You Can't Get It On DVD-Blue Collar

Paul Schrader’s Blue Collar, a 1978 film about down on their luck autoworkers and corrupt unions, has gotten lost amid all of the writer/director’s other efforts (Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, Affliction, Hardcore, The Comfort of Strangers, etc.). Like Schrader’s other films, Blue Collar is lucid, powerful and depressing--almost too “real” for its own good. We all know work sucks, but in Blue Collar, it's soul-battering and ugly. The bosses at a Checker Cab plant in Detroit treat workers like dirt; their union doesn’t help them much, either. But money woes are the straw that breaks the camel’s back for the film’s protagonists--Jerry (Harvey Keitel) needs to buy his daughter braces , Zeke (Richard Pryor) is in trouble with the IRS, and Smokey (Yaphet Kotto) owes money to a loan shark. Pryor gives a riveting performance as opinionated loudmouth Zeke. He tells off his union rep about a broken locker and that comment snowballs into a scheme that gets the three friends in serious trouble. During a night hanging out with prostitutes at Smokey’s pad, they concoct a plan to steal money from the local union headquarters. The burglary scores only a few hundred dollars but the friends find an incriminating ledger full of high interest loans the union has made. The auto union announces the theft, claiming the amount stolen as $10,000 to collect on insurance. The trio attempts to blackmail union officials, but they’re ill-prepared for the Machiavellian twists and turns that come next. They find themselves caught in a web of pissed off FBI agents, union reps and police. What began as a simple theft turns into a deadly game that turns the friends’ lives upside down and pits them against each other in a every man for himself scenario. Zeke’s the only one who survives the web of deceit by turning into the type of person he detested at the beginning of the film. The film got good reviews, but languished at the box office. Richard Pryor’s star turn confused some people. In the late 1970s, Pryor was at the top of his game as a comedian, and a major dramatic role in a downbeat film didn’t fit in with his irreverent stand-up persona. A few moviegoers probably walked into the theater expecting a foul-mouthed comedy and got a morality tale filled with dirty words instead. Blue Collar boasts solid performances and a script that may be too heavy-handed for some tastes. Screenwriter Paul Schrader also directed this film, and he has said in interviews that the film’s stars fought behind the scenes during production, and Schrader himself seems to have disavowed the film. It was released on DVD by Anchor Bay in 2000, but has been “discontinued by the manufacturer”, according to Amazon.com. Why it’s currently unavailable on DVD is anybody’s guess. Ownership issues? Too controversial? Lackluster sales? 

"Honey, Doggone It, I Depend Upon It.."

Robin McNamara’s catchy bubblegum tune “Lay a Little Lovin'On Me” was a Top 20 hit in 1970. Dig his tunic, bellbottoms and long flowing locks in this clip from a local TV show in Cleveland. “GET THE GIRLS SINGIN”







Robin plays the oldies circuit from time to time. Visit his official site here.

Cynthia Plaster Caster Interview

Cynthia in the early 1970s

This interview originally appeared on Rock Confidential.com in March 2004. 

The term “groupie” is now part of the American lexicon. When it’s even  included in Microsoft’s spellcheck, you know it’s legit. Cynthia Plaster Caster, along with her partner, Diane, achieved lasting infamy as “The Plaster Casters of Chicago”, known for their inventive modus operandi of casting rock stars’ cocks in alginate and preserving the sculptures for posterity. Unlike most of today’s groupies, Cynthia has more to show for her hard work than a possible quickie marriage and sticky divorce. She affectionately refers to her plaster casts as her “babies” and her works have been featured in several art exhibits. Cynthia, like her friend and fellow ex-groupie /current writer Pamela Des Barres, is a pop culture icon. An amiable and engaging interviewee, Cynthia is currently involved in a myriad of projects, including her non-profit organization, CynthiaPCaster.org, her personal website, CynthiaPlasterCaster.com, and she's still casting in her home town of Chicago.

Origins

JB- How did you come up with the idea for your artistic endeavor, the plaster casts? I read that it was originally for a college art project.

CPC- Umm, I never planned to make a living out of it or have it be what it turned into. I was just trying to get laid.

JB- That’s how a lot of people start their careers.

CPC- You know that’s true. It's certainly how rock stars start their careers. It was an art project that gave me the idea gave me a way of starting up a conversation with Paul Revere and the Raiders about their penises. What I was looking for was an excuse to talk about it. You know when the subject would arise then maybe something else would rise! That would be responsible for the seduction because I just wasn’t capable of it. I was too shy and dorky. And that’s what did happen. I didn’t make a plaster cast. I just got laid.


JB - What was the first rock band you met?

CPC- The Rolling Stones, in 1964 when they were recording 12 by 5 in Chicago. They were practically unknown in America.

JB - What was it like meeting them?

CPC- That’s really what got me going in the groupie groove or wanna be groupie groove. It was so easy. The way I did it was I figured out what hotel they were staying at and showed up at the hotel and stood outside with maybe 4 or 5 other girls and waited for them to arrive and there they were in the flesh, walking. I couldn’t believe it. They were in a taxi; they didn’t even have a limo then.

JB - I bet it was easier to met rock stars in the ‘60s and early ‘70s.

CPC- It only was easy in the first few months. Then the girls just kept multiplying. That’s what made me realize that I have a lot of stiff competition here and I’ve got to make myself stand out from the other girls. There are 25 girls standing at this guy’s hotel room door. These are 25 girls that managed to get past all the security. You have to think of something and in my case it had to be goofy.

JB- But it worked! Didn’t you have a business card that you showed the guys?

CPC- That was all part of the goofy shtick. I thought it would be funny if we were traveling sales women with a suitcase full of materials none of which I knew how to use.

JB-Now tell me about your first plaster cast. Now who’s job was it to get the guy "excited?" Was that your job?

CPC- At that point, in the beginning when I got the idea for the art project there was no designated plater. (That’s what I call the fluffer.) There was no designated anything. We were just 2 girls that were running around trying to get laid. As we had a few experiences with bands figuring out how to cast them, we decided to designate roles and because I learned how to mix the mold, I would be the mold mixer. It was too expensive for me to also try to teach somebody to be a mold mixer and my girlfriend Diane at that time had developed a reputation for giving really good head. Automatically, it was logical that she should be the plater. And I hardly ever got laid as a result via plaster casting until later, ironically.

JB -You were to busy mixing the mold, doing the actual casting work.

CPC- It’s really a good idea that there be two girls or two people working on it. I’ve tried double roles if I’ve had the hots for somebody and they had the hots for me, but it’s really not a good idea for the plaster cast.

Jimi Hendrix

Jimi Hendrix’s cast was an unbelievable dream come true. It was their first time in Chicago and they were just the hottest band around. We went to the hotel, (me and Diane and my friend Marilyn, who’d never seen a dick before. She (Marilyn) later became a born-again Christian.)
We even rode the elevator with them instead of climbing the fire escape like we usually did. Like everything went pretty right. I had the hots for Noel Redding who I really wanted to be with, so I cast Jimi and I had sex with Noel. It was a really memorable experience.

The Monkees

I tried to cast Peter during the time I had discovered dental mold and I didn’t know how to use it. Just as I was opening one the can--it was like an old-fashioned Planters’ Peanut type can-- I cut my finger on the edge and cut it so bad so bad it wouldn’t stop bleeding, and Mickey Dolenz had to tourniquet my middle finger. I should probably have gone to the hospital, but it all went well with the finger. No cast of Peter, though. I never really got to see what he was capable of. He really liked being naked. He was so cute-and he looked damn good!

Groupies Today

JB- A few months ago I reread Pamela’s book “I’m With The Band” and when I read about your experiences and Pamela’s it seems like so much fun. Nowadays for girls who want to be groupies there’s so much competition. Girls are having plastic surgery at 17 and it’s a whole different scene.

CPC- Yeah, you know what’s wrong with it? There also was competition and cutthroating in there too. My problem is that the girls nowadays don’t seem to be so much fans of the music the way a lot of us were back then.

