Ziiiiiiiip up your space suit and get ready to Flashion Forward! We’re diving into fashion’s future with UI’s wacky space/time/fashion continuum through which we frolic about the closets of our fanciest, freshest interviewees and explore the zany cross-streets where aesthetics and sound colliiiiiide!
Today, we’re headed into the realm of Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, a name that sounds like it belongs to someone with the ability to write checks with a buttload of zeros. The only thing that’s missing is a Jr. or a series of Roman numerals after his name–guess he isn’t a WASP after all.
But that doesn’t mean dude can’t sting. Miles’ talent is reportedly as big as his name, size of the venue at which he warbles and strums be damned. The musician’s commitment to his audience is practically palpable at shows and on his well-received records. He’s in it for all of us: Some of his songs are nothing less than a “choir of the damned reach[ing] it’s fever pitch on ‘Written Over,’ a desperate plea for redemption and second chances that gathers a host of rawly unfulfilled voices to shout its titular refrain.”
No slouch in the existential crisis department–Miles is like Camus for the urban hipster set with ennui–he, natch, has the style chops to go with doe-eyed deeper-than-thou and I-could-probably-use-some-Prozac-but-I’ll-take-a-Pabst tortured artisté style we all know and love.
Best of all? He shows serious evidence of a working brain-stem, in addition to a tasty physique and envy-inducing talent. Below, check out Miles’ thoughts on the ugly side of American dream. Maybe our generation’s Camus comes with a guitar strapped to his back.
TOPICS: Flashion Forward, Kathleen Willcox