First Reality Show Expo Fails to Reel in Fans

 Kynt & Vyxsin from The Amazing Race 12

The first Reality Rocks reality show expo came and went with a whimper at L.A.’s Convention Center on April 9 and 10. I'm not a fan of reality shows, to say the least, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to check out the expo. After all, this form of entertainment has taken over the TV airwaves for the last decade. There must be something to it, right? Eeer...maybe not. When I visited Reality Rocks on Sunday the 10th at 11 a.m there were more cameramen and reporters on the show floor than paying attendees. There wasn’t much action at all on the ground floor.  Cast members from Storage Wars and the Antiques Roadshow discussed turning knowledge of collectibles into a reality show career as a small group of convention-goers listened. Elsewhere on the first floor, Hot Topic Goths Kynt and Vyxsin from The Amazing Race added a bit of rock 'n' roll style with lots of mascara and neon pink.

The scene was a bit livelier upstairs where workshops and screenings convened. How to Become a Host/Reality Star – Parlay Your 15 Minutes of  Fame into a Career  featured a panel of  lesser-known reality starlets discussing branding and how to keep your name in front of the public. The participants reinforced the notion of constant self-promotion and reinvention. The young reality show girls on the panel  had a lot in common -- they all sported slight variations of the same hairstyle, makeup, clothing, attitude, and speaking voice. As they walked past, I thought, 'They just look like the girls who work at Claire’s Boutique in the mall.’  But that’s the whole point of reality shows – anyone can be famous. Maybe that's the reason the genre keeps going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.  It provides the easiest opportunity yet for people to be famous, with or without talent.

With many of these shows, the “talent” seems to be simply existing—being “you”, albeit a caricatured version of “you.” Paris Hilton and the Kardashians have been in the spotlight for years without any old-school talent and it doesn’t look like they’ll develop any (or leave the media circus) soon.

Other panels included The Power of the Internet, which featured the host and creator of Yahoo’s Daytime in No Time recaps. I never realized the show was sponsored by J.C. Penney’s, and that all the clothing worn by the host and the set furniture was provided by the retailer til  I attended this panel. Integrating YouTube, Internet webisodes and other online video to pitch products in a seamless blend of entertainment and advertising is a hot marketing trend right now. It was also mentioned in the workshop, Brand Yourself: Using Social Media to Advance Your Career in Reality TV. This panel was standing room only and provided the liveliest discourse of the day. The verdict: YouTube is tops for aspiring reality stars and other publicity seekers. Constant Twittering is another essential.

 The last panel of the day was the best and the funniest. Playboy TV debuted TV for 2, which is geared towards couples. Celebrity Sex Tales, a new Playboy series, features C and D list celebs like Nicole Eggert and Corey Feldmen talking about sexual shenanigans while wacky cartoons illustrate their stories. (Judging by one of the clips, Corey Feldmen has borrowed one of Gene Simmons' toupees.)  Adrianne Curry of America’s Top Model and Surreal Life was on the panel and is one of the storytellers on Celebrity Sex Tales.  Curry is an example of a reality show performer who has created her own distinct persona --the sexy smartass. (She’s sort of a reality show-only version of Kathy Griffith). Ron Jeremy, appearing at the expo via his Surreal Life appearances, was in the audience for this one. The panel ended with a screening of a new series called The Stash. The program features host Rachel Perry making snarky comments about sex stories in the news and ridiculous porno clips. Apparently, there’s a big market out there for midget porn. Who knew?

The inaugural Reality Rocks Expo lacked star power and interesting performances. I’m sure fans would appreciate appearances from controversial divas like Tamra Barney or Gretchen Rossi of Real Housewives of Orange County in future incarnations of this event.  Stars from music-oriented shows like Rock Star SuperNova and VH-1’s tragically under-publicized Bands Reunited could spice up the performance stages.

Club Romper Stomper Brings Wild Rock 'N' Roll Back to the L.A. Club Scene

 From the Masque and other punk rock clubs in the late 1970s and early 1980s to the hair metal Sunset Strip scene , L.A. has always been home to many lively and influential music clubs. Some, like the Masque and Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco, have made it into rock history books while others are highlighted only in former patrons’ memories (and on their Facebook pages). The Los Angeles club scene circa 2011 may not have the flash and finesse of years past, but a handful of local musicians and promoters are striving to recharge the current L.A. club scene. Asia Muka, the creator of Hollywood’s Club Romper Stomper, is one of them.

A monthly celebration of the crème de la crème of the L.A. rock scene, Romper Stomper features true rock and roll bands that carry on the tradition of garage, mod, punk and glitter bands from the past. Romper Stomper performers have included the Ruby Friedman Orchestra, Vicky and the Vengents and the Woolly Bandits. Asia is devoted to introducing nitty-gritty rock and roll to a wider audience. “I want to do my part in spreading the message of inspiration through the power of music. I know that may sound a ‘lil hippie hippie shake,but it is something I feel strongly about… A few times when I was working with some 20 year olds, I made them a compilation CD. A wild mix of stuff from the 1920's up until the 70's punk era, including soul, mod, etc.  Anyway, these kids had no idea this music existed and were completely blown away.  It was truly a musical mind opener for them...and me!"

Romper Stomper made its debut in May 2010 at the Sunset Bar and Grill in Hollywood with headliners the Hitz out of West Covina. Says Asia, “I really liked their energy and wanted other people to know about them. I kind of took a huge gamble and did not book any other bands! I gave the whole night to The Hitz!  And promoted the hell out of the show (as i do every show).  I was really surprised that for a Friday night we had a great crowd!”

 

Legendary KROQ  DJ Rodney Bingenheimer  has co-hosted several Romper Stomper events, including a recent show with local glam faves Prima Donna and the female-fronted punk of Barb Wire Dolls (a band that recently relocated to L.A. from Greece.) Asia elaborates on her association with Rodney. ” I met Rodney when I was working on the Runaways movie. (Asia was a costumer for the film.)  I have always admired Rodney for taking a stand in the RNR world.  Once we became good friends, I talked him into letting me organize a night in honor of him,, including bands the he is currently playing on his show.  He does his show every Sunday at Midnight until 3am on KROQ. And that is a hard hour! But I think if more kids took Mondays off from school then they could be injected with some serious musical knowledge , something they may need as they are searching for direction in this chaotic world.”

 Romper Stomper shows have lots of visual and auditory stimulation above and beyond live bands. The club’s walls serve as a screen for clips of T-Rex and other glam and punk bands. There’s a dance floor full of 20something kids imitating the original Rodney’s English Disco vibe and a DJ spinning a mixture of garage, glam and punk tunes. “I try to create an "experience" when doing these shows, Asia notes, “and make it well known that it's perfectly okay to live the life you believe in.  There are a lot of things happening in L.A., you just have to search for them.  But when I can't find them I create them!

The next Club Romper Stomper is Friday April 8^th at the Sunset Bar and Grill with the Crazy Squeeze, Vicky and The Vengents and the Black Mambas.