JB- It seems that a lot of the groupies who wind up going off with the band members have never listened to a note of the guy’s music.

CPC- Yeah, there have always been starfuckers, but there are more now. I dunno- and I think (they are) fairly common types of girls. They are not very interesting people, with a few exceptions. Oddly enough, I think Winona Ryder and Courtney Love are the only two interesting super groupies around. There are all different ways to be groupies. There are what I call legitimate groupies.

JB- Like journalists? (OK, now you know. I confess!)

CPC- Exactly. Journalists. And wives of other members of certain bands. I’ve been around girls married to a band member and they’ll be hovering around somebody else in the band and claiming “I am not a groupie.”

JB- They’re probably the worst kind-the ones that won’t admit they’re groupies.
CPC- The ones that are in denial are always the worst ones. What is the problem with declaring yourself a groupie when you are one? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s what you are.

JB- Nothing is wrong with wanting to have sex with cute guys.

CPC- Exactly. What’s weird about that? The only people who criticize groupies are rock stars that are mad that they aren’t getting enough groupies or people that are jealous that they’re not groupies.

Tit Casts

The latest I’ve done belongs to Karen O. of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. She’s lovely, just an awesome performer. I’ve been doing that doing that for a couple years now. I’ve been doing more breasts than dicks lately. Kind of catching up for lost time. Girls are more willing to do it than guys, Girls know pretty much how they are going to come out and guys aren’t sure how they’re gonna stand up to Jimi Hendrix.

Zappa

JB- Have you had any gallery exhibits of your work?

The first one, which was captured in “Plaster Caster-The Documentary” happened in New York. in 2000 at Thread Waxing Space. It was one of the best days of my life. I just so wish that Frank Zappa was still alive because this is what he dreamed about for me, too.

JB-They’ll never be anyone else like him.

CPC- Not in our lifetime doll. Everything I do I dedicate to him.

JB-When did you first met Frank?

CPC- I met him in ’68. He was on tour with Cream. I was chasing Eric Clapton trying to get him to pose for us. Eric said “Oh yeah sure, I might do it, but I have a friend who might want to do it more..It’s Frank Zappa." Frank came over the next night to Eric’s hotel room, asking me and Diane some questions. Neither of them wanted to be cast. Frank was just really interested in what we did because he was writing this piece for Life Magazine about the new pop culture. And we told him what I was dreaming about-having an exhibit and I wrote diaries and I did drawings. He came back to Chicago and said, “I was thinking about what you do and I’d like to help you.” Frank was doing what I’d like to be doing with Cynthia P Caster.org. He wasn’t doing it in a not for profit way. He wanted to advance people money for whatever they wanted. He wanted his label to give people advances without having to worry about record contracts. It was a very ‘60s dream. Frank just wanted to help. I found out later his business partner had other ideas. (The business partner in question was Herb Cohen, who had temporary ownership of the casts and threatened to sell knock-offs of them as “Cocksicles.” Cynthia won a court judgment against him in 1994. -MM)

Plaster Caster-The Movie

JB- Tell me about the documentary “Plaster Caster” that came out a few
years ago.

CPC- It’s got a commercial release now. It made the film festival circuit for about a year and now its’ commercial release is on DVD. It came about when Jessica Villines, whose the director, vaguely knew me from the rock scene of Chicago. She and her mother, who was the executive producer, out of nowhere let me know that they wanted to make a documentary about me and they were willing to pay me a huge advance. That’s what sold me. It took Jessica and the editor Brian Johnson and director of photography Jeff Economy about 2 to 2 ½ years to put it all together. It’s weird walking around with a mic attached my butt all the time, but I got used to it. In fact, I really found I like being interviewed. They couldn’t stop me from talking!

Cynthia P. Caster Foundation

Our main investor, ironically, his name is Jason Pickleman. He was trying to help me sell casts and said “What do think of selling these casts on a not for profit level?" We thought that the people would help would be struggling artists and musicians like myself. I never thought I would be able to make money on any level doing what I’m doing. I come from a relatively poor background and I just know so many struggling ,creative talented people never see the light of day because they have no money. That tends to be my favorite kind of art and music.

My First Concert: The Rolling Stones at the Chicago Stadium, 1975

This article was first published on Suite101.com on January 3, 2004.

In my middle class, Catholic neighborhood circa 1975 it was impossible to find another 15 year old that idolized weirdos like the Rolling Stones enough to go to one of their concerts. Seriously, all my classmates were into Barry Manilow and the Captain and Tenille. Maybe they'd see America at Ravinia if they were feeling frisky. I'm not joking. I ended up going to the show with the 25 year old schoolteacher sister of one of my brothers' friends. She, of course, could not believe that someone had a spare ticket to see the Stones. By the way, the ticket cost nine fifty. That's nine dollars and fifty cents, not 950 dollars, which is what it probably costs now for a main floor seat to see the Stones.


An interesting tidbit about this concert involved one of the stage props, a large penis shaped balloon that sprang up from under the stage during the naughty classic "Star, Star" (aka "Starfucker"). Mick then proceeded to ride said balloon during the song. . Being young and very into seeing the concert and pissed off that I was going to watch the show from the mezzanine and not the front row, I bought a pair of binoculars especially for the event. When you're 15, its very important that you see and analyze every movement a performer makes in detail with your girlfriends later and giggle over it. You must remember Mick still looked presentable at that time, as it was the tail end of his eyeliner and makeup era.


There were no high-class super venues in the '70s with skyboxes and designer pizza at the concession stand. You were lucky to buy a T-shirt from a grizzled old hippie at a table by the box office. In those days, it was more likely you'd be accosted by some greasy kid outside the stadium selling bootleg T shirts for $5 apiece. The licensing police were non-existent in those days, so the counterfeiters did a brisk business.


Anyhow, the concert itself was great. Some pics of the '75 tour (though not specifically this show) are here.

Just shows you that the Stones did look pretty good once. And see? I wasn't lying about the prop either. I remember there was a mini-controversy about the band using the balloon penis in the Chicago Stadium. The powers that be were aghast at such a pornographic prospect. I'm not sure about the validity of this rumor. Can you imagine the conversation between Mayor Daley Sr. and the police commissioner?



"Mr. Mayor, they are transporting a lewd balloon between state lines."

"Lou? Lou's balloon? Who's Lou?"

In a teen-age girl's view, hair and clothing are very important. How the guitars were tuned and vocal modulation didn't matter too much. My diary noted the costume changes and dance moves, sort of a first foray into music journalism minus the music. It was great fun, though more of a personal experience. It's weird. It's kind of hard to imagine the Stones as young, i.e. to young for the early bird special at Denny's!! In the souvenir program I bought at the '75 show, Mick stated 'I'd rather be dead than sing "Satisfaction" when I'm 45." Time and the promise of Baby Boomers raking over big bucks changes everything. But I suppose if you looked back on interviews with most young rock stars they'd assume they'd be dead or retired to the ranch by 40. Seeing a guy in his 30s strut around is more realistic and sexier than a 60-year-old pretending to be 30. The latter can still be entertaining, as the Stones have proven, but the edge is gone. It's only rock 'n' roll, but as long as it makes money and sends the crowds home happy, we'll like it.



Star***-LA, 1975

Danseparc-Martha and the Muffins CD Review

Danseparc 25th Anniversary Edition
Martha & The Muffins
Cherry Red UK



Danesparc by Martha & the Muffins—or M & M, as they preferred to be called now is one of those quietly heralded new wave albums that misses most top of the decade lists, but remains a favorite with diehard music buffs. Martha and the Muffins gained fame with their frothy dance hit “Echo Beach”, but M & M’s founders, Mark Gane and Martha Johnson, had much more to offer as evidenced by the rich tapestry of horns, sound effects, layered vocals and percussion on Danescparc.

