I could get used to this two day week malarky alright, as long as I got the dosh for five of course. Anyway, this is just a quick in and out... there's a new Wreckless posting on his site and I figured that you'd want to know. Incase you hadn't checked it lately. Amy has also updated Little Fugitive in France so check that out too.
Doubt I'll be back on this thing tonight. Been feeling wabbit all day and I think that bloody cold that's been threatening is about to kick my jacksy. Don't want to be artexing the screen now does I. I'm going to be tuning into some of the Glastonbury coverage and perhaps shouting at the telly over the weekend.
Oh yeah, the Primitive Festival is on too in Rotterdam. Perhaps J has cut along yonder?
Anyways, whatever you're up to - don't let the bastards grind you down.
Friday, June 22, 2007
It's the night after the longest day and were heading back for what used to be winter...
Don't forget, it's Gearfest in Stockholm.
Murray tells me that TV21 and Vic Godard are at The Citrus Club in Edinburgh tonight.
and The Star Spangles are at Arlene's Grocery in New York.
Me? I won't be straying far from the midden heid here...
Don't forget, it's Gearfest in Stockholm.
Murray tells me that TV21 and Vic Godard are at The Citrus Club in Edinburgh tonight.
and The Star Spangles are at Arlene's Grocery in New York.
Me? I won't be straying far from the midden heid here...
Thursday, June 21, 2007
According to the calendar it’s 2007. The day to day bullshit would suggest this is correct but there are hints elsewhere that some kind of timeslip is going on.
So I head south to catch some of my favourite artists of all time, people who have shaped my existence and provided the soundtrack to it. And also to hang out with old, and newer, dear friends. Three shows over four days and several pints of Guinness later I’m back and trying to figure what just happened. Could it have been real? Well let’s try and recap… you guys be Melfi.
Let’s leave the shortcomings of the transport system be and cut straight to Part One, a free show by Alan Vega at The Roundhouse. A place I hadn’t been since I saw The Dictators open for a bunch of hippie bandwagoners in November of 77. Driving into Camden, we went past CSM. The man who has been providing that authoritative “Seven Ages of Bollocks” rock knowledge this past few weeks courtesy of the BBC. No punch up the hooter is forthcoming because, well, what if we couldn’t get in?
It was timely to just walk in as the lights were going down for the inaugural STATION broadcast to begin. With a successful ATP appearance in the bag back in May, anticipation was high. As Alan prowled the stage, Liz conjured up the dense techno demos from the contraption that is part Dr Who prop/part theremin as designed by IBM. The man who does the best “uh huh huh” this side of Sun Elvis was delivering his manifesto. At a couple of points, Alan and Liz’s son Dante also took the stage. It’s a family affair... Somebody handed him a “no smoking” sign during the performance. This was momentarily brandished and despatched even quicker. A special law will have to be passed so that Alan Vega has dispensation to smoke wherever the heck he likes. Don’t these people have any idea who he is?
Sunday is generally considered to be a day of rest and this can take many forms. This one meant meeting Bigor and Viva and hitting a bar called “The Gun”. They’d come from Ljubljana to pay respect to the man who would be playing his first UK show ever the very next day. He’d (always) been here before when the CBS album came out but only for press. Our Slovenian friends were familiar with this part of London. I’d ever been down there before but it’s like another world. A whole new outpost of culture, very little of which felt much like being in England. The music at Café 1001 might have sucked but the vibe was happening. We ended up in a Punjabi restaurant called Tayyabs which was just plain great. Way different to that type of food in this part of the world. If you’re down London way then it’s well worth getting off the beaten path for. I had a ball down there. When I was leaving the underground station to walk from Hammersmith to Chiswick it started to piss with rain but this was one waterproof parade, the ideal night for a wander around the edge of the Thames.
