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On Sunday night, I noticed a story breaking on social media. I can't remember who sent the original tweet telling me to check Dirty Projectors member Amber Coffman's timeline, but I do remember that the tweet gave a h/t to MTV News Editorial Director of Music Jessica Hopper, a woman who fights tirelessly for other women to be heard. Reading Coffman's tweets felt all too familiar; I hadn't been through this exact scenario myself,...
Last night on Twitter Amber Coffman, one of the members of Brooklyn-based band Dirty Projectors, began tweeting about her experience with music publicist Heathcliff Berru of Life or Death PR and Management. Coffman recalled an incident where the publicist rubbed her ass and bit her hair, in front of several of her male friends.  https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689241020769280000 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689241386038607872 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689243235986702337 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689245788392669184 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689287391081660416 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689287711878860800 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689289076319490049 https://twitter.com/Amber_Coffman/status/689292700076486656 After Coffman shared her experience, another LA-based music publicist, Beth Martinez, replied that she had a similar experience: https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689292158449262593 https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689292271695429632 https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689293006625624064 https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689293306170228737 https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689293467340550144 https://twitter.com/dangervillage/status/689295684164403201 Martinez also shared her experience being...
Rock music needs no defending. It's absolutely awesome, and probably a big part of the reason why most people started loving music in the first place. Truthfully though, a lot of the elements that made rock interesting several decades ago started to become boring upon endless repetition. But then, something incredible happened. Different voices began to take those elements and bend them to fit different agendas. Women began to gain confidence, and came for...
"My parents bought me a boombox and A Boy Named Goo for my eighth birthday." Of all the things Cindy Lou Gooden tells me while sitting on a 70s-styled barstool in the triangulated anteroom of Montana's Trail House, this seems like the most apt introduction to the Brooklyn-based musician. She orders some fried green tomato sliders, explaining the connection between Autolux and Failure to me, before launching into a candid conversation about the very...

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