First released on vinyl in 1983, Danesparc remained out of print for years, but is now available in a digitally remastered 25th anniversary CD edition on Cherry Red Records, complete with lyric booklet and bonus live tracks

Martha and the Muffins first album, Metro Music, spawned “Echo Beach” and a world tour for this Toronto based band. Shortly after that trek ended, keyboardist Martha Ladley, bassist Carl Finkle and drummer Tim Gane left the group. New drummer Nick Kent and bassist Jocelyne Lanois revamped the Muffins with a more cerebral, cutting-edge playing. Jocelyne suggested her brother Daniel produce their 1981 album This Is The Ice Age and the rest is history. Daniel went on to produce such artist as Bob Dylan and Eno, but cut his teeth, admirably, on several Martha and the Muffins projects.

While the songwriting team of Johnson and Gane had expanded their experimental sound on This Is the Ice Age, Danesparc was their biggest critical success. It proved that Johnson and Gane were Canada’s version of New York post-punk hipsters-- minus the pretentiousness. M &M are more listener-friendly than David Byrne and more intellectual than Human Leauge.. In “Obedience” they pick at the intricacies and foibles of everyday life. This is Johnson’s baby as she she uses her voice as an instrument, using the word “repeat as a mantra against escalating tribal drums. It’s small but specific touches like this that give Danseparc its flavor.


The cover of Danesparc is a photo of a miniature park setting, all tiny trees and grass. While it looks like an aerial photo of a real park at first glance, it is actually a photo of a miniature park model once owned by Gane and Johnson. owned by Gane and Johnson. The park as a social setting provides subject matter and imagery for much of Danesparc. “Boys in the Bushes” was inspired (not surprisingly) by a trip to San Francisco and the extracurricular activities of its gay male residents.The dizzying tone of “Several Styles of Blonde Girls Dancing” marks its territory with jaunty percussion and Gane’s deadpan vocals, which disintegrate into growls at certain points in the song. Here, the wordplay (and the park theme) continues with lyrics like “a verdant park of small proportions underneath the sky/ the turtles eggs/the dancing suns/the things I can’t explain.” Each song on Danesparc unravels like a stream of consciousness dialouge describing everyday emotions set to a background of horns, hand claps and/or percussion.


The bonus tracks include a live performance of “Sins of the Children” and the dark dance synth of “These Dangerous Machines”, an eerie bit of rock disco that is best played with the lights off. For those who like discovering (or rediscovering) brilliant but often under publicized recordings of ‘80s post-punk and “new wave”, the remastered edition of Danesparc is one of the “lost” gems of that era.

Prima Donna-After Hours CD Review

In the early 70s, glam rock reigned because the guys were really cute, had long hair and sang about sex in a fun, non-threatening way. Some bands were racy, some were fun, & some were both, but they were always flashy and full of life. Glam rock encapsulated all the things that parents at that time hated about rock ‘n’ roll and tied it all together in a brazen, androgynous wink at ya way.

It's good to know some youngins’ are bringing sex and sass back into rock and roll. Take L.A.’s Prima Donna, for example. This quintet punks up old school glam ala early 70s Stones and Dolls. Their songs have a street smart vibe while retaining the glam influence, like an untrippy T-Rex.

After Hours, Prima Donna’s first release for Acetate Records, is 28 minutes of sleazy fun straight from the fave section of Star Groupie magazine. Frontman Kevin Preston preens and “owws” with the best of ‘em. And all the salient points of the rock lifestyle are addressed in songs like “I Don’t Want You To Love Me “(I don’t want you to love me/I don’t want you to care/I just want you to like it/when I lick you there”), the S & M lite of "Crucify", the “she’s a bitch” dis "Double Crosser", and the “I’m a bad boy’ boasts of "Stray Doll." Aaron Minton’s sax and keyboards distinguish the band from their peers, in the same way the sax parts made X-Ray Spex stand out during the first wave of punk.


Prima Donna have played shows around Southern California since 2004, opening for the likes of Glenn Matlock and the Philistines. They’ve also toured with Texas Terri and and recently played at Wild Weekend Power Pop Fest in Austin. All that and they’re not even in their mid 20s! In contrast, some young Hollywood based glampunkers, like the Sc’oolgirls and Chelsea Doll, who were all over the scene a few years ago, have dropped out of sight. No young band does glampunk as convincingly as Prima Donna. Fads come and go, but talent will out. And these boys have the chops to back up their bravado.

Obscene—How Barney Rosset Published Dirty Books for Fun and Profit

"I feel personally that a word has never been written or uttered that should not be published," was Barney Rosset’s mantra as publisher of Grove Press and the literary journal Evergreen Review. Rosset stayed true to his conviction til he sold the company in 1985, despite several infamous court cases and constant badgering by the U.S. government. Grove Press and its imprints introduced writers as diverse as Samuel Beckett, Henry Miller, Amiri Baraka, Jean Genet, Allen Ginsberg and Malcolm X to the American public. The documentary, Obscene—How Barney Rosset Published Dirty Books for Fun and Profit traces Rosset’s journey from only child of a conservative Illinois banker to king of literate smut and crusader for free expression during the pivotal 1960s.

Rosset turns out to be as much of a larger than life character as the writers he championed. As the driving force behind Grove Press, Rosset presided over some of the most tumultuous literary episodes in American history. An overachiever at an experimental high school in Chicago, Rosset joined the Communist party for a time and rated John Dillinger as one of his (anti) heroes. He chummed around with fellow student and future cinematographer Haskell Wexler and dabbled in writing and film. Eventually, he was able to pursue his love of film and photography in the military during World War II. After he returned from the service, Rosset married painter Joan Mitchell and bought a floundering book publisher.

That company, Grove Press, became America’s foremost“avant guard” publisher from the 1950s to the early 1970s. Rosset brought one controversial book after another to the States, going to court to defend Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer and William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. Lawyers cost a lot of money, and Rosset had to fill the coffers again somehow, so he added other projects to the Grove empire. The publisher produced and distributed films for awhile, and developed the infamous Black Cat series of Victorian and spanking erotica. (Man With a Maid, anyone?) One of Rosset’s biggest moneymakers, turned out to be the Swedish soft core porn film I Am Curious (Yellow).

After funneling most of Grove’s money into court cases (and winning), the problems didn’t stop for Rosset and Grove, but instead regressed to the next level. Grove Press never recovered from the 1-2-3 punch of protests by disgruntled feminists, an attempt to unionize Grove employees, and a bombing of the publishing offices (rumored by some to be perpetrated by the CIA). Curiously, the explosion occurred around the same time Rosset published works by Che Guevara.

The documentary is sprinkled with snippets of an interview Screw publisher Al Goldstein conducted with Rosset on his cable show Midnight Blue. Once NYC counterculture icons, they come across now as endearing old smut peddlers, kibitzing about failed marriages and bad business deals. Al introduces Barney, in part, as a “shitty businessman.”

Filmmakers Neil Ortenberg and Daniel O’ Connor interviewed a treasure trove of Grove authors and other writers for Obscene, including John Rechy, Jim Carrol, Erica Jong, Betty Dodson, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gore Vidal and Michael McClure. And, of course, no documentary about shocking and allegedly obscene art would be complete without comments from Ray Manzarek and John Waters, and they’re included here. Ortenberg and O’Connor have fashioned a poignant and heartfelt documentary about Rosset, his Grove Press co-conspirators and the authors they published. While Obscene is sympathetic to Rosset and his plight, it’s not candy-coated and cites such problems as Rosset’s bad business acumen, occasional naivete and stern office rules.


Obscene is an historical companion piece to the 2005 film Inside Deep Throat, which chronicled the early pioneers of porn and how they paved the way for today’s billion dollar adult film industry. Grove Press (and on the West Coast, City Lights and Black Sparrow) set the precedent for today’s written erotica, political manifestos and Internet free for alls. Even though Rosset was fired from Grove Press by its new owner in 1985 and lost his Long Island expanse , he’s still feisty as ever at 86, drinking Rum and Coke at dinner parties and trudging up the stairs to his Manhattan walk-up. Obscene reminds us that the freedom we enjoy today to write and publish anything from triple X erotic romance to political satire happened, to a great degree, because of dedicated nonconformists like Barney Rosset.