A Confederacy Of Characters: My New Orleans Story

(This article first appeared on Rock Confidential.com in my column From Hollywood and Beyond shortly after Hurricane Katrina in 2005. It was written under my other byline, Marianne Moro.)


When people ask me what it was like when I lived in New Orleans, I say, “It was like running away to join the circus.” The New Orleans I knew had nothing to do with the working class, if indeed there were any working class in the city itself. I saw the very poor, the very rich and the colorful characters. It is difficult to understand why a city I lived in for nine months invokes more emotion and sparks more vivid memories than the first few years of my life in Los Angeles.

When I first visited New Orleans for a business conference in 1992, I fell in love with the place. I found myself avoiding seminars and exploring the city instead. I hugged a penguin named Elvis and feed a shark in the city’s aquarium. Stepping over the side of the shark tank in high heels was a bitch. If I tripped I’d be shark food. Sure, it was a small city, certainly not what I was used to after living in New York and Chicago, but there was something about it.

New Orleans had the feel of a laid-back European city. Its pace of life was practically a crawl, but its day-to-day business got done in a timely and efficient manner. I’d go to Vaughn’s in the Ninth Ward for rice and beans on Monday and saw Kermit Ruffins play there on Thursdays. Since I didn’t plan on staying for the long haul, I got a job as a clerk in a chain of souvenir shops. I’d work at the souvenir shop, listening to music and kibitzing with tourists all day, then hang out with friends at a bar or club at night. Yes, I was there because I wanted to avoid New York and responsibility for a little bit longer. Guilty as charged.

“New Orleans,” my Grandma would say, “that’s where people go when they have no place left to go.”
 I knew I was in another world when I called up the electric company to pay a bill and they said they were closing down early for Mardi Gras. Ya gotta love a place where even the utility companies shut down to party.

I lived in an apartment across from Armstrong Park. “Oh never go to the convenience store across the street,” the former tenant warned. "Always go to the one on the corner of Ursuline. You’ll live longer” I interviewed about a dozen prospective roommates. One was a muscular French guy riding a Harley.  I kid you not. (Girls, it was heaven.) Being sensible at heart, I decided on a doctor from LaPlatte who only used the apartment when he wanted to party in the Quarter. So I had a huge two-floor apartment with a fireplace and a spiral staircase for $300 month, and I split that amount with the doctor. I had very few possessions in that huge apartment, except for a borrowed bed and dresser, a boom box, and Christmas lights strung along the staircase banister. Someone had painted a lip print on the back door. I had a restaurant-style kitchen but never cooked, just brought home po’ boys from the French Grocery. My girlfriends in New York, bound by the rules and regulations of real life, lived vicariously through my phone calls. Example

“Hi it’s me.”
"Hi."
“Do you know what Brad Pitt looks like?”
“Oh God! You shagged a guy who looks like Brad Pitt.”
My year in New Orleans set me back five years financially.
I didn’t care then and I don’t regret it now.

I lived a punk rock “Confederacy Of Dunces” in New Orleans. (Yes, I have a book about it in the works Hope I don’t suffer the same fate as John Kennedy Toole!) You might say I was a thin, blonde female version of Ignatius.

I babysat a friend’s kids, who did among other things, offer to connect an illegal cable hook-up and tear the neighbor’s expensive crystal mobile from the cantilever balcony. They're probably in jail now, or close to it. I met their Mom at a restaurant called Mena’s on Canal Street at Iberville. She wore harlequin glasses, was raised in New York, and was my evil twin. We became friends and partners in crime, though the friendship ended with her knocking down my front door when she was drunk. We had fun, going to sleazy bars, eating, drinking and chasing guys. My friends were blackjack dealers, bartenders, waiters, strippers, sales clerks, and musicians. All of them came from somewhere else. I knew people who came to New Orleans to kick drugs. “Why?” I said, “So they can become alcoholics instead?”

I spent more time in bars than I did in my apartment. I frequented places like Café Brasil, Checkpoint Charlie’s, Molly’s, Coops, R Bar, and Dragon’s Den. I could go on and on. At the R Bar, they offered haircuts along with drinks one night a week. Checkpoint Charlie had a laundromat. And this is basically where I lived my life. I drank, but I didn’t get drunk very often. My most recurring memories are of the characters I met; the sense of life lived in the present. Some of the best advice I ever got in my life I got from an espresso machine salesman I met at the R Bar. “The clue to life," he said, "is to ingrain your goal in your mind and then forget it.” Its worked for me ever since. Everyone I met there was a bonafide character. The hyperactive French woman, the ex-con, the Harvard graduate/screenwriter, the high school teacher turned bagel maker. I watched brass bands at a club in the warehouse district, hung out at the library by Loyola Marymount and lingered in shops on Magazine Street

The celebrity population in the Crescent City swelled somewhat in those days. Trent Reznor, Marilyn Manson and Anne Rice lived in New Orleans in 1994. En Esch from KMDFM lived in the French Quarter, and Courtney Love almost bought a house there. The running joke was “Are you gonna go to Trent’s studio and find the  Piggy door from the Manson murders?” Rice, Reznor and Manson moved away long before disaster struck.

And then came Mardi Gras. The crowded streets were packed with pudgy Midwestern tourists, drunken locals, and Goth kids. Suicide Girls clones on balconies bared their breasts in exchange for cheap beads thrown by obnoxious frat boys. The streets were strewn with beads, plastic cups and fake doubloons thrown by “Krewe” members from their floats.  The first time I saw a white-masked Krewe on their float, all I could think was “They look like the Ku Klux Klan” (One night a friend and I were driving home from Metairie and we heard David Duke doing a radio talk show, so the racist element still exists in the Deep South.)  On Mardi Gras night one of the other souvenir shop sales clerks and I confiscated a bottle of cognac and celebrated. Then we slipped off to the main store through the wall-to-wall crowd on Bourbon Street with the day’s cash bounty stuck in envelopes tucked in our jeans. There were no armored trucks to pick up the cash here. Of course that night, no kids with guns hovered around the store.

The second or third week I lived in New Orleans, some new friends and I were going to Tipitina’s and they decided to take a detour. Hmm, I thought, glancing at the street signs, this is supposed to be a bad section of town. I’d read the warnings in a travel guidebook, but I figured, “Well, those folks live here. They would know for sure if a neighborhood were dangerous. WRONG! So we stop at a gas station and walk up to the cashier to get gum. I noticed a kid in a sweatshirt facing the booth. “What the hell is this guy doing?” I thought. I found out a second later when we had a gun pointed at our heads. The second time I got mugged I had the audacity to go to the grocery store at six-thirty at night.  A ten-year-old kid followed me on a bicycle, and then held me up at gunpoint. He got seven dollars, a lipstick, and a collection notice from the phone company. Kids would try to lure me away from the cash register at the stores where I worked, with their friends waiting outside to steal money and merchandise if I walked away from my post. I think I’ll stop there. It’s getting monotonous. New Orleans had 421 murders, the most in any U.S. city, in 1994, the year I moved there.  While the number had plummeted in recent years, it crept up in the months before Hurricane Katrina.

