listening to the recently remastered double cd judy at carnegie, i understand why it was such a cultural touchstone, but the sheer discomfort at denial, obsession, bad singing, and things left unsaid, make me wonder exactly how little she knew, or how much...its not as much of a bad performance as one of total and complete emotional honesty, when the only thing left to be honest about is her own theatricality...

does that make it punk?