Motorcycle Boy-Popsicle Reissue

When I wrote for Cover Mag in New York circa 1990, I’d take the subway to my editor’s loft on Varick Street every week. She’d greet me with a shopping bag full of CDs and cassettes containing every conceivable glam and hair metal release, or anything featuring poufy haired guys on the cover. Motorcycle Boy had really good hair, but their album Popsicle was not included in any shopping bag ‘o glam. I found a copy at the Record Explosion on Fifth Avenue and grabbed it instantly. No, I’m not talking about the Scottish band of “Big Rock Candy Mountain” fame, but the Hollywood misfits led by charming gadabout Francois on vocals & bass. I never saw the band in NYC but when I moved to Hollywood, I finally saw the reconstituted version in 2008. Who could have predicted that 18 years later they’d still be around and I’d be back in Hollywood? Perseverance pays off.

Hollywood’s Nickel and Dime label reissued Popsicle this summer on as part of a self-titled retrospective of the band’s output. Motorcycle Boy captures the band’s raw garage-punk sound with a remastered version of Popsicle and nine bonus tracks. Produced by the Dolls’ Sylvain Sylvain, Popsicle is a pure adrenaline rush-- but it doesn’t singe your eardrums. It has a Ramones-y vibe in the sense of short, riff specific tunes and trashy humor.

OK, so on the cassette cover they looked passable enough for the hair metal section at Record Explosion, but that’s where the similarity ends. They were the swaggering glampunk rebuttal to the hair metal scene inundating Hollywood in the late 80s/early 90s (except for stripper and drug dalliances, of course.) Hell, they even had a song called“I Hate the Sunset Strip.” And with other songs like the trippy “Supersonic”, the surf rock tinged “Honolulu Baby” and the single "One Punch/Feel It", their music-and persona- were way too punk for Hollywood in the late ‘80s/early 90s. The Nickel & Dime reissue contains several pages of liner notes by band members, a DVD with a complete show from 1993 and a 1990 rehearsal.

The band was based in New York for a brief time, but returned to Hollywood to record Popsicle. John Blazing had replaced original guitarist Ratboy by this time. After a respite to deal with the usual rock 'n' roll problems, Motorcycle Boy returned to play live shows with a revolving cast of members, including Blackie Onassis of Urge Overkill and Johnny Witmer of The Stitches.

If you’re in Hollywood, catch the band live. They still put on a great show, even without onstage drunkenness and crack breaks. And I’m happy to report that 18 years after Popsicle’s release, Francois still has good hair.

P.S. -
For an upclose and personal look at the band, watch this interview on Rock and rolltv or check out their MySpace page

Libertine Dream-Lit Soul (CD Review)

Libertine Dream, the brainchild of musician/poet Rob Chevelle, is a rare bird in today’s musical climate. A collection of 15 hard rock songs with genuine poetry dotting some of the tracks, it bucks the indie/emo/screamo trends and honors unadorned rock with reflective lyrics in the vein of the Cult.

The CD has that hard rock attitude complete with acoustic interludes, thoughtful poetry and heartfelt (but not heavy-handed) political statements. Libertine Dream combines all these elements seamlessly. Instead of implementing the mishmash approach of throwing in an acoustic song here, a rocker there and some poetry over there, Chevelle and co-producer Eliot Waldhorn obviously put a lot of time and thought into arranging the CD to flow together well. Although Chevelle handles vocals, guitar and percussion, there’s a lot to be said for Waldhorn’s guitar playing and drummer Zag Richards, who complement Chevelle’s vision and lyrics with their steady musicianship. And there’s even a metal guest star--Chris Holmes from WASP contributes the guitar outro to “Alliance”, the final song.

There are glimpses of Helmet and even Metallica in songs like “Eternal.” The two part “Outcast” begins with a lilting acoustic poem and segues into melodic metal for the closing half. “Dreams” does have a soothing, dream-like quality and lends itself to listening via candles and incense in the background. This tune definitely has a psychedelic 60s’ Doors vibe.

Libertine Dream is the third CD in the “Lit Soul” trilogy. Seven Worlds, released in 2002, was Chevelle’s initial foray into poetic hard rock, while 2005’s Lit Soul-Poetry focused mostly on Chevelle’s stream of consciousness poems (accompanied by guitar and piano).With Libertine Dream, Chevelle’s Lit Soul concept has matured and it’s worth checking out if your like your rock with a twist of poetry.

MySpace:

www.myspace.com/litsoul

www.litsoul.com

Deja Vu All Over Again

It seems REO Speedwagon isn't the only mainstream/arena rock band from my youth marred by battles between the singer and guitarist. Click the link above to read interviews with Steve Perry and Neal Schon of Journey. I can't expound much on this band or their internal squabbles since I'm not as familiar with their history as REO's, but Steve Perry could sing like a mofo. And he looked like a cross between Cher's twin brother and a sexy elf (sorry, couldn't resist). Plus, he's a Ramones fan-he attended the Ramones 30th Anniversary Show at the Avalon in HW a few years ago.

The megahit incarnation of Styx ended badly as well...Chuck Panozzo, their former bass player, was diagnosed with HIV and left the band in 1998. Singer Dennis DeYoung exited the band shortly thereafter and a flurry of lawsuits ensued between him and guitarists James Young and Tommy Shaw. Shaw and Young are now touring with a replacement singer and drummer The original drummer, John Panozzo, Chuck's twin brother, died in 1996 after years of alcohol abuse.

I don't even wanna know what happened to Foreigner...

Cartman sings "Come Sail Away"

Underrated Guitarists of the 1970s/Early 80s, Vol. 1-Gary Richrath

As a kid growing up on the Southwest side of Chicago, I liked all kinds of music. I had my new wave/punk friends, who wrote poetry and dreamed of living in New York or Los Angeles, and we traveled to the North side to see bands like the Pretenders, the Patti Smith Group, the Waitresses, Wreckless Eric and the Police.

Then I had my mainstream friends who smoked pot, drank beer and got promoted in their retail sales clerk jobs. We’d go to all the arena rock concerts at places like Soldier Field to see bands like the Stones, Peter Frampton, Ted Nugent, Cheap Trick, Blackfoot, and, before they turned into mush, REO Speedwagon.

A few days ago, I happened upon a video of REO on the Midnight Special from 1978. I kept playing the video over and over-not to see Kevin Cronin’s Howard Stern-esque hair, but to marvel at Gary Richrath’s guitar playing.

Roll With the Changes-Midnight Special, 1978?



“Listen to that tone! I wanna hear that again. It sounds so good.” I clicked 'Play again", instantly transported back to the International Amphitheater in 1979. Damn, and couple that with the keyboard solo, you've got a straightforward rock 'n' roll sound that defies sub-genre classification. I don’t care if you’re a jazz snob or a punk rock snob, ya gotta admit, that band could play! I watched the video so many times I resorted to reading the comments posted underneath it. The posters actually had something to say and most of them were pretty funny.



The YouTube comments made me peruse the REO Speedwagon fan websites and discussion groups. Most of the website comments were written by an intelligent bunch of diehard middle-aged fans, and no one seemed to like the new “playing in your local Wal-Mart parking lot” version of the band. Seems that only causal fans like the current version of REO Speedwagon.