Monday kicked off with meeting Howard at the hotel. He’s been at the coal face of the Suicide phenom since he worked with Bronze Records thirty years ago. Consequently, coincidentally, whatever way you wanna call it, three of the acts he signed back yonder have shows in London over the weekend. Four if you want to include Dean and Britta and factor in Luna. First was Motorhead who kicked off Meltdown on Saturday. Some smart folks had the presence of mind to cut to the AV show straight after. That’s initiative in action right there. H is also responsible for the CBS Roky album that would provide the centrepiece material for the RFH show later that evening. Much as I love “You’re Gonna Miss Me”, it’s no “Bloody Hammer”. Anyway that’s a helluva cv. Maybe none of those acts sold a gazillion records but their influence on all manner of culture is impossible to measure. If there’s a pigeonhole marked “classic rock’n’roll” the I guess you could put the blame on H. Man, it was great to catch up. He showed me a copy of a flyer for the upcoming Suicide wreckrospective that was from 1971, and it mentioned “punk”. Alan and Martin were presented with a Mojo award that evening and there will be a major feature in the magazine, I think in the August issue.
We’re talking pioneers here. People who forged something out of seemingly nothing to touch history. While H and the Frankies were whooping it up at “The Brewery” with Alice Cooper and Ron Asheton (who incidentally LOVES “Cake”) I was living it large at the RFH, the scene of Roky Erickson’s first ever performance on UK soil. Expectations weren’t high. Mainly fuelled by what I consider to be an invasive, mean spirited documentary which was shown the day before the performance. While I take on board Brother Joss’s observations that there were two glimpses of the real Rok in there, the rest is a mess which I consider to be disrespectful. If you’re not familiar with the background then you’re just gonna think it’s more disfunction. But anyways, Clinic opened up (did you see what I did there?) and I lasted a couple of songs. The sound at that point sucked and the band was perfunctory.
Time to go back to the bar and see a few more familiar faces from across the years, man that was a blast! The show itself was pretty overwhelming and I’ve read a couple of very lukewarm reviews that must have been written out on the Terrace bar. They certainly didn’t reflect what I, and everyone else I spoke to, thought. It was very emotional and “Starry Eyes” turned me to mush. To see this bright, beaming character on stage was a revelation. The suspected train wreck never happened and the audience was great. They never sat and looked at their phones and gabbed through the set. When was the last time that happened? Where are these people all the rest of the time?? If this was humankind then I’d go out more. “Creature”, “Bloody Hammer”, “Night of the Vampire”, “Zombie”. I never ever thought I’d see these performed. Roky is my Brian Wilson and “Teo”, the album H brought to CBS is my “Pet Sounds”. The band was great too and they provide a great spiritual ballast to him. The fact that he can do this is an example of the closest thing to a miracle that I’ve ever seen. And it didn’t end there.
Meeting Bill Allerton, (the man behind the fine Stand Out Record Emporium situated on the RH side of 2 Blenheim Crescent in the capital) in the bar afterwards he said he had a spare aftershow pass. And would I like to have it. The gods were smiling on me longer that day than I was ever used to. To be honest, I was wary. A hundred “what if’s” flooded my mind but “what the fuck” pulled rank and I was soon scuttling off backstage. When I got around there it was deserted but a very helpful French lady directed me to the 5th floor where sure enough, there he was. I got to shake his hand and I told him that it would be great if he could come to Scotland. I asked him if he remembered Howard and he said he did. “Say Hi to him for me” he beamed. Now, if you want to believe that story you can but it all seems kinda like a very cool dream to me. When I made it back to the bar I was something of a gibbering wreck (nothing new there then I hear you wags gurn) but this was different. It was like meeting god without playing sabbaf at 78rpm. Young David was next to get the pass and he too met the great man who is so generous with his time. I’ll remember him this way always and hope it’s the first of many. It had been a magical Monday night. I doubt I’ll ever have another like it.
