Five years ago was a crazy time. Lots of artists I knew on the cusp of this and that. Below is one of the boys, below that ma' boy, and farther down still is the boy -- all of them in photos from half a decade ago, long before anyone cared.

The National, Dirty Projectors, Sharon Jones & St. Vincent all shared a stage earlier tonight (Central European Summer Time) at Les Nuits de Fourvière, a two-month long, multidisciplinary arts festival that happens every year in Lyon, France, about four hours Southeast of Paris by car.

All over the land you can hear hipsters saying, "You've got hip-hop in my indie rock," and all over the hip-hop nation, they are saying in return "You've got indie rock in my hip-hop." I've been meaning to write a bold, brilliant essayistic statement about this phenomenon.

I have a soft spot in my heart for Los Angeles Times emeritus pop critic Robert Hilburn. Back when I spent more time writing about music than enabling its makers to make a career at it, Bob was kind enough to invite me to the newspaper's dining hall for a pep talk.