Some of what I read broke my heart, being a fan of their music and soft-hearted when it comes to human melodrama. I’m over it now, but it seems ironic that a band whose music made me so happy and gave me hope when I was a depressed teen could turn out to be so dysfunctional, troubled, and/or petty as real people. The main complaints on the fan message boards concerned Kevin Cronin, the lead singer, who hails from my old childhood haunt, Oak Lawn, Illinois. I used to brag about that to people. Of course, the guitar player from Disturbed is also from Oak Lawn…errr.. maybe I’d be better off not mentioning Oak Lawn at all. There were mucho comments about Cronin’s ego and substance abuse, Richrath’s drinking and “too many girlfriends”, the keyboard player’s mental breakdown, etc. Then there were the lawsuits, one of which resulted in the band apologizing to their fans on the official website, and then the fan club president sued them for insinuating she was a lesbian. It’s like a pathetic, humorless version of Spinal Tap.

So let’s talk about happier times.

"All of a sudden out of the clear blue sky, the telephone rings…"

Ahh, the 80s, the height of rock star fashion…Somewhere else, but not here..dig those melon-colored parachute pants..

157 Riverside Avenue-1985




I only cared for three REO albums-- You Get What You Play For, You Can Tune A Piano But You Can’t Tuna Fish (such innocent times! People actually thought that was a clever title) and Nine Lives. I adored Nine Lives because it was REO’s “heavy metal” guitar based album. But alas, the music public at large didn’t prefer the hard rockin' REO. Hi Infidelity was released in late 1980 and would forever connect REO with Styx and Journey in the unholy triumvirate of wimp rock.

I didn’t get into that album like the previous ones. After the opening rocker, “Don’t Let Him Go” I lost interest. I bought the next album, Good Trouble, then moved to L.A. and didn’t care anymore. When I glanced at the band’s overproduced mid-80s videos on MTV, REO had morphed into a generic shadow of the rockers I first discovered on a bill they played with headliner Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Each succeeding REO music video featured more and more of Cronin, with Richrath’s guitar and his beautiful dark blonde curls (sigh) hidden in the background, trying to salvage what was left of the “rock” part of “rock band.” Then drummer and founding member Alan Gratzer retired and Richrath was fired. REO soldiered on, and after a few years of low-selling albums on small labels, Wal-Mart parking lots and classic rock tour packages with Journey and Styx beckoned. As for Richrath, he played small clubs with his own band in the ‘90s, then disappeared completely.

A friend dared me to watch the following video, and said he’d give me 20 bucks if I could get through the whole thing. I couldn’t do it.




Come back, Gary Richrath, we need you.

Nixon's Ghost-Tribute to Gary Richrath

Broken English-A Film by Zoe Cassavetes

Broken English
Written and Directed by Zoe Cassavetes
Starring Parker Posey, Drea de Matteo, Gena Rowlands, Melvil Poupaud
Rated PG-13
3 Stars

Review

Zoe Cassavetes’s introspective romantic comedy “Broken English” will ring true for 30-something career women in large cities more than the designer-driven fairy tales of Sex and the City, or garden-variety romantic comedies. Indie darling Parker Posey, usually known for her ribald characters, plays sweetly neurotic Nora Wilder , a somewhat shy guest relations manager at a Manhattan boutique hotel. Serial dater Nora’s Mom (played by Cassavetes’s real-life Mom, Gena Rowlands) constantly reminds Nora that she’s still single, even setting her up on a disastrous blind date. Nora’s spunky best friend (The Sopranos Drea de Matteo) Audrey is guilty of the same set-ups as Nora’s Mom. Nora’s love life is further hampered by the fact that she plays “third wheel” to Audrey and her hubby Mark (Tim Guniee) a little too often.

Nora has a cushy job and a spacious apartment (without a roommate!) in Manhattan, but she doesn’t have any luck with men. A high maintainence actor (Justin Theroux) staying at the hotel where Nora works takes her to dinner, bores her with acting talk, and a couple of sakes later, they’re in bed. Nora’s new beau is later exposed as a cad on an Entertainment Tonight type show, and that’s another name marked off Nora’s potential husband list

Posey’s nuanced performance drives the film, and makes even simple details come alive. When Nora is getting ready for a party, waiting for her facial masque to dry while meditating, we can almost feel her quiet desperation. Likewise, the scene where Nora twirls her hair, disinterested, while a date describes himself, rings true to any woman who’ve been through the dating grind and back again.


Eschewing a trip to Miami with Audrey and her husband Mark, Nora reluctantly goes to a co-worker’s Fourth of July party and deals with the usual schlubs before being coerced to stay by Julien (Melvil Poupaud), a charming but eccentric Parisian. They hang out together, and Nora actually has fun with him (unlike her other dates) before any romantic interlude occurs.


The friendship between Audrey and Nora is fiber that holds Nora together during her most neurotic times. Feisty Audrey’s marriage to show biz exec Mark turns sour, and she accompanies Nora on a spur of the moment trip to Paris sans her wedding ring. Despite being charmed by a married Frenchman on her brief visit, Audrey decides to give her marriage another try.

Nora, the emotional opposite of self-assured Audrey, finally forces herself to take a stand and stay in Paris to find Julien on her own. A series of coincidences that seem a tad too convenient aid her search for him.

A charming indie chick-flick, Broken English avoids the sappiness and slapstick comedy of mainstream romances, and focuses on Nora’s insecurities and her desire to overcome them. Career women in their late 20s and 30s will identify with Nora and Audrey, and the slice of life Paris and New York scenery lend the film an air of authenticity. The cities are as much a part of the film as the characters, not included as a backdrop or travelogue.

A promising feature debut from Zoë Cassavetes, what Broken English lacks in originality it makes up for in spirit.

How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter To The Greatest Teen Magazine Of All Time

How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter To The Greatest Teen Magazine Of All Time

By Kara Jesella and Marisa Meltzer
Faber And Faber, Inc.
Paperback, $18.00

The WWW was still a glow in computer geeks’ eyes, and Teen, YM and Seventeen were the mags of choice for American girls in the late 1980s.Long after the rise of feminism and the sexual revolution, even several years after Madonna had exposed her belly and bangles for girls to emulate, mags for young women still focused on diets, prom dresses, and recipes, not the reality of everyday teen life in America.

Enter Sassy. Sandra Yates founded the magazine as an Americanized version of the much raunchier Australian teen mag Dolly. Jane Pratt, a 24 year old North Carolina native, became Sassy’s first editor, and along with staff members like Christina Kelly, Margie Ingall and Catherine Gysin, created the most infamous and influential teen magazine ever. Writing in their own distinct, first-person voices, Sassy writers connected with their teen-age audience Staid journalism school reportage and glib PR exercises filled with exclamation points had no place in Sassy’s pages. The magazine featured articles and reader letters about subjects such as homosexuality, incest, safe sex and abortion, and dared to include models who weren’t corn-fed and squeaky-clean.

That might all seem run of the mill now, but consider this. Sassy debuted in 1988, the year in which clean-cut mall chicks Debbie Gibson and Tiffany shared the charts with brain dead, groupie-banging metalers like Poison and Motley Crue. Movies like Rain Man, Big, and Scrooged were box office hits, and underground artists and funky, creative high school kids endured hard times and ridicule, not instant Internet fame.

Authors Marisa Meltzer and Kara Jesella chronicle the rise and fall of Sassy in How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter To The Greatest Teen Magazine Of All Time.”
Meltzer and Jesella are among the young women who grew up with Sassy and revere the magazine to this very day. In this meticulous but not overwhelming history, they interview former staffers, readers and even some of the celebrities who graced the ground-breaking mag’s covers and articles. Despite their obvious admiration for “the greatest teen magazine of all time”, the authors cover the in-fighting and negative aspects of Sassy’s reign as well as the pajama party hijinx.

In the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, Sassy, along with Spy, exemplified the nascent trend of the snarky celebrity put-down that is lovingly taken to the extreme today by web sites like Gawker and Defamer. Even Pratt’s successive magazine, Jane, kowtows to the bland celebrities that Sassy dismissed. Christina Kelly was infamous for articles that pondered the appeal of “bands” like New Kids On The Block or exposed TV starlets like Tiffani Amber Thiessen as airheads. The latter interview prompted an angry letter from the actress’ publicist. Notice this 1989 quote from Christina:

“What is wrong with our society that we elevate sleazoids to celebrity status, take their opinions seriously, and make them rich?”