Tuesday and we head to see another old bud. Mike Mastrangelo at Sanctuary Records. During the walk there I spoke to H and he told me that it was Bill Allerton that was instrumental in him meeting Roky's management prior to the CBS period. Things had all gone full circle and I'll have another box of this kinda mysterious ways action. Anyway, I digress, Mike is the archivist there and his most recent release is “Da Blood Done Signed My Name” by The Gun Club. Mike used to run the GC fan club which was sorta based on the LOTC model. He was only wee then and the first time we actually met was when I was covering the Lyceum gig for Sounds some 20+ big ones ago.
So after that it’s a cheeky Guinness on the Chiswick High Road and off to Highbury for a rendez with Messrs Thompson and Thewlis. Our mission to catch Suicide play a tiny club show at The Buffalo Bar as a warm-up to the Grinderman gig the following evening. As a bonus we caught what must be the best soundcheck I ever saw. “Ghost Rider”, “Che” and “Girl” in front of maybe 10 people. Seems like we were blessed. These two guys always were and will always be several leagues ahead of everything. What they do always comes directly from the gut. It seems like the only way. Electronic music can have soul and they mapped and continue to develop the form outside of conventional wisdom. During the actual show which is more of an event than a gig, I managed to burrow almost to the front for “Frankie Teardrop”. The crisp, clear shards of the sound that was evident at the soundcheck was being absorbed by the weave of bodies that formed a solid mass in the tiny venue. It wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t meant to be.
It was a Saturday to Tuesday that’ll keep them there dreams smouldering for a wee while longer. The music of true originals and the company of damn nice people, that’s something we could all do with a little more of.
So I head south to catch some of my favourite artists of all time, people who have shaped my existence and provided the soundtrack to it. And also to hang out with old, and newer, dear friends. Three shows over four days and several pints of Guinness later I’m back and trying to figure what just happened. Could it have been real? Well let’s try and recap… you guys be Melfi.
Let’s leave the shortcomings of the transport system be and cut straight to Part One, a free show by Alan Vega at The Roundhouse. A place I hadn’t been since I saw The Dictators open for a bunch of hippie bandwagoners in November of 77. Driving into Camden, we went past CSM. The man who has been providing that authoritative “Seven Ages of Bollocks” rock knowledge this past few weeks courtesy of the BBC. No punch up the hooter is forthcoming because, well, what if we couldn’t get in?
It was timely to just walk in as the lights were going down for the inaugural STATION broadcast to begin. With a successful ATP appearance in the bag back in May, anticipation was high. As Alan prowled the stage, Liz conjured up the dense techno demos from the contraption that is part Dr Who prop/part theremin as designed by IBM. The man who does the best “uh huh huh” this side of Sun Elvis was delivering his manifesto. At a couple of points, Alan and Liz’s son Dante also took the stage. It’s a family affair... Somebody handed him a “no smoking” sign during the performance. This was momentarily brandished and despatched even quicker. A special law will have to be passed so that Alan Vega has dispensation to smoke wherever the heck he likes. Don’t these people have any idea who he is?
Sunday is generally considered to be a day of rest and this can take many forms. This one meant meeting Bigor and Viva and hitting a bar called “The Gun”. They’d come from Ljubljana to pay respect to the man who would be playing his first UK show ever the very next day. He’d (always) been here before when the CBS album came out but only for press. Our Slovenian friends were familiar with this part of London. I’d ever been down there before but it’s like another world. A whole new outpost of culture, very little of which felt much like being in England. The music at Café 1001 might have sucked but the vibe was happening. We ended up in a Punjabi restaurant called Tayyabs which was just plain great. Way different to that type of food in this part of the world. If you’re down London way then it’s well worth getting off the beaten path for. I had a ball down there. When I was leaving the underground station to walk from Hammersmith to Chiswick it started to piss with rain but this was one waterproof parade, the ideal night for a wander around the edge of the Thames.