When New Orleans is rebuilt, I imagine the French Quarter and the Garden will be the same architecturally. Will Wal-mart and Toys R Us replace small, unique businesses in those quaint old buildings? Will the rest of the city become Las Vegas Jr. and suburbia USA? One thing is virtually certain. Crime can’t be any worse in the “new and improved” New Orleans than in the old one.

During a return visit to New Orleans, I saw a woman who still worked for the chain of souvenir shops. After I told her about the muggings, she asked, “Well, why did you stay so long after that? It was a boyfriend, right? Who was he?”

“Well, there were a couple of ‘em,” I answered sheepishly.

 Once I was safely ensconced back in New York reality, I had lunch with one of my friends, a classy, older woman, in a Manhattan bistro. “Do you have any pictures the people you met there?” she asked, after listening to my stories. “No,” I giggled, unable to resist a joke “but you might find some on posters in the post office!”

 I finally left when I couldn’t take the combination of a pointless retail job, endless Peyton Place type romantic scenarios, intermittent muggings and the lack of, well, accomplishment. One of my friends, a banquet waiter, said, “When are you going to leave? You have work to do. You don’t belong here.” I knew he was right. “Well, you wanted an adventure,” my Grandma said when I arrived back home “And you got one.” For me, New Orleans was a playground, but for others it was and is their home. They can rebuild all they want, but the spirit must remain the same for it to truly be New Orleans. We’ve seen horrific images on TV the past few weeks. Hundreds of body bags being carried out of flooded buildings, and the mass destruction of a major American city and personal loss of unimaginable magnitude. This isn’t the end of the story, though. Now we get to hear the usual political bickering, finger pointing, and the brouhaha over contracts to rebuild the city. Mardi Gras in the middle of that just not is the same. But diehard New Orleanians, whether they are quirky French Quarter types or lifelong residents, will surely give it their best try.

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For current local New Orleans information, go to:

www.nola.com

DVD Review: The Stitches Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003

DVD Review:

The Stitches

Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003

(Vinyl Dog)

Some information just endears the uninitiated to a band even if they know nothing about the group members or their music. Take, for example, the time I mentioned to a friend, “The Stitches, this punk band I like, once played a show in the parking lot of a Der Weinerschnitzel in Orange County. "Now they sound like my kinda guys," she responded, “I bet that was fun! I wish I'd been there."

The aforementioned concert, The Stitches : Live at Der Weinerschnitzel 2003, airborne chili dogs and all, is now available on DVD from the band's website.

The Stitches formed in 1994 in Orange County and  unique brand was one of the mainstays of the thriving skatepunk scene in 1990s Orange County. The band consists of singer Mike Lohrman, guitarist Johnny Witmer, bass player Pete Archer and drummer Craig “Skibs” Barker. The Stitches have been around since 1994, releasing several singles and EPs , two full-length albums (less is more!), and playing gigs for their loyal following around SoCal, along with occasional U.S. and European tours. The band’s live shows tend towards bona-fide punk rowdiness, with mosh pits, stage diving and the obligatory fight between audience members.

The DVD menu page is, appropriately enough, a Der Weinerschnitzel drive - through menu.  You can choose to view either concert only or the show footage with highlights of the crowd in the parking lot, which includes a kid with an elaborate green Mohawk and a Mom with little punk outfitted tots. The show footage begins with singer Mike Lohrman walks out with a Der Weinerschnitzel bag over his head. (Shades of the Unknown Comic?) After his intro, the bag disappears, and the band veers into a lighting-fast set. Then the chili dogs start flying - from the crowd onto the band and vice versa. It's not an ongoing barrage, but just enough for things to get a bit messy.  The show clocks in at 28 minutes and 43 seconds, including encores. But the Stitches put out more energy in that short set than some bands that play twice as long. The band segues through Cars of Today, Electroshock Carol, Pick Me Up and other songs from their second album, 12 Imaginary Inches and crowd favorites like My Baby Hates Me and a cover of That Woman’s Got Me Drinking, the Shane MacGowan and the Popes classic, from the manic debut 8 X 12. This is one of the Stitches best shows, and that's saying something cause they are all pretty damn good.

The "home-style" video footage really gives the viewer a sense of “being there.” Cameras need to go out of focus occasionally to get that feeling of being in the pit or at least near it. You need jittery close-ups of the cups on the ground and a close-up of the street sign hanging from the light pole. This slice-of-life approach really works for such a fun event.  

I also like how the camera from behind and focuses on the kids as much as the band. This typifies another interesting SoCal trait, where you find a lot of young kids with old-school punk Mohawks. Now you know their parents probably spent time at the Masque (or lesser known punk clubs) and helped give them fashion pointers.

Dreams and Shadows: A Film Review and an Interview with Director Tamarat Makonnen

Dreams and Shadows is a promising directional debut from Tamarat Makonnen. The movie is half-psychological drama, half-suspense thriller. It tells the story of an alienated teenage boy, Billy (played by Shawn-Caulin-Young) who works at a fast-food joint to support his paraplegic veteran father John (played by James Russo). Billy’s life is absolutely joyless. He’s bullied by local kids on his way from work and comes home to deal with his alcoholic, moody Dad. He entertains action fantasies about Samurais while alone in his bedroom to relieve his boredom with everyday life.  He has a girlfriend, Sarah (Natalie Garcia Fryman), a foster child with problems of her own. She is his only real-life friend, and they both dream of a way out of their dreary existence.

Billy strives to find out more about his mother, who died when he was quite young and banters back and forth emotionally with his Dad. Russo turns in a strong performance as the troubled Dad who camouflages a shocking secret. His character is at turns caring, irresponsible, violent and deceitful. One of his scenes with a prostitute who’s put-off by a sudden display of tenderness is especially heartbreaking.

The highlights of the film take place during the first half, where we get a sense of the characters backstory and Billy’s desire to change his life. Although the set-up is somewhat slow, it piques the viewer’s curiosity. We want to know more about what’s happened to John and how his wife died.

We get answers to these questions when the film veers from psychological drama into suspense thriller in the second half. This change in cinematic mood jolts the viewer into what seems like an entirely different film. It’s not a bad "second half", per se, it just doesn’t mesh well with the first part of Dreams and Shadows. As Billy learns about his Dad’s secret life and sets out for revenge, the film resembles a TV detective drama with a lot of twists and turns and characters who ultimately turn out to be more Mr. Hyde than Dr. Jekyll.

Makonnen’s script shows a keen knowledge of dialogue and character development until the revenge scenarios kick in. Even the pulp novel/detective drama portion of the film is well-paced and well-acted, though incongruous with the first half of Dreams and Shadows. Makonnen’s feature film debut shows a lot of potential. He is obviously a serious student of cinema and it’s apparent in this uneven but emotionally riveting film.