*Sigh.* Some trends are as all-consuming in 2007 as they were in 1989. Sassy’s well… sassy railing against dumb celebrities didn’t put it out of business, but mainstream pundits threatened to destroy the magazine. Right wing curmudgeons almost put the mag out of business by urging advertisers to boycott because of the magazine’s many sexually frank articles. Meltzer and Jesella explore the constant battles Sassy waged with the religious right, mainstream America, and even some of their own sales reps and publishers.

Meeting the fate of so many other magazines, Sassy was eventually sold by Lang Communications to Peterson Publishing, which proceeded to drive the mag into obscurity, and it folded in 1996. Some things aren’t meant to last. They are too unique, too indicative of a certain time and mind-set which is forever lost. Sassy was one of those things.

Luckily, we now have the Sassy-influenced Bust, Bitch and Venus Magazine to speak for independent, feisty girls and young women. More of today’s teen-age girls need to embrace these magazines the same way girls in the 80s and early 90s embraced Sassy. Many social stigmas have vaporized for young women since Sassy’s debut, but other pressures and barriers, like political correctness and the vapid Girls Gone Wild culture have replaced them.

Heavy Metal And Its Culture: Interview With Deena Weinstein

Deena Weinstein, a professor of sociology at DePaul University in Chicago, is the author of Heavy Metal: The Music and Its Culture and Heavy Metal: A Cultural Sociology as well as numerous zine articles about the subject.

Weinstein first discovered heavy metal music in the 1980s and has been one of the most vocal metal music writers and experts since then, along with Fargo Rock City author Chuck Klosterman, Martin Popoff and Chuck Eddy. This is a reprint of an interview I conducted with Professor Weinstein on May 13, 2005.

JB-How did you come to write the book Heavy Metal and Its Culture?

DW-There were some idiots running around--politicians and politicians’ wives like Tipper Gore saying the most stupid things in the world. They didn’t know what they were talking about. I’d been to a whole number of concerts by then and I thought someone ought to set the record straight, and then I realized none of the metal people could do it. They were already demonized by these politicians and I thought I better do something.

JB- How did you conduct your research?

DW-I attended lot of concerts, and did a lot of interviewing, waiting on line for four hours in 13 degrees for a Slayer concert. That’s a great place to speak to metal fans so that they see you are in the same predicament as they are and you know about the music and care about the music, so they spoke to me at great length.

JB-Did you discover anything surprising about the music or the fans in your research?

DW-Now that I think of it. They were sweetest people in the world. From an outsider’s point of view, they looked rather menacing. but on the topic of metal they just melted to be the nicest most charming people in the universe. So I mean I got to be grand friends with loads of them.

JB-What bands or metal sub-genres do you enjoy?

Late 80s when I was doing all the research, thrash metal my very favorite, I like death and black. There's doom metal like Trouble that I still adore. There are examples of all of it that I really like.

JB-What about rap metal or nu metal?

DW-Good or bad it doesn’t do anything for me. Nu metal, especially things like Korn, had a lot more to do with grunge music than metal

JB-What was the first band could call heavy metal?

DW-Obviously, Sabbath put down a number of moves that others could improve upon. But the band that had all of the verbal and sonic elements of metal was Judas Priest’s second album. Their first album Rocka Rolla was not metal at all. Sad Wings Of Destiny had all of the moves that anyone could consider metal. What do you think? (the first metal album was)

JB- Some of the late ‘60s psychedelic bands had a pretty metal sound, like Vanilla Fudge when they did “You Keep Me Hangin On.” Is that more hard rock though?


DW- There’s no supreme court of metal. I had to explain to the guy who first used the term heavy metal in print that he was the first guy to use it in print. All the idiot writers say it was Lester and I went through all of Lester Bangs’ material and no, it wasn’t him. It was a guy named Mike Saunders. When I asked Mike years later where he got the term from, he said from Lester. But of course Lester and he and the batch of guys from Creem Magazine were all living together so Lester may have mentioned it in terms of discussion, but Mike was the first to use it in print. You pays your money, you take your chances.

But there were things like Montrose’s first album with Sammy Hagar singing that had lots of the elements, but if you look at Judas Priest’s Sad Wings it has not only all the sounds but also all the various themes and also the visual iconography.

JB- Why is Lemmy God?

DW-Number one because he came into music at a time when artists could do anything, before all genres became specialized. I mean when he was with Hawkwind, there was jazz going on there as well as hard rock and psychedelia going on in the same band. From about ‘68-‘73 in Britain and the United States, the audience for rock music wasn’t broken into tribes. And then in about ‘74 or so it started breaking down into tribes. He already did want he wanted to do he was sort of spoiled by the times and then when he was thrown out of Hawkwind, he just and he did what he wanted with his music, which in some real sense is not metal at all as he always claimed. It was really hard rock ‘n’ roll. Think of how unique AC/DC is-- who he admires greatly and always did.

He was there before metal became metal and he did things his way and the other thing he happens to be really well-read. I will put him up against any history professor on World War II and he’s pretty good on World War I also. He taught himself German and I’ve had discussions with him on Nietzsche. In some zine one time I wrote a piece on Nietzsche’s Favorite Metal Songs and Orgasmatron was number one. Lemmy’s smart and willful and there’s a lot going on there.

JB-Who are some of your other favorite metal personalities?

You know that’s the problem. One of the things I’ve found horrible about meeting people is that the quality of the music and the quality of the person are almost arbitrarily related. Some of the grandest music is made by biggest schmucks in the universe, and some of the sweetest people make some of the worst music. For years I just had to really get over that.

JB-You really have to separate the person and the music. They can be totally opposite.

DW-Name a band you like.

JB-The Ramones

The Ramones and Motorhead went on tour together. When you look at Ramones and Motorhead, they had elements of metal but neither one was really punk or metal.
(Joey and Johnny) I wouldn’t wanna know either of them and DeeDee (was) even worse, but the music was magnificent. So that’s an example. Who else do you like?

JB-Guns ‘N’ Roses-at least the first album.

The first album did nothing for me. But I love Slash’s guitar playing. I’m a guitar wonk. I could talk guitars endlessly. I must admit that I thought Axl was one of the world’s greatest frontman.

JB- Of course, Axl was a big question mark as a person.

DW-There is no doubt. Nobody in that band was a functional human being. The very, very drunken Slash was probably the most together guy in the band.

JB-One of my rock critic friends once said, “If I only listened to music by people I like or people who are nice, I’d never listen to anything!”

DW-He’s got a point there.

* DW's Comments About Some Other Metal Bands*

Slipknot/Macabre

I met the guitarist for Slipknot. They came out of death metal bands. They’re great musicians, but they’re also huge fans of music. There’s a wonderful death metal band that I love dearly called Macabre. They only do songs on serial killers. They had a whole album on Jefferey Dahmer. They’re genius musicians, and they’re hysterical. Corporate Death, the singer-guitarist, is verbally magnificent. The guy from Slipknot drove in an ice storm from Des Moines to Chicago just to catch their show.

Metallica

Kill ‘Em All was their best album and it went downhill from there. 80s Metallica vs 90s Metallica. I saw the Garage Days Revisited tour. Lars, after 4 songs, he can finally drum. The vocals in the '90s annoy me. Cliff kept Metallica’s vision in the same way Johnny kept the Ramones’ vision. He died, they changed.

JB- Even after all these years, heavy metal music gets a bad rap in the mainstream media.

I think its good, actually. It gives them an unwimpy rep. They kinda like that. So let the mainstream think whatever they want.

A book just came out called Bad Music. I did a chapter on why the critics need heavy metal. They sort of needed it til the last four or five years as their whipping boy for "what is bad music."

JB-I recently interviewed an English writer and was amazed at how seriously they take rock music there.