Monday kicked off with meeting Howard at the hotel. He’s been at the coal face of the Suicide phenom since he worked with Bronze Records thirty years ago. Consequently, coincidentally, whatever way you wanna call it, three of the acts he signed back yonder have shows in London over the weekend. Four if you want to include Dean and Britta and factor in Luna. First was Motorhead who kicked off Meltdown on Saturday. Some smart folks had the presence of mind to cut to the AV show straight after. That’s initiative in action right there. H is also responsible for the CBS Roky album that would provide the centrepiece material for the RFH show later that evening. Much as I love “You’re Gonna Miss Me”, it’s no “Bloody Hammer”. Anyway that’s a helluva cv. Maybe none of those acts sold a gazillion records but their influence on all manner of culture is impossible to measure. If there’s a pigeonhole marked “classic rock’n’roll” the I guess you could put the blame on H. Man, it was great to catch up. He showed me a copy of a flyer for the upcoming Suicide wreckrospective that was from 1971, and it mentioned “punk”. Alan and Martin were presented with a Mojo award that evening and there will be a major feature in the magazine, I think in the August issue.
We’re talking pioneers here. People who forged something out of seemingly nothing to touch history. While H and the Frankies were whooping it up at “The Brewery” with Alice Cooper and Ron Asheton (who incidentally LOVES “Cake”) I was living it large at the RFH, the scene of Roky Erickson’s first ever performance on UK soil. Expectations weren’t high. Mainly fuelled by what I consider to be an invasive, mean spirited documentary which was shown the day before the performance. While I take on board Brother Joss’s observations that there were two glimpses of the real Rok in there, the rest is a mess which I consider to be disrespectful. If you’re not familiar with the background then you’re just gonna think it’s more disfunction. But anyways, Clinic opened up (did you see what I did there?) and I lasted a couple of songs. The sound at that point sucked and the band was perfunctory.
Time to go back to the bar and see a few more familiar faces from across the years, man that was a blast! The show itself was pretty overwhelming and I’ve read a couple of very lukewarm reviews that must have been written out on the Terrace bar. They certainly didn’t reflect what I, and everyone else I spoke to, thought. It was very emotional and “Starry Eyes” turned me to mush. To see this bright, beaming character on stage was a revelation. The suspected train wreck never happened and the audience was great. They never sat and looked at their phones and gabbed through the set. When was the last time that happened? Where are these people all the rest of the time?? If this was humankind then I’d go out more. “Creature”, “Bloody Hammer”, “Night of the Vampire”, “Zombie”. I never ever thought I’d see these performed. Roky is my Brian Wilson and “Teo”, the album H brought to CBS is my “Pet Sounds”. The band was great too and they provide a great spiritual ballast to him. The fact that he can do this is an example of the closest thing to a miracle that I’ve ever seen. And it didn’t end there.Meeting Bill Allerton, (the man behind the fine Stand Out Record Emporium situated on the RH side of 2 Blenheim Crescent in the capital) in the bar afterwards he said he had a spare aftershow pass. And would I like to have it. The gods were smiling on me longer that day than I was ever used to. To be honest, I was wary. A hundred “what if’s” flooded my mind but “what the fuck” pulled rank and I was soon scuttling off backstage. When I got around there it was deserted but a very helpful French lady directed me to the 5th floor where sure enough, there he was. I got to shake his hand and I told him that it would be great if he could come to Scotland. I asked him if he remembered Howard and he said he did. “Say Hi to him for me” he beamed. Now, if you want to believe that story you can but it all seems kinda like a very cool dream to me. When I made it back to the bar I was something of a gibbering wreck (nothing new there then I hear you wags gurn) but this was different. It was like meeting god without playing sabbaf at 78rpm. Young David was next to get the pass and he too met the great man who is so generous with his time. I’ll remember him this way always and hope it’s the first of many. It had been a magical Monday night. I doubt I’ll ever have another like it.