Interview with Dreams and Shadows Writer/Producer/Director Tamarat Makonnen

 JB- What is your film background?

TM- Well after attending Virginia Union University I went back home to New York where I cut my teeth working on all kinds of film projects. Commercials, features, documentaries everything. Picking the brains of any and everyone on set that would lend me an ear. I was a human sponge. Eventually I saved enough to buy a 16mm camera and began shooting short films. This was in the 90s so digital wasn't an option (laughter). 

JB- I read in your bio that you directed music videos before making Dreams and Shadows. What videos did you direct?

TM- I've directed videos for dead prez "Mind Sex", Boogiemonsters "The Beginning of the End" and most recently L.E.G.S "Journeyman". I've also directed videos and EPKs for artists like Luke, Lil Kim, C-Bo, Stone Rivers and Neyo, plus a few others.

JB-How did this serve as a springboard to making a feature film?

When possible I enjoyed incorporating narratives into the music videos that I directed. In that way the music video essentially becomes a short film. Also at the time labels were putting a significant amount of money into music videos. So in some cases you would have the same amount of equipment and crew members working on your video set as you would if you were shooting a feature film. It was great practice for what was to come.

JB- What inspired the screenplay for Dreams and Shadows?

TM-After moving to Los Angeles I began to focus more on my writing and Dreams and Shadows was one of those projects that had been lingering in my head for a while. When I started to write the script I knew I wanted to create characters that would haunt you later. Russo's character being confined to a wheelchair while his addictions and dark secrets tortured him was an intriguing premise to me.

As for the Billy character he's an outcast. Everyone knows an outcast. Their usually misunderstood for being different. I knew that the combination of the destructive father figure and the fragile son who's standing at a proverbial cliff would create an interesting scenario. Ultimately I wanted to create a claustrophobic existence for the audience to peer into. Sort of like looking into a snow globe filled with dirt and grime. You want to see the characters break the glass.

JB-What was the hardest scene to shoot (either technically or emotionally)?

TM- Technically the dream sequences where pretty challenging because of the elements. We shot those on a private ranch in Agua Dulce near Santa Clarita, California. It was about 100 degrees and steadicam operator was carrying the camera rig on him in this blistering weather in the middle of the forest. There was a lot of stop and go shooting because we wanted to make sure he stayed hydrated. It was tough but it all worked out.

Emotionally the scene where Billy returns home from his twisted revenge mission and he's crying in his dad's arms was intense. The actor Shawn-Caulin Young really took his time getting prepared for the scene and when we began shooting he just exploded. It was one take. He was totally exhausted afterward.

JB- Can you tell me about the casting process? How did you find the film’s stars, James Russo and Shawn-Caulin Young?

When Shawn walked in I didn't think he was right for the role physically but after his audition I began to look at him from a different angle. He brought an awkwardness and vulnerability to the character that was necessary. He's a talented actor and I'm sure you'll be seeing more of him in the future.

Russo is a veteran, the guy has worked opposite Robert De Niro. I heard through our casting director Neely Gurman that he was interested in the project so we set up a meeting. We had lunch and talked about the script, the character and what I was looking for from the actor who would play the part. He's a very passionate person and so am I so it worked out well.

JB-Are you working on any new film projects?

TM- I have another feature that I'm developing as well as a documentary that I will be directing this year.

JB- What films and directors have influenced you and why?

TM- Wow, it's so vast. Everything from Federico Fellini's "La Dolce Vita" to Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" to the Shaw Brothers' films. I'm big fan of the fantasy/action genres of the late 70s and 80s, Star Wars, Raiders of the Lost Ark, ET, etc. ... I truly believe that Lucas and Spielberg sparked the imaginations of an entire generation with those films. In recent years foreign films like Fernando Meirelles' "City of God" and the Swedish vampire film "Let the Right One In" really inspired me as well.

 

Book Review: Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla by Cherry Vanilla

Although not as well-known as her more mainstream contemporaries Pamela Des Barres and Cynthia Plaster Caster, Cherry Vanilla (born Kathleen Anne Dorritie) was arguably the most brazen and the most cerebral groupie of the swinging late ‘60s/’70s. Based on her chapter in Pamela Des Barres’ groupie round-up, Let’s Spend The Night Together, Chicago Review Press offered Cherry her own book contract and the result is Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla (by Way of the Copacabana, Madison Avenue, the Fillmore East, Andy Warhol, David Bowie and the Police) This raunchy and refreshingly honest memoir takes readers on a wild ride through two decades of hedonistic New York, from hippie happenings in Central Park to the punk clubs of Manhattan.

Groupie, though, was only part of Cherry’s job description. She worked for a Madison Avenue ad agency while barely out of high school, traveling the country on business trips as one of the first female radio/TV ad execs in the business. Folks in the real-life “Mad Men” days were every bit as horny and adventurous as rock stars, according to Cherry’s accounts of LSD use and “whipped cream parties” at Fire Island getaways.

It wasn’t long before Cherry took advantage of the burgeoning Lower Manhattan club scene, working as a DJ and mingling with models, actors, royalty and the Andy Warhol crowd. She starred in Warhol’s play Pork, appearing nude onstage in the British production. In between acting and DJing, she had flings with musicians Leon Russell, Kris Kristofferson, Burton Cummings of the Guess Who, and Shawn Phillips, who wrote two songs about her. Cherry’s most famous conquest, though, was David Bowie.

As his publicist and a major behind the scenes presence at MainMan Productions, the infamous glam-rock artist management company, she was instrumental in bringing Bowie and his music to the States. She was friends and business associates with him, first and foremost. However, when he finally suggested, “Come on, let’s go to bed,” Cherry followed through, despite having bandages on her thighs to cover carbuncles from bug bites. A potentially embarrassing situation became a fun, romantic romp.

Cherry in 2010

Cherry was Bowie’s PR person til MainMan was disbanded in 1974. Undaunted, Cherry entered the next phase of her career-as a solo artist for RCA records. She toured England with then unknown back-up musicians - Stewart Copeland and Sting - from a band called the Police. Her outrageous stage persona garnered her some scathing reviews in England, but her two albums, Bad Girl and Venus d’ Vinyl, have retained a cult following to this day. After she was dropped from RCA Records, Cherry hit hard times, and was even homeless for awhile. Now she lives in Hollywood and works for the composer Vangelis, still feisty as ever at 67.

Cherry Vanilla’s exploits are fun-and somewhat exhausting (in a good way) to read. Was there anything this woman didn’t do? Groupie, poet, publicist, journalist, fashion icon, Warhol protégé and actress, ad agency exec and sexual provocateur, it’s surprising that Cherry Vanilla’s story fits into a mere 288-page book! The memoir isn’t all fun and titillation, however, as Cherry frankly discusses her battles with OCD, near disasters with bad drugs and bad men (including one harrowing encounter with a creepy sadist), abortions and sexual addiction.

