RIP – Marty Thau

While I was aware that Marty wasn’t firing on all cylinders, the news came as a shock.

I don’t or shouldn’t have to explain who he is to anyone stopping around here. Needless as it is to speculate that if it hadn’t been for him, many of our favourite acts wouldn’t have made the transition to any kind of platform. No New York Dolls pun intended. If you do need basic facts then google him or better yet, wait for his memoir to be published in order to get the finer detail from the horse’s mouth.

In addition to all of that, for me, it was Marty’s involvement in NY rock that was responsible for two enduring life-long friendships with Miriam Linna and Howard Thompson. Strangely, in a series of full circle events that have come my way recently - the 3 of us were together again during my last day in NY as January drew to a close. I liken it to a kind of “It’s A Wonderful Life” scenario in retrospect. Had Miriam not worked at Red Star and passed the Simple Minds demo to Howard then my existence would be almost certainly way different. And Jim Kerr certainly wouldn’t have been wearing the label logo badge on the rear of the “Life In A Day” album cover.

Last time I actually saw MT was in Kassel, Germany. We were attending a Punk Rock Congress (with a K) where at one point there was Marty with Teresa (Randolph Ott), Andy Shernoff, Cheetah Chrome and me watching The Boonaraaas!!! In Lolita Bar. The event was also the only place where Rocket From The Tombs ever played in Europe. Since that hootenanny in 2003, we were in regular contact.

Marty reactivated Red Star as a digital imprint and was slowly building up a wee catalogue that included recent music by Lola Dutronic and Jeremy Gluck. Another aspect of all this is that I would never have been able to supply a first generation cassette copy of the Fleshtones "Blast Off" for the Get Hip release with bonus track had it not been for HT having sent me a copy of that around the time that it really should have been released.

The Chairman was a guy that could polarise opinion, a guy who, like many of us, would cut off his nose to spite his face. The older one gets, the more likely one is to be considered contrary. We disagreed on several things now and again but we only really ever had one real falling out that was cleared up pretty quick when we agreed to differ.

So let’s wind out with those Fleshtones who not only “Remember The Ramones” in this succinct reminder of the times when MT was the king of the Lower East Side and the noise that the kids of all ages were making down there.

Raise a Rémy Martin to the guy without whom there may well have been no Ramones, no Blondie and no Suicide to actually remember.

The world will not be a better place for the loss of his cantankerous charm. It was a privilege to have been able to call him a friend and I’ll miss the e-mail chats we had in recent times when he was burning the way after midnight oil due to his condition. There was plenty for a couple of old grouches to grumble about without getting into health shortcomings.

We’ve lost another true character.

My condolences to Teresa, his family and friends at this time, another wretched reminder that time is slipping away from all of us.

The kids are tearing it up in Italy but you can get their latest hit - download only for now - penned by Kurt Baker at CD Baby now! Virtual sleeve art pic by the fab-tastic Blanca Velasco Navarro, snapped in La Alegría, Madrid last October.

RIP - The Mighty Hannibal

Typical. The Johnny Moped doc is playing the Monorail Film Club this Sunday (26th) and I'm not around.

RIP - Freddie Fingers Lee

RIP - Alexandra Bastedo

TAV FALCO'S PANTHER BURNS / THE PRIMEVALS / THE REVERSE COWGIRLS

at Broadcast in Glasgow on Sunday 9th February 2014.

New to me and damn good. Primitive Hearts... (Thanks Kjetil)

Thanks Nick. For the duration of this, I forgot about the prospect of returning to the salt mine tomorrow.

Any plans I had for activity during the stupid season were not to be. There are a number of reasons for this. In addition, I could well be over this blogging malarkey. What I need to pursue at this point is what to do with the rest of my existence. That's a much bigger question/picture/whatever you care to call it.

So I hope you survive this one and many more. The premise of the expression "happy" is all well and good but actual reality - not the scripted kind from TV - more likely has other ideas. Isn't that just the name of a dwarf anyway?

Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co., and here's hoping yours is both merry and bright.  Ho, ho, ho!

*THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD /
It's a Boxing Day special at the always festive Otto's! / 538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / 8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 / No cover charge or tithing required  

*WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 8th / RODEO BAR /
Our monthly Rodeo residency continues into 2014! / 375 Third Avenue (at the corner of 27th Street) in Manhattan / Three bell ringing sets, from 9:00 sharp 'til midnight, with no cover

Seasonally yours,
Michael, Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
"Ballads, Boogies & Blues"

As I may have said in the past, I have no real problem with Christmas in general. It’s just all the extraneous gubbins that it’s come to embody that I can’t abide. Each to their own, but the less I have to deal with then the better it is for everyone. I’m luckier than most in that respect because I just retire to the bunker and that’s pretty much what is on the cards.

“New year” is never that. And the hale fellow well met, hollow greetings that surround it further stick in this particular craw. Of course, one wants their friends and family – often the same thing – to enjoy some kind of gratification ALL the time. Not just for a couple of commercialised up the wazoo weeks a year. This year, I’m stuck in the salt mine until 1.30pm on Christmas Eve. Them’s the breaks. It comes with the territory and as the clock creaks toward that finishing line, it can’t come quick enough. As bah humbuggers go, I’m pretty set in my ways but there will be good times had over the course. I get to see some folks that I get way too little of and will undoubtedly communicate with many other from here in the confines of base camp. There may even be some proper blogging here and there but no end or best of the year lists. There are already plenty of those doing the rounds.

So – do whatever it is you need to do to make it through the bunfight. May your days and nights be merry and bright. The polar opposite of something that rhymes with that last word.

This latest palaver with being asked at the post office what is in the packages you’re sending is getting right up my humph.

They’re only following orders but really, if someone is putting something iffy in there – would they tell the truth about the contents? Er, perhaps not on your nelly - divot postal wallah that came up with this particular annoyance. So with the advent of the ongoing price hikes and this most recent invasion of privacy, I’m pretty close to stopping sending stuff out. And I should stop ordering stuff too because I’ve no room for it so maybe it’ll be like stopping smoking or something. Perhaps I’ll save myself some money if I could discipline myself to follow through with all this. As much as I'd like to start unloading "the archive", this further makes it seem unlikely.

Me no' big on interrogation. If someone starts trying to get something out of me that I don’t want to tell then the hackles go right up. Bloody jaggy they are too. I don’t actually want to divulge what is in what I’m sending. Customs labels are bad enough. It spills the beans for the recipient and it could spoil the surprise. I'm trying to figure out who I can harangue about this. No point in giving the counter staff both barrels. Not all of them anyway.