Tuesday and we head to see another old bud. Mike Mastrangelo at Sanctuary Records. During the walk there I spoke to H and he told me that it was Bill Allerton that was instrumental in him meeting Roky's management prior to the CBS period. Things had all gone full circle and I'll have another box of this kinda mysterious ways action. Anyway, I digress, Mike is the archivist there and his most recent release is “Da Blood Done Signed My Name” by The Gun Club. Mike used to run the GC fan club which was sorta based on the LOTC model. He was only wee then and the first time we actually met was when I was covering the Lyceum gig for Sounds some 20+ big ones ago.
So after that it’s a cheeky Guinness on the Chiswick High Road and off to Highbury for a rendez with Messrs Thompson and Thewlis. Our mission to catch Suicide play a tiny club show at The Buffalo Bar as a warm-up to the Grinderman gig the following evening. As a bonus we caught what must be the best soundcheck I ever saw. “Ghost Rider”, “Che” and “Girl” in front of maybe 10 people. Seems like we were blessed. These two guys always were and will always be several leagues ahead of everything. What they do always comes directly from the gut. It seems like the only way. Electronic music can have soul and they mapped and continue to develop the form outside of conventional wisdom. During the actual show which is more of an event than a gig, I managed to burrow almost to the front for “Frankie Teardrop”. The crisp, clear shards of the sound that was evident at the soundcheck was being absorbed by the weave of bodies that formed a solid mass in the tiny venue. It wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t meant to be.
It was a Saturday to Tuesday that’ll keep them there dreams smouldering for a wee while longer. The music of true originals and the company of damn nice people, that’s something we could all do with a little more of.
Brother Patrick reporting from the front line...Jay Reatard live in Paris, Point Éphémère 16/6/2007
Le Point Ephemre is a great place for shows that used to be the docks, next to the Seine. That was the scene of the Born Badfest with Jay Reatard, backed by the Boston Chinks, the Magnetix & Deche Dans face.
Deche Dans Face (recent album is on Sub Pop) is a duo from Bordeaux composed of Pludwinski (Flytrap) and Dechmman (Soledad Brothers). They opened the evening’s entertainment with a garage punk lo-fi degenerate primitive blues (sort of) show. Some great tunes like “Zuzu (the motherfuckin’ dog)” and the Stones “Little By Little” but also a few boring, too long songs.
Then came another duo, the fantastic Magnetix: Looch Vibrato on guitar / vocals and Aggy Sanora on drums. Close your eyes and you’ll bet that should be at least 5 people on stage to make this much “noise” but it’s all down to an (athletic) guy and a (sexy) girl. All of their songs are catchy, fun, melodic and energetic. Magnetix are the best current French garage band, like a cross between Link Wray and the Gories. They have a bunch of singles and are just about to put out an album on Born Bad records.
Then came a short, brilliant set by the Boston Chinks who have a a great EP out on Goner. They opened for Jay on the other dates of this European tour.
3 out of the 4 BC’s (exit Mr bassman) came back a few seconds later to back Jay who is also the frontman of the Reatards, Lost Sounds and collaborator with countless other acts.
I’ve been a devotee since his Goner debut in 1997. “You Ain’t No Fun No Mo”, made when he was 17 is the wildest song I heard since Mad Mike & The Maniacs “The Hunch” and Ralph Nielsen & The Chancellors “Scream”. In that genre. His solo album “Blood Vision”, with its Dwarves-ish cover is great. The songs / voice / high energy melodies. 4 singles have been released on 4 different labels and these are even better. More Devo oriented which may be the reason why some critics say that it’s new wave. Is “Blockhead” by Devo new wave ? If it is then ok, so I love new wave (but I didn’t know !) It was a short intense set (20 minutes, 10 songs). Jay is a kind of Jonathan Richman, in that, like Jojo, he gives his all. Mere words can’t describe the passion of this guy on stage. There are gigs coming up in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Italy & the Netherlands before they fly home to the USA. Check the schedule…
If you've a hankering for hillbilly music, dear friend, then why not join Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. at Hank's Saloon this Saturday for a hearty helping of just that? Or come to Hank's merely because you like dive bars, loud music and cheap beer in a can. Either way. The details... SATURDAY, JUNE 23rd / HANK'S SALOON /46 Third Avenue (at the corner of Atlantic Ave.) in Brooklyn /No cover! /11:00 -- Johnny Carlevale & His Band Of All-Stars
10:00 -- Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
9:00 -- The Wrong Reasons,
And, for your more refined tastes...
THURSDAY, JUNE 28th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD / (Our last Otto's show until August 30th!) /538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / Two big & bawdy shows, from 8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 /No cover! /
Yours truly, Michael,
Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
"Ballads, Boogies & Blues"
There's a heap of information coming but it's taking a little longer to get back on the beam than expected. I'll try to assimilate all that as I gather my thoughts about London... got some rather bad news today also about an old compadre that's been somewhat sobering. That's been mulling around since Sandy sent me the link also. In such circumstances, blogging seems like a pretty futile exercise. Anyway, you'll be hearing from me and also Brother Patrick very soon. And now I have to go sort out a birthday present...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
OK, I'm back and while gathering my thoughts about the last couple of three days I heard something on the tail end of the news. It sounded familiar but was done before I could see what it was. Then I fire up my e-mail and find the culprit in the latest missive from Bob Lefsetz. Those who haven't seen the final episode of The Sopranos maybe shouldn't view it but it's a shrewd shtick and no mistake.
Not sure if I have the will to ramble tonight but we'll see...
As I type, Suicide will be onstage opening for Grinderman. They'll also perform two songs, one of which is "Harlem" with Cave and co. The Frankies have it!
Not sure if I have the will to ramble tonight but we'll see...
As I type, Suicide will be onstage opening for Grinderman. They'll also perform two songs, one of which is "Harlem" with Cave and co. The Frankies have it!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Those of you who missed Little Steven's BBC Radio 2 documentary about "Louie Louie" the other night can catch an archived copy for the next few days. You gotta go to...Louie And The G-Men.
On the fiftieth anniversary of its release, Steve Van Zandt tells how a song survived the wrath of J Edgar Hoover’s FBI to become one of the most performed, recorded and influential of all time.
On the fiftieth anniversary of its release, Steve Van Zandt tells how a song survived the wrath of J Edgar Hoover’s FBI to become one of the most performed, recorded and influential of all time.
Friday, June 15, 2007
In a somewhat misguided attempt to promote the large recordfairs that are helt in Utrecht twice a year, I've seen this city billed as "the vinyl capitol of the world". While this might be true enough four six days a year, the other 350 paint a rather different picture (no offence boys) Anyway, it's cool that right here in the year of our lord double 0 7, we've still got two tiny DIY set-ups that concentrate on puttin' out nothin' but 45s over here. A Fistful Of Records have been mentioned before in these, er, pages. Their latest is fine three tracker by Australia's Kamikaze Trio, who take on the Gun Club's Death Party in fine style, 
but really nail it on their own My Demons. Think of a punkier Scientists and your halfway there. The Platenclub Utrecht are dedicated to locatin' and releasin' previously unreleased Dutch beat and they've build up a small but solid roster over the years. Their most recent disc is by The Stylets from Roosendaal, a band that never had any records out in their day. Come To Me is a fantastic discovery that could easily fit on one of those "teen trauma"-type garage comps, crude sounds 'n all. While the flip is a Pretties styled take on High Heel Sneakers. Both records are well worth your while, so go bug these people for orderring info, and tell 'em who send ya...
Thursday, June 14, 2007
A limited 45 (500 copies only in fetching clear vinyl) by 1990s and The Royal We paying tribute to Postcard Records is available now from Monorail Music and Hitherto in Glasgow. It's all DIY-mungous and comes in a hand folded, screened wrap. No two the same. Struck to mark the Six Cities event, it's £4.99 (plus postage) a pop fromdep@monorailmusic.com or Hitherto
You can see the process at the events section of the Hitherto site.
