and remixing genres it would soon transcend

Colonel Blimp—newly re-released by the Criterion Collection—packs emotional depth and a touch of magic as it tells the story of two men's true friendship in wartime.