Lick Me is a rollicking visit back to the days when the whole creative “counterculture” seemed to coalesce into a few miles in Manhattan (and London). It’s a great memory-jogger for kids who came of age reading Creem and watching the 1980 Floor Show on the Midnight Special.

Cherry Vanilla Official Website

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/books/article/book-review-lick-me-how-i/#ixzz1D98ZX4YC

Music Review: Baby Scream: Self-Titled CD

The self-titled CD by Argentine rockers Baby Scream takes clean power pop and classic rock, then adapts a John Lennon vocal style and binds them together with top-notch production. This CD is Baby Scream’s ninth album since 2002. (The band has existed in one form or another since 2001.) Baby Scream is one band that will certainly never run short on inspiration.

Baby Scream is the brainchild of vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Juan Pablo Mazzola. His brand of Beatles met Cheap Trick pop traverses genres for a sound that defies typecasting. On Jekyll & Hyde, Mazzola channels Strawberry Fields Forever, with just the slightest hint of prog/space rock added in to complete the trippy vibe. The lilting The Ghosts of Valerie (with guest guitarist Eric Dover from Alice Cooper’s band) sounds like a 1980s “skinny tie” band hit filtered through a 1960s one-hit soft psychedelic sound – think of the Peppermint Rainbow’s Are You Staying After Sunday?

Nipone, the lullaby that ends the album, has a Japanese-influenced sound that becomes as haunting as it is gorgeous as the song progresses.  Exile has a Revolver feel with especially dreamy vocals.  

Watching the End of the World (On TV) shares a kinship with Bowie's Five Years ,but after a mellow start, the song revs up to high gear, chugging along like a finely-tuned machine. Along with vocalist/guitarist Mazzola, the band consists of lead guitarist Hernán Pascual, bass player Raul Marcos, and drummer Claudio Salas. 

Baby Scream has a trippy psychedelic vibe -- call it acoustic psych/power pop, if you really need to label it. The acoustic guitar sound on this CD has a ballsy passion you won’t find in any music with the partial description “folk” The ten songs on Baby Scream have a timeless sound that could fit in with rock music playlists from the ‘60s, ‘70s or early ‘80s.

CD Review: Sci-Fi Romance: ...and surrender my body to the flames

Los Angeles based singer-songwriter Vance Kotrla is a man of many talents. He once played drums for death metal band Black Spiral and formed his own production company, Broken Image Entertainment, shortly after graduating from high school. Now he has turned his attention to music, releasing a solo CD, ..and surrender my body to the flames, under the moniker Sci-fi Romance. The name was inspired by a review of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which described the film as a “sci-fi romance.”

…and surrender my body to the flames has already placed on a Best of 2010 list from a Dutch music blog. Even a cursory listen to the eleven tracks on the CD (also available via digital download on Bandcamp), will help you understand why this debut effort received such an accolade. The songs explore themes of love and loss with a sound that can best be described as “alt-folk.” The lyrics, which appear on the Windows Media Player screen as you listen to each track, have a melancholy literary bent to them. It’s somber Nick Cave meets Joseph Heller with a screening of Metropolis in the background. Fittingly, Kotrla has complied public domain footage from science-fiction films to accompany the songs on …and surrender my body. You can watch the videos on his YouTube channel or the Sci-fi Romance website.

Frankenstein’s Lament, with its haunting female background vocals and sparse acoustic guitar, is told from Dr. Frankenstein’s point of view as the angry villagers rebel against his creation. These Scars, combines a love song about emotional pain and a sci-fi tale of impending death. Kotrla channels a bit of Type O-Negative here, that is, if Type-O had a more intellectual approach to their lyrics. The wistful Long Gone looks back at youthful mistakes, while In the Dark Together conjures up visions of two young lovers on the road in a desert town, vowing to stick together no matter what fate bestows upon them.

…and surrender my body to the flames is an unusual combination of poetic lyrics and old-school science fiction imagery. Vance Kotrla’s main strength here lies in his words, and the mostly acoustic music serves as a conveyance to reveal the emotions and storyline.

Sci-Fi Romance Facebook Page

CD Review:EZ Tiger

EZ Tiger, a three-piece alt rock band from L.A.,. features singer/guitarist Tina DiGeorge, bass player Anna Rosales and drummer Kristy McGinnis. On their self-titled debut CD, this trio creates a sound that’s more pop/rock than indie hipster. Some of the songs,  like the haunting Any Other Day and Stay, a lovely pop ballad that would definitely earn the term “radio-friendly” in the days when radio actually played good music,. remind me of hit tunes from  many late  90s pop/rock bands Groups like Everclear, Dishwalla and  Del Amitri produced  catchy songs that were just “right” – they weren’t entirely light rock, but not really alternative either. EZ Tiger’s music has this same template. Their songs have clear melodies, concise lyrics that can appeal to a wide range of listeners without seeming too diluted, and strong, appealing vocals That’s not hard to fathom when you find our EZ Tiger was produced by Brian Wilson’s keyboardist Scott Bennett..  The songs ring through flawlessly, with an even-handed mix that doesn’t favor any aspect of the material over another.

Don’t let the Dishwalla reference make you think EZ Tiger doesn’t offer some outright, in-your-face rock. The best song on the CD, Dancing for Dimes, has a menacing punk rhythm and a tasty guitar outro by DiGeorge.  It demonstrates that EZ Tiger can turn up the heat and channel the Buzzcocks as convincingly as they can perform sweeter, more introspective  material. Last One In has a wonderful, danceable energy to it with a bit of a ‘60s Mod vibe.

EZ Tiger is a pleasant surprise. Their songs aren’t tied to any one genre or fad – they stand on their own. The band plays at the Redwood Bar in downtown L.A. on February 13^th..

Music Review: Sorrows - Bad Times Good Times

After the demise of the Beatles-influenced Poppees in 1976, the band’s guitar player Arthur Alexander and drummer Jett Harris formed a new band, Sorrows (just “Sorrows, no “the”) , which ratcheted the Poppees sound up to 11 by adding a power pop feel and a tougher guitar riffs. The new band featured Alexander on vocals and guitar, Harris on drums, Joey Cola on guitar and vocals, and Ricky Street on bass and vocals. They were signed to CBS/Pavilion Records in 1979, near the height of power pop mania.

Sorrows music is fun guitar pop with an edge, totally in kinship with other power pop bands  like The Beat and 20/20, but they have more of a rock edge ala the Flamin Groovies. As far as music biz lore goes, Sorrows have a lot more in common with early power pop brethren Blue Ash. Both bands were undervalued by their record company and dropped from the label after their second album.

Luckily, in 2010, artists don’t need to depend on nearsighted record executives to market their music to the masses. Keep in mind, Bad Times Good Times consists of previously unreleased songs, not a repackaging of their CBS albums. When the band broke up, vinyl copies of Teenage Heartbreak and Love Too Late became collectors’ items, as CBS never released the albums as CDs. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Armed with original demos and some unreleased tracks (some of them saved from a dumpster outside NYC’s MediaSound Studios). Alexander went into a L.A. studio and reworked the songs. Bad Times Good Times (Bomp Records), a collection of 14 studio songs and two live tunes, was the result.