Also, coming up in Edinburgh during the Festival in August... Hamell on Trial and the David Lynch Documentary
More about those later though, there are chores to be completed and the flesh is weak.Wednesday, June 13, 2007
PUNK Magazine is Back!!! Again and Again!!!This new issue (#21) is (by reader request) a final tribute to everybody's favorite punk rock hangout: CBGB. It contains several interviews with people you might (and might not) expect to see in PUNK: Richard Lloyd, Lenny Kaye, H.R. (Bad Brains), Jayne County, Bobby Steele, Harley Flanagan, Alan Vega, Pete Koller, Roberta Bayley, Godlis, Jed Davis, Tibbie X and others. Plus we got exclusive photos of the Ramones, Bad Brains, Television, the Patti Smith Group, the Dead Boys, Blondie, Talking Heads, Destroy All Monsters, LES Stitches, Lester Bangs (with Birdland), The Jam, Suicide, the Cramps, Helen Wheels, James Chance, The Fall, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Nico, the Magic Tramps, Hilly Kristal and even some early CBGB graffiti. Plus we got some comic strips by Steve Taylor, Bruce Carleton, Rick Trembles and Avi Spivak. And just wait until you see what Robert Romagnoli did in this issue...
Brett Callwood - Sonically Speaking (impbooks) 
Pretty much the same reservations I have about the Television book (reviewed below) can be lined up again when it comes to this new MC5 biography. The story is there, and pretty much accurate as far as I can tell, but again there's no heart and a serious lack of new insights. Callwood did talk to most of the surviving participants and the thing actually has some weight to it (as opposed to the magazine sized TV book) But nothing in here comes close to the kind of excitement generated by the A True Testimonial film. The author keeps his distance, seems to be afraid to step on people's toes and lacks the perspective to do the job right (he came to the band relatively late and writes for metal and musicians mags) The Testimonial disaster gets glossed over, even tho' it's probably the only thing able to (re-)affirm the band's importance to future generations.
Again there's the "selected discography", and coupled to the fact that there's no index it doesn't even work as a reference guide.
I don't wanna slag this off entirely 'cause it's not that bad, but anybody who has seen the film knows that there's a real story here; inspirational, glorious, tragic, but hardly ever does that come across in the pages of this book...
Pretty much the same reservations I have about the Television book (reviewed below) can be lined up again when it comes to this new MC5 biography. The story is there, and pretty much accurate as far as I can tell, but again there's no heart and a serious lack of new insights. Callwood did talk to most of the surviving participants and the thing actually has some weight to it (as opposed to the magazine sized TV book) But nothing in here comes close to the kind of excitement generated by the A True Testimonial film. The author keeps his distance, seems to be afraid to step on people's toes and lacks the perspective to do the job right (he came to the band relatively late and writes for metal and musicians mags) The Testimonial disaster gets glossed over, even tho' it's probably the only thing able to (re-)affirm the band's importance to future generations.
Again there's the "selected discography", and coupled to the fact that there's no index it doesn't even work as a reference guide.
I don't wanna slag this off entirely 'cause it's not that bad, but anybody who has seen the film knows that there's a real story here; inspirational, glorious, tragic, but hardly ever does that come across in the pages of this book...
the last detailhal ashby, usa, 1973, 103 mins.
sunday 17th june, 7.30pm
stuart murdoch of belle & sebastian will present hal ashby's the last detail as part of the monorail film club's 'series of important film' or 'cinema we want to see' which takes place this sunday, 17th june at 7.30 pm in the gft, rose street, glasgow. the last detail from 1972 is part of what has been termed 'the new hollywood', which presented an unbeautiful american experience or america coming down cf. the last picture show, the french connection and taxi driver.