DW-In England (metal fans) radically live and breath subcultures that can’t exist in the U.S. for a series of reasons. You can’t be into it because we don’t have the same class system they have or the same lack of geographic mobility. When they get married so many of the metal guys hide their music because they’re supposed to be friends with their wives. I can’t understand the idea of marrying someone who does not like the same music you do. I just cannot understand that, but so many of them do it.

Morrissey at the Pasadena Civic Center, Feb. 2, 2007.

Morrissey
Feb 2, 2007
Pasadena Civic Center

Earlier this month, Morrissey played three sold-out but barely advertised shows at the Pasadena Civic Center. Tickets were snapped up in record time by his loyal fans, per usual, with some fans attending all three nights. Well, I might be loyal, but I’m certainly not that rich (tickets were $75 a pop, plus Ticketmaster charges), so I opted for Friday night’s show.

The Pasadena Civic is a pretty classy place. If you were a character in the Mike Judge film Idiocracy, you’d say “This place is gheyer than an opera house.” Translation-it’s really nice. While waiting in line outside before the show, I met a few personable and highly dedicated Moz fans. I talked to a high school girl who had bought her pit ticket off eBay for a mere 200 bucks, and a recently engaged couple. The bridegroom to be was the Morrissey fan, and his fiancée had to adjust to this. “Do you love me as much as you love Morrissey?” she joked. “I love you more,” he said. Then they kissed. Say it with me now. “How sweet!!” All Moz fans have a backstory.

The security people were efficient and very nice. Not that you have to worry about Moz fans sneaking in illegal drugs, bacon, or switchblades. Maybe a few copies of Gertrude Stein, though. The neatly organized merchandise tables with Moz cuff links and T-shirts seemed more like a Saks Fifth Avenue counter than a cheap concert venue swag receptacle.

The auditorium was half-empty for opener Kristeen Young, a Bjork/Tori Amos hybrid without the focus. Accompanied by a drummer who looked like he had barely graduated from junior high, Young pounded on her keyboards and wailed like a soprano gone berserk. She honed her musical skills in St. Louis, then moved to New York City, where she met Tony Visconti, who produced her albums X and London Cry. (Visconti also produced Morrissey’s Ringleader of The Tormentors.) The sparse crowd heckled or ignored Young. This was unfortunate, since she was hand-picked by Morrissey to be on his Attack label and open his European tour and the Pasadena dates. You’d think his fans would be more appreciative of his choices.

Moz and band appeared after a series of 60’s Euro-pop videos played on the screen behind the stage. Moz looks just a bit older than in the M in Manchester video and was nattily attired in a brown Gucci shirt and brown pants. He walks onstage, and everyone in the crowd stands in rapt attention and stays that way for the remainder of the show. I think if someone sat down, lighting would have hit them. And I got a good view of those famous eyebrows even from the 23rd row. I have a thing for guys with EYEBROWS anyhow. (Don’t ask!)

A 2007 Moz concert bears no resemblance to riots of years past, and stage crashers are few and far between, at least at this particular show. A half dozen security guys descended on some poor bloke in a red shirt, then Moz and band left the stage, with guitarist Boz Boorer tsk-tsking someone in the audience (the guy in the red shirt, perhaps?) as they scurried backstage. The band returned for the encore, Don’t Make Fun Of Daddy’s Voice. (“something got stuck in his throat” got changed to “someone got stuck in his throat”) Moz, you are a cheeky monkey!


Songs included Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want, William, It Was Really Nothing, show-opener Panic, (otherwise known to the uninformed as Hang The DJ), Girlfriend In A Coma and How Soon Is Now. Moz also gave a shout-out to über-fan Julia Riley and mock introduced one of the songs as Get Off The Stage, a little-known B-side written when Moz was a youngin’. The song’s lyrics criticized then 45 year old Mick Jagger for strutting his stuff. Aaah, the irony of life. Moz is now 47, and he ripped off four-count em-4 Gucci shirts and tossed ‘em to the ravenous crowd at this show. Moz has a bit of a poufy stomach, but its’ kinda cute. The guys sitting behind me, who looked like they just stumbled in from the the sports bar across the street, spent most of the night screaming for the band to play Jack The Ripper. No such luck, fellas.

Of course, the bulk of the show featured songs from the lukewarm Ringleader of the Tormentors, and luckily, these songs, which sound overproduced and self-important on the CD, have balls live. Morrissey’s current band is a far cry from the excellent outfit he had on the Quarry tour, but they gave a much-needed kick to the songs from Ringleader. Life Is A Pigsty, melodramatic orchestrated piece on the disc, becomes a feisty rock song live.

Alain Whyte, Mikey Farrell, and Gary Day are gone, leaving longtime guitarist Boz Boorer and new guitarist Jesse Tobias as the only readily identifiable members of Morrissey’s band. As great as Moz is all by his lonesome, I miss Alain, Gary and Mikey. Maybe they’ll be back. Maybe not. And let’s not even talk about Johnny Marr. That’s one reunion that ain’t happening, baby. Moz is still here, and he still has it, regardless of his back-up band. A 40 city U.S. tour will be announced shortly.

Pure Organic Junk-Peter Blast

Pure Organic Junk
Peter Blast
Poptown Records

Chicago’s Peter Blast has a colorful rock 'n' roll pedigree. He survived the first wave of ’77 punk as the guitarist/frontman for the vastly underappreciated Degeneration. After Degeneration ended, Blast hung out and played with such punk icons as Johnny Thunders and Stiv Bators, then returned to his hometown of Chicago, first touring with the Blast Factory under the name Peter Blastiosso, and formed Junebug with ex-members of D’Molls and Alice Cooper. More hard rock than retro punk, Pure Organic Junk showcases Blast’s versatile songwriting. Buoyed by Chip Z’nuff’s production, the CD showcases a variety of songs from Blast’s storied career, as well as a few new tracks.

From the relentless rock of Orange Sunshine to the 70s “big rock” feel of Heaven Only Knows, the raunchy, no-frills sound is a little like classic Stones or Aerosmith with a touch of Alice Cooper inspired vocals. The ballads really shine, too. Place The Blame On Me features crisp, melancholy acoustic guitar that perfectly embellishes this tale of regret and broken love. The Crossroads Hotel and It’s a Cruel, Cruel World have a country twang, while On An Angel’s Wings is delicate without being sappy. The bonus tracks include a cover of Pills, first popularized by Blast’s buddies, the New York Dolls.

Pure Organic Junk is an unpretentious, bare-bones album from one of punk rock’s lesser known trailblazers.

Return of The Golden Rhodes-The Baldwin Brothers

The Baldwin Brothers
Return of the Golden Rhodes
TVT

No, Alec, Stephen, William and Daniel have not followed the Bacon Brothers lead and formed a band. These Baldwin Brothers are not actors but two childhood friends/musicians from Indiana, Jason Hinkle and TJ Widner. They specialize in jazz/electronica or “junktronic” music. A hybrid of indie pop, funk and electronica that combines influences as divergent as 70s funk, Kraftwork, the Beastie Boys, and Herbie Hancock. Golden Rhodes is the follow-up to the Brothers’ acclaimed 2002 CD Cooking With Lasers.

On Return of the Golden Rhodes, this junktronic vibe is the hippest easy listening music you’ve ever heard. While this eclectic pop/ jazz hybrid may confuse some listeners used to a straightforward approach, the more adventurous are in for a treat. The building blocks of the Baldwin Brothers sound are bass, drums and synthesizers, with occasional turntables and trumpets for embellishment.

The space-age drum ‘n bass of Right On sets the album’s trippy vibe. The laconic under the strobe lights trance of Just Me (On The Dance Floor) has a generic dance club feel. This sound morphs into an early ‘90s hip-hop groove on A Matter Of Time, which features guest rapper Sarai. Other guest vocalists are Lisa Kekula (BellRays) and Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees). Kekula’s turn on Leave The Past Behind is an upbeat and near perfect example of “smooth jazz”. Mark Lanegan’s subdued, almost whispered vocals on the somber The Party’s Over close out the album.

At the very least, Golden Rhodes offers pleasurable and unobtrusive background music. It doesn’t provide beats you can really sink your teeth into, but it’s catchy and user-friendly. The Baldwin Brothers’ funky, light-hearted approach to indie electronica puts them in a league of their own, and I wouldn’t be surprised if their popularity expands out of the Mixer Mag crowd and into the mainstream.

Interview With Matt Tauber, Director of The Architect

Director Matt Tauber talks about his feature film debut, The Architect




The Architect, starring Anthony LaPaglia (“Without A Trace”) and Viola Davis (“Far From Heaven” ) is now playing nationwide. The film concerns the struggles of a Chicago mother (Davis) and her attempts to get the inner city projects where she has endured a family tragedy torn down. LaPaglia, the architect who designed the ill-fated buildings, defends his creation while dealing with family turmoil of his own. The film also stars Isabella Rossellini, Hayden Panettiere, Sebastian Stan and Paul James. I recently spoke with the film's director, Matt Tauber, a seasoned theatre pro who choose The Architect as his first film project.

JB- You worked with 2 Tony award winners (Anthony LaPaglia and Viola Davis) and Isabella Rossellini on your first film. What was that like?

MT-We’d all had a lot of experience in theater. There’s sort of a camaraderie and fraternity among theatre actors and directors. They’ve all been through the same process, and there’s an immediate bond usually among people that have a background in the stage and I certainly felt that with Anthony and Viola. We had met a few time each to discuss the script and the roles as they were deciding whether to do the film or not. We developed a rapport rather quickly. I was very comfortable with them and it’s a credit to them to take a chance on risky material, and a first time director as well.

Isabella came to the project very, very late, less than a week before we started production. She, I think, particularly was very brave to kind of a challenging and in some ways underwritten part with so little preparation. We developed a rapport quickly because we had to.




JB-How did this project originate? You first saw the play in Scotland.

MT- I had a play called American Divine which ran in rotating rep with The Architect. So while my play was going on I would go to the theatre next door and watch The Architect. After seeing it 3-4 times I grew to really fall in love with the language and I started reimagining it as an American story. Some of the political issues it touches on were very prescient at that time, especially in Chicago where I was living and working in the public schools and the juvenile detention center. It seemed like a natural fit and I was inspired by a lot of the poetry and ideas of the play and excited by the opportunity that I was coming upon in my work in Chicago.

JB-What did you encounter in Chicago that inspired you?

MT-Just this idea that an environment shapes its inhabitants, but also inhabitants shape their environment. And that you know our homes and where we live can become just as much of a physical prison as the emotional prisons of loneliness and grief and disconnection from family. And so I was interested in telling those stories, those very human stories about a father and son that are unable to connect, a mother and daughter that have never properly grieved the loss of their son and brother. And use the political and social backdrop of issue high rise public housing projects as metaphor and as a companion story.




JB-What was most challenging about adapting the play to film?

MT- Juggling multiple storylines, something I was doggedly insistent of. Even though others may have embraced the protagonist driven play and let it be that, I wanted to tell a lot of these stories and I wanted to show the unlikely places where they met, both literally and thematically. So juggling those stories and trying to use that emotional zeitgeist as a connective tissue is really hard, especially editorially. That was the biggest struggle.

JB-What scene was most challenging to film?

MT-The toughest scene to shot was very simply the scence where Viola’s character comes to Anthony LaPaglia’s character’s home. There were a lot of plates spinning in that scene. You’ve got four very distinct responses to what happens. And the scene really sets each of the characters off in very different directions. It’s an inciting incident for all four characters. It’s such a talky scene. Anthony and Viola had so much to do as far as keeping it going take after take. And then editorially trying to keep all the characters involved in the scene and keep us connected to all the characters was a challenge.

JB-Do you have any new projects you’re working on?

MT-I’m very excited about my next film. It’s called Lives of the Saints. It’s a beautiful ensemble story of redemption, forgiveness and God’s grace. It stars Jeff Daniels. We’re just starting to cast right now and we hope to shoot it in the summer.

Dirty Blonde: The Diaries of Courtney Love

Dirty Blonde:The Diaries of Courtney Love Faber & Faber Hardcover: $35.00 When I first heard a book called Dirty Blonde by Courtney Love was about to be published, I thought “What will she say about the week Kurt died? About Marilyn Manson, Madonna, Trent Reznor, Billy Corgan? I bet she has a lot to say, well as long as she was sober when she wrote it. Hell, if she’s under the influence she’ll have a lot to say too.” But Dirty Blonde is not an autobiography, per se. It is a photo collage, a journal, a hodge-podge of notes, lists, drawings and photographs. It reminds us that grunge was the last underground music movement in America that was not chronicled instantly over the internet. I’d be interested to hear what a person who knows nothing about Ms. Love would say after picking up this book. There’s absolutely nothing linear in it and I wonder what opinion a stranger would have about the scribbled notes, lyrics and goals. "This broads insane!" might be a typical reaction. Lyrics to Celebrity Skin, Softer, Softest, Reasons To Be Beautiful, Sunset Marquis and other songs are interspersed throughout Dirty Blonde, along with such miscellaneous correspondence as a thank-you note from designer Marc Jacobs, a letter that Kurt and Courtney received from David Geffen after Francis Bean was born, and a letter from the Oregon Children’s Services Division concerning young reform school Courtney’s “theft and criminal mischief.” What gets lost and is not addressed much in any of the photos and scribbles in Dirty Blonde is the fact the Love, for all her faults and eccentricities, was one of the only prominent women covered by MTV and the mainstream media to consistently champion lives of young girls and women during the ‘90s. There were, of course, lesser known cult idols who always did so, but Courtney had a broader platform to express her opinions. She addressed certain situations in interviews and on her websites and message boards, such as counseling some groupies for Korn on self-esteem (see www.moonwashedrose ) and was very instrumental in teaching girls to be their own person and not simply adjuncts to men. This is particularly ironic because Courtney is always accused of simply piggybacking on Kurt’s success. But one of Courtney’s paths to fame was associating with other famous or talented people, male or female, even though she had the raw pluck to get to the top herself. She carried on this M.O. even after she become famous, even though it wasn’t really necessary for her to do so with such groupie like awe to stay famous. There’s that contradiction again. The photographs of Courtney in Dirty Blonde are very telling. She’s most interesting before the nose job. The issues of female beauty she touched upon with Pretty on the Inside, kinderwhore dresses, and Live Through This trumped the vacant, cross-eyed stare of her Celebrity Skin days. Courtney’s soulless Barbie doll plastic surgery look and the still seething timbre of her lyrics and music didn’t complement each other. Things got a little too schizoid, and it confused people. So was she a glamorous movie star or a rebellious dirty blonde? Was it even possible to do both simultaneously? I think the blowout after the New York drunk/stoned incidents in the Wendy’s and on the Letterman show fueled Courtney’s current trek to England to follow in the footsteps of her nemesis Madonna. Plus now we have Paris Hilton and panty less Britney, and they are in their 20s. A panty less broad in her 20s in silly and hot; a panty less broad in her 40s is just silly. For all her craziness, Courtney could mention such diverse topics as pop culture, history, Buddhism, yoga, and psychology in her music and interviews from the time she cavorted around the punk rock scene in ‘80s L.A. to the present. We don’t get that with role models for females in music now. Angelina Jolie is the only real female celebrity that can be admired for her dedication to these matters now, and often in a more selfless way than Courtney. The notes and snippets in Dirty Blonde make me wish Courtney would someday write a book in a linear, prose style. (She has said she will never write an autobiography.) But if she did, would the general public take it seriously? When a woman screams “Wax my anus!” and the quote is splayed along magazine pictures leading to said event, people tend to forget all her comments about Buddhism. While there is certainly room in one lifetime to be both a feminist icon and a nasty, out of control harridan, public perception only allows a woman to be branded for eternity as one or the other.