The title track kicks off the album with a raucous guitar, followed by the foot-tappin, power pop melody of Can’t You Tell a Lie. The song has a layer of hard-edged, twangy guitar underneath. This effortless combination of power pop, pure rock ‘n’ roll guitar and punk attitude fused together gives Sorrows music a raunchy edge many skinny tie bands lacked, and it’s evident throughout the CD. Can’t Go Back shakes and bakes crystal-clear harmonies with jangly guitar and infectious melody. The frenetic rockabilly of That’s Your Problem quickens the pace. She Comes and Goes , the lone “slow” ballad (well except for a soaring, arena rock worthy bridge) is, about a melancholy lost girl who lives to go to rock shows A cello interlude by Jisoo Ok adds a lovely touch to the proceedings.

In the liner notes Barry Dreyfus describes one of the band’s sets at CBGB’s as a “total sonic assault.” The two live songs on Bad Times, Good Times verify that. A cover of the Stones "Off The Hook" adapts a rockabilly twang at the start and veers into straight-out rock. Carole King’s "Chains" becomes a ballsy, cathartic rocker.

Alexander has said that Sorrows’ music is like “Abba meets the Sex Pistols”. That concept may first strike you as an oxymoron, but when you hear Bad Times Good Times, you’ll realize it’s absolutely plausible, and it makes for some boisterous - and timeless - power pop songs.

Keith’s “Life”, My Stones “Brush with Greatness” and Fangirl Memories

To comedians, Keith Richards has become an endearing punchline. (I’m partial to the Jay Leno line “Why can’t we make planes the way we make Keith?"). And it’s not hard to understand why. Between Keith’s gnarled old pirate looks,  the cigarette perpetually dangling from his mouth as he plays guitar, and the all the  legendary songs he’s written or co-written - songs  that have become intertwined in the fabric of everyday life - it’s a little hard to fully envision the man behind the myth. Sometimes it’s difficult to see where the caricature ends and the real person begins. But despite this larger than life persona, Keith’s survived to tell the tale when many of his contemporaries haven’t. We all know the basic storyline, but now Keith himself fills us in on the truth behind five decades of debauchery and rock ‘n’ roll.    

Keith’s autobiography “Life” is, above all else, funny, insightful and poignant. Even though the most widely reported sections of the book have to do with “Mick’s tiny “todger” and the infighting between Keith and Mick, (known less affectionately as “Brenda” for his sometime diva-ish behavior.), the best part of the book is…everything!  Life is 547 pages long, and you don’t want to miss anything, not even the less sensational, non-sex and drugs portions. If you’re one of the few people who haven’t read Life yet, I don’t want to spoil it for you by revealing too much. Keith’s candid witticisms and casual but poignant observations about people and events are a pleasant surprise, and there’s a great one every few pages that will make you smile. About Mick’s fling with Anita, Keith writes. “Anita was a piece of work. She probably broke his back.” He writes of being left behind by a limo in the mid-'60s, surrounded by rabid teen-age girls, as the rest of the band sped away. Of the teen hysteria that besieged bands at that time, he notes, “The power of teenage females of thirteen, fourteen, fifteen when they’re in a gang has never left me. They nearly killed me…You’d rather be in a trench fighting the enemy than to be faced with this unstoppable killer wave of lust and desire or whatever it is - it’s unknown even to them.”

Keith writes of reuniting with his Dad Bert, who lived in the back of a pub for years after divorcing his Mum. Upon their meet-up in 1982, Dad’s comment about Keith’s outrageous rock star behavior was” You’ve been a bit of a bugger, haven’t you?” And Keith didn’t really snort Dad’s ashes…well, not on purpose, anyhow.  We learn that Keef and Anita’s seven year old son Marlon served as his Dad’s caretaker on the 1976 European tour, waking him up in time for shows and keeping him out of trouble. We learn that Keith met Patti Hansen, the love of his life, at Studio 54 while trying to escape Britt Ekland, who was stalking him at the time.

Even if you’re not a Stones fan, you’ll end up liking and respecting Keith after reading Life.  And if you’re a Stones fan, you’ll find out he’s even cooler than you originally thought.

The book brought back so many memories of my teenage fascination with the Stones. Life opens with Keith’s 1975 bust in Arkansas - over a hunting knife, they said. The ‘75 tour was the height of my fandom. I clearly remember all the news stories about that bust and the comedy of errors that ensued afterward. I discovered the Stones when I was 11, through Sticky Fingers and Brown Sugar. I remember walking into the local Turn-Style store (the early ‘70s version of Target) to buy a copy of the single. Turn-Style sold singles shrink-wrapped onto a piece of cardboard. The song names were stamped on  the cardboard in big block letters, along with the title of the flipside in smaller letters. The flipside of Brown Sugar was Bitch. Ooops! A naughty word. I couldn’t let my Dad see that – he might nix my purchase, and I had to have that record.

I told my Dad I’d pay for the record myself.  I headed to the cashier, in my purple crushed velvet coat and the white tam 'o shatter my Grandma knitted for me.  My Dad made small talk with the cashier as I paid for the record. Neither of them noticed the offending title. I was home free! And you can imagine what occurred when I first saw the album live and in person in the LP bin. Well, the record store manager had to replace some shrink wrap that night.

My Stones “Brush With Greatness”

Fast-forward to senior year of high school. There was a picture of Keith in Hit Parader wearing a pink shirt with a wind machine blowing his hair, the whole deal. Yes, Keith was Hit Parader’s rock star pin-up of the month.. This was 1978, the last year any stylist could get away with trying to make him look even remotely sexy.

And his famous skull ring was prominently displayed. I wanted one! I discovered Aleister Crowley because of Jimmy Page and Ayn Rand because of the Rush album 2112, and biker skull rings because of Keith.   

Now in 1978, there were no Internet biker ring warehouses, no Target or Hot Topic to supply skull and crossbones rings for suburban teenage girls. I took the bus to the local bikers’ store when the rock ‘n’ roll head shops I visited were bereft of skull rings.

They didn’t have ladies sizes and I have tiny fingers. The grizzled old South Side bikers found this quite amusing. “I don’t think they make this ring in petite sizes,” one of them laughed. “”Maybe you could put it on a chain and wear it as a necklace.”

The Stones played Chicago's Soldier Field in the summer of 1978. Since it was general admission, I could weasel my way to the front of the stage. I cut class to buy my ticket the day they went on sale, and was one of the first people on the field before the concert started. However, as anyone who has spent more than a few minutes standing in the middle of crowded outdoor venue can tell you, it ain’t a pleasant experience. Between the heat and the boredom, I couldn’t take it, and elbowed my way off the field and into the stands, looking for a spare seat. Unfortunately, the show was sold out – down to the nosebleed seats.