starring jack nicholson and randy quaid, in the uk it has hardly ever been seen, even on late-night television, mainly due to its full-on language. according to murdoch it contains no excessive swearing whatsoever. bring it on.
www.gft.org.co.uk
www.myspace.com/monorail_film_club
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
So I've come around to the way that The Sopranos ended and feel a little more comfortable with it after a second viewing. Don't want to give anything away here because I know that there are hardcore aficionados that read this who haven't seen it. There are enough day to day spoilers in life without anybody futzing with your favourite TV show, correct? Will there ever be a TV drama that even comes close to this ever again? Possibly not. Everything came together, the music, the writing, the humour, the reality. Being that yon commodity is somewhat homogenised these days, what went down in those 55 minutes per season actually appropriated real life. Which as we know these days, is as far removed from reality as Mars is. Quite possibly several light years further. "Oh the movie never ends. It goes on and on and on and on..."
Monday, June 11, 2007
Tim Mitchell - Sonic Transmission (Glitter Books) 
A book on the history of Television is something this world could well use, 'cause bein' one of the finest bands to emerge in the 70s their tale is still seriously under-documented. So it's just too bad that Tim Mitchell's attempt is just that, an attempt.
With no direct info from the main players Mitchell has to make do with quotes from other people's work. Sure, the general outline is there, and the author seems to know his stuff by and large, but in the end this book is in serious need of a heart and/or vision, as the text fails to ignite the kind of excitement the book's subject was able to. Besides, overlookin' the release of Little Johnny Jewel is inexcusable, and statin' that Andy Johns produced Goats Head Soup is plain ol' ignorant.
The book claims to be an "illustrated history", but all you get is a handful of gray record/CD sleeve reproductions. Did I mention the "selected discography"? If you wanna know about Television, you'll have to listen to at least a dozen versions of Marquee Moon and Little Johnny Jewel as documented on a pletora of bootlegs to get a sense of the band's mighty improvisational skills, and a guide to these recordings would have been very useful.
Like his book on Jonathan Richman, this is comes in handy, but only until the real thing comes along...
A book on the history of Television is something this world could well use, 'cause bein' one of the finest bands to emerge in the 70s their tale is still seriously under-documented. So it's just too bad that Tim Mitchell's attempt is just that, an attempt.
With no direct info from the main players Mitchell has to make do with quotes from other people's work. Sure, the general outline is there, and the author seems to know his stuff by and large, but in the end this book is in serious need of a heart and/or vision, as the text fails to ignite the kind of excitement the book's subject was able to. Besides, overlookin' the release of Little Johnny Jewel is inexcusable, and statin' that Andy Johns produced Goats Head Soup is plain ol' ignorant.
The book claims to be an "illustrated history", but all you get is a handful of gray record/CD sleeve reproductions. Did I mention the "selected discography"? If you wanna know about Television, you'll have to listen to at least a dozen versions of Marquee Moon and Little Johnny Jewel as documented on a pletora of bootlegs to get a sense of the band's mighty improvisational skills, and a guide to these recordings would have been very useful.
Like his book on Jonathan Richman, this is comes in handy, but only until the real thing comes along...
What's that? You say you've been looking for more mid-week, mid-evening, midtown Manhattan amusement? Okay, so we didn't say it either. Yet, Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. still cordially invites you to join us this Wednesday, June 13th, downstairs at Spanky's BBQ in Times Square for an evening of "ballads, boogies & blues" and all the fixins' -- whether that be merely a cold beer or a full-on barbecued feast. And we'll be joined in the cozy, countrified confines of Spanky's by our special guest singer Rosalie Morris!
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH / DOWNSTAIRS
@ SPANKY'S BBQ / FREE! /
127 West 43rd Street (between Broadway & 6th Avenue), NYC / One hour show at 7:30 sharp,
followed by the Rob Ryan Band /
Yours truly, Michael
Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
"Ballads, Boogies & Blues"
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