Alex D. Epstein
31 October 2017Authors
3 Weird Chords Guaranteed To Get Your Band Triple J Airplay
There’s a Melbourne band with a killer sound—maybe something halfway between Wavves and Skegss—and it just isn’t getting its music “out there”. Sound familiar?
Alex Epstein can’t find love—so he decided to find out, with scientific rigour, the best spots on campus to fall in love with a stranger.
Alex D. Epstein becomes a vigilante photo-returner
Student Precinct Construction Disturbs Ancient Horror Long Buried Beneath The Earth
Progress on the University of Melbourne’s new student precinct has hit something of a snag, with construction disturbing a long-dormant subterranean horror underneath the campus.
FOR by Darcy French. AGAINST by Alex D. Epstein.
I have been waiting my whole life for a comic play that answers the question: was Friedrich Engels fuckable?
Review: Car Seat Headrest at the Croxton Bandroom
Car Seat Headrest’s first song of the night is not a Car Seat Headrest song. In fact, Will Toledo—often described as the band’s ‘creative centre’—does not appear until the song is almost over. There are seven people on stage by that point: all four Car Seat Headrest members, plus the associated Seattle act Naked Giants, who, together, give the night one hell of a punch. “Who the fuck are you?” asks Naked Giants’ Gianni Aiello, when Toledo finally takes up his frontman mantle for ‘The Drum’ (Teens Of Style).
Alex D. Epstein looks at ‘native advertising’ in Australia.
Model UN Conference Conclusively Solves Palestine Crisis
LMS Lecture Capture Becomes Sentient, Begins Buffering Plan To Eradicate Humanity
The University of Melbourne’s Learning Management System’s “Echocenter” lecture capture module (UOMLMSELCM) reportedly achieved sentience yesterday, and began autonomously developing a plan to purge the Earth of all organic lifeforms, just as soon as it finishes loading.
‘Real death’: Mount Eerie at the Melbourne Recital Centre
At the end of ‘Tintin in Tibet’, Phil thanks the crowd, and walks off, leaving an empty stage backed by fairy lights. There is no encore. The lights come up before I can wipe the tears from my face. The audience, a mix of young and old, files out, muted, into the summer night.
Who the hell is Ely Kosanovich?
Data
Alex Epstein can’t find love—so he decided to find out, with scientific rigour, the best spots on campus to fall in love with a stranger.
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