 One of my fave posters from junior high.

I happened upon one of my friends, a co-worker from Montgomery Wards, sitting in a cordoned off section way up high in the stands, which had been reserved for radio station contest winners. She snobbily rebuffed me. I traipsed around the stadium while the opening bands played, encountering  drunken, grabby guys, enterprising small-time drug dealers and one helpful soft-drink vendor who tried to help me figure out Soldier Field schematics so I could get backstage. None of it worked.  Finally, I went back to join the dopes standing by the front of the stage. I jumped off one of the barricades between the seats and the field. The drop was several feet, but I was a springy 18 year old, so I could handle it. It was a long drop but I made it so I was back full circle, standing at the front of the stage. I staked my spot about three rows back.  I could see everyone in the band but Charlie.

Spurred on by the exhilaration of getting so close to the boys, and by the pot and beer I’d accepted from iterant bystanders on my trek around the stadium, I waved to Keith. A sweet, totally fangirl move. Keith looked right at me and smiled, then turned to Ronnie and whispered in his ear. Then, they both looked straight at me and smiled.

I was so happy I almost burst. They returned to their playing and I turned my attention back to Mick. Imagine, Mick prancing around doing his thing two inches away from you. It was awesome yet kind of freaky at the same time.

So that was my Stones “Brush with Greatness” My original coverage of the concert, typed on an electric Smith-Corona I nicknamed “Pervert”, is long gone. I remember it being funny as hell and it got me a gig with my college newspaper, the Columbia Chronicle, aka the Chronic, as my friends and I christened it.

That was the last time I saw the Stones in concert. The next time they toured, in 1981, I was in college, living in Lakeview, and going to punk shows at Tuts. No more big stadium shows for me. I was all growed up. I had moved on, musically speaking, but I always return to the Stones every now and then. Everybody has a band that brings back happy memories of their formative years, and for me, the Stones were that band.

Married to Rock: Rock 'n' Roll Wives Star in New Reality Series

Well, I knew it was bound to happen one day. After years of ignoring reality TV shows (or watching small clips for writing assignments), I have joined the ranks of otherwise intelligent women who turn into cackling hens when discussing the exploits of botoxed reality show housewives.

It all started when my BFF told me I should make an exception to my reality show ban and watch something called  Married to Rock. “You’ll like it,” she said, “it’s about rock stars and their wives.” She then proceeded to tell me she liked the most outrageous, big-boobed wife on the show. “The other wives make fun of her, but she’s got a cute personality,” my friend said.  “Uh-huh,” I responded, visualizing the wife of some third-tier metal guy or a bimbo married to a guy from a bland and allegedly popular group like Nickelback or The Fray. “So who are the rock stars?” I asked, disinterested.  She then managed to remember one of the names – Steve Stevens. “He is Billy Idol’s guitarist,” I said, dumbfounded. Upon further interrogation, I discovered that the rest of the cast consisted of  Duff McKagan (Guns ‘N’ Roses, Velvet Revolver) and his wife Susan, an ex-model and swimwear designer, Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction) and his wife Etty, one of  the band’s former backup dancers,  Steve Stevens and his wife Josie (the aforementioned big-boobed wife with a cute personality) and most perplexing to me, Billy Duffy of the Cult and his girlfriend, a VIP hostess named AJ Celi. (I’m a big Cult fan, and I always got the impression Billy was a guy who wanted to keep his offstage life private). None of these couples seemed to fulfill the normal “brain-dead and obnoxious” template for reality show couples. My curiosity piqued, I checked out some highlights.

-Josie has a “love doll” made of herself and sends it to Steve on tour.
-  AJ attempts to cook dinner for Billy (with her Dad’s assistance) and fails miserably.

-  Etty auditions dancers to find her replacement for the Jane’s Addiction tour.

-   The girls take Susan to Trashy Lingerie to get her to dress sluttier.

Not exactly the A-1 primo catfights we’ve come to expect from reality TV housewives. I actually found all the couples to be likable, which doesn’t normally guarantee ratings gold for reality shows. Since the show debuted on E! in early November, the full verdict isn’t in on ratings and viewer commentary yet. However, I rather like the fact that a group of reality show women are portrayed as friends more than “frenemies” to be refreshing.

Married To Rock on E! Entertainment Television

CD Review: The Like: Release Me

I first saw  L.A. girlgroup The Like perform at a Christmas shindig thrown by Indie 1031 in 2005 . At that time, their songs were well-constructed and had catchy melodies, but there wasn’t much else to distinguish them from the crop of  indie-pop bands battling for airplay in the mid-2000s.

The Like‘s first CD  Are You Thinking What I’m Thinking? gained some airplay on Indie1031 and other alt-rock outlets. The female trio consisted of singer Z Berg , drummer Tennessee Thomas  and original bass player Charlotte Froom. Rock critics made a point of noting that the young women, barely out of their teens,, were the daughters of music industry bigwigs. Their paternal connections may have helped the band get their bearings, but their songs proved they had the raw talent to make it on their own.

Five years have passed and the band has reinvented itself. Bassist Charlotte Froom left, and was replaced by Laena Geronimo. They bulked up their sound by adding organ player Annie Monroe. The line-up changes aren’t the only difference. On the Like’s second album, Release Me,  the band has turned things up to 11 and redefined their mission by implementing a retro 60s pop sound. It comes complete with pitch-perfect Ronettes’ harmonies, Vox organ flourishes, and feisty lyrics about cheating boyfriends and one-night stands. 

Producer Mark Ronson, who guided Amy Winehouse to success on Back to Black, helped transform The Like from a so-so alt-pop band to a gutsy garage-rock outfit. Think of an updated, all-female version of the Easybeats or the Zombies. The lyrics on Release Me, much like the lyrics on Winehouse’s  Back in Black show a maturity unusual for the frothy four minute mod pop. From “Narcissus in a Red Dress" - “One minute, she's your best friend/Then you watch her take your place/I guess that taught them all the same/You clever little charlatans/Ambition gleams in overdrive”  

Songs run the gamut from the gauzy arrangement of “Narcissus in a Red Dress” to the roaring, Donnas-influenced rock of “Wishing He Was Dead.” “Why When Love is Gone” sounds like a soulful Dusty Springfield number, with a sturdy but subtle rhythm section guilelessly carrying the song.

 Release Me packs a retro 60s Mod punch, but the band also delivers live. Clips of their show from the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London demonstrate a newfound onstage confidence. Z Berg now has her own take on the sassy rock ‘n’ roll girl who don’t take no b.s. With her short blonde bob, eyeliner and heavy fake eyelashes she mimics “60s model Twiggy, but her vocals are part Shangri-La attitude, part smooth Bangles-era Susanna Hoffs.

Drummer Tennessee Thomas provides the vigorous backbeat, and has a blast doing it..the girls have matured and added the right touches to their initial indie-pop formula, spicing it up with Vox organ, girl-group harmonies and grown-up storylines. And they’ve traded Are You Thinking’s  PG-rated version of kinderwhore waif dresses to geometric print mini-dresses completing the transition from alt-pop princesses to retro-60s rock divas. 

Music Review: Cowboy Junkies - Renmin Park: (The Nomad Series: Volume 1)

Renmin Park, the first of four concept albums in the Cowboy Junkies “Nomad” series, is based on songwriter/guitarist Michael Timmins’ visit to China. He and his family adopted two Chinese children, and spent time taking in the culture and music of the country. The title refers to a public park in Zhengzhou, a city in the Henan province.

The Cowboy Junkie’s signature bluesy alt-folk sound blends with lyrics about everyday life and history of China. The album’s intro veers from sounds of a parade into the acoustic title track. Michael's sister, Margo Timmins, lends pensive vocals to bring the lyrics, a description of daily activities in “Renmin Park” to life. There are unusual sound bits through the entire CD. The improbably titled “Sir Francis Bacon at the Net” has snippets of a badminton game underscoring Michael Timmins' psychedelic-flavored but-folky vocals. “A Few Bags of Grain” is a world-weary tale of man recently released from a labor camp and his introduction to “A world gone insane.”

Hazy, sparse keyboards and a judiciously-used string quartet, add the finishing touch to this ambient slice of alt-rock meets Chinese culture. Renmin Park is nice to listen to in small increments, but it’s got that bluesy introspection and the backdrop of Chinese oppression and change don’t make for a toe-tapping time. The downbeat mood does change with “Stranger Here”. It has a hummable melody that would fit right in beside any mainstream rock tune. The lyrics describe a man’s spiritual struggle, “And I could tell you about the evening/that I was out drinking/and fell asleep by the well/I am the righteous man/the one you’re looking for/I am a stranger here”

Renmin Park features a reworking of two Chinese pop song. Composer Xu Wei’s tale of long-distance heartbreak. The lilting "My Fall” translates well into the Junkies’misty, melancholy style. Zuoxiao Zuzhou ‘s “I Cannot Sit Sadly By Your Side” combines haunting piano work throughout, a hint of native Chinese instrumentation, and a crescendo of electric guitar near the end to portray a tale of intrigue and murder. “Little Dark Heart “is a lullaby to loneliness, beginning with the lyrics “It’s a funny start / but I have no home / I have no name / I have no one / Except this little dark heart.” In the hands of a less accomplished band, it would be sorrowful overkill, but the Timmons siblings make it work. The confident strut of “(You’ve Got to Get) a Good Heart” provides a respite from Renmin Park’s mostly pensive tunes for 4 minutes and 27 seconds.

A musical journey to China that meshes well with the Cowboy Junkie’s normal modus operandi, Renmin Park is one of the band’s most ambitious projects to date.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/music/article/music-review-cowboy-junkies-renmin-park/page-2/#ixzz15ZoPRiJT

Bad Music Programming Killed the Radio Star – But the Internet (and Jonesy’s Jukebox) Pick Up the Slack

Terrestrial radio is now pretty much relegated to teenie-bopper nonsense, bad hip-hop, and talk shows dedicated to  political bickering. So where can a bona fide rock music connoisseur go to escape the overexposed and lowest common denominator sounds of Kanye West, Katy Perry, and Lady Gaga? Why, to the Internet – and to KROQ-FM  - at least on Sunday nights for the reconstituted Jonesy’s Jukebox.

Jonesy is back on KROQ and it's kinda ironic since his former station, Indie 1031, was supposed to knock KROQ out on its butt five years ago. Indie's ascent didn't last, however, and the company's owner, Entravision, pulled the plug on the punk/alt rock format in 2009.   The terrestrial station continues on FM in a Spanish-language format, while the punk/hip alt rock music still flows freely on the Internet. 

Jonesy’s new  Jukebox is on KROQ on Sunday nights 7 p. m. to 9 p.m. Pacific Time. His old partner-in-crime, Mr. Shovel, joins him as producer. The playlist so far lacks the quirky novelty songs and obscure 1970s glam rock of  the old Indie shows. It concentrates on electronica and post-2000 indie rock, like Julian Casablancas, Daft Punk, the Duke Spirit and Black Keys. But there’s the occasional local L.A. band find (Fitz & the Tantrums), and songs by Jonesy favorites like Eno and Primal Scream.

Another respite from the mostly non-existent rock radio landscape can be found on Internet radio oasis ErrorFM. You can find any kind of music here (just like Sirius/XM Satellite Radio), but you don’t have to shell out money to listen. DJs include ex KMET and KLOS staff announcer Larry Woodside, Alan Lohr (BuddhaMan, as mentioned in the previous post on Dolly Rocker Movement) formerly of KROQ. The specialty shows on ErrorFM run the gamut from Pod Zepplin and Floydian Slip to Electrique (electonica) and Donthink ( trip-hop). Every type of music you can think of (and some you haven’t) are offered by freelance DJs from all over the world.

One of the most popular shows on ErrorFM is Cyril’s Hollywood Jukebox, hosted by Cyril A. Ruth, one of the founding members of New Orleans punk band the Normals.  The two-hour show is streamed live on ErrorFM’s Channel 2 on Thursday nights from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. A recent show featured New York glam, garage, punk and psychedelic bands of the past and present, including the New York Dolls, Fleshtones and new bands London Egg, The Choke and The Above. One of the highlights of the show is a weekly mini-concert featuring a 15-20 minute segment of a live concert. The New York show featured The Chesterfield Kings.  

Dolly Rocker Movement : Trippy Psych-Pop with Panache

Originally from Sydney, Australia, the home of many kickin’ garage rock and psychedelic rock bands, the Dolly Rocker Movement imported its layered  psychedelia to America via a recent stint in Hollywood. (The band played the International Pop Overthrow in L.A.in August). Lead singer/songwriter Daniel Darling formed the band in 2002. Since then, they’ve released three full-length albums and 2 EPs, (with more on the way). Darling recently appeared on the Internet radio station ErrorFM, playing live tunes on the“Buddhaman  International Experience” show., including the new tunes I Drive a Mustang and A Corner Conversation.

The Dolly Rocker Movement builds on retro psych pop with harpsichords, trippy, feather-light, female vocals, synthesizers, folk-oriented acoustic guitars and twangy surfer-rock riffs. DRM’s well-constructed songs experiment with different tempos & vocal presentations, veering from Velvet Underground and Pink Floyd  orchestrations to straightforward fuzzy-guitar rockers.  I’ll be reviewing their CDs in a future post.

You can read an interview with Daniel on Ripple Music. 

The Crazy Squeeze - Glam & Punk Rock from the Heart of Hollywood

The members of Hollywood glam-punk band The Crazy Squeeze logged time with Teenage Frames (Frankie Delmane, guitar/vocals/keyboards), the Stitches (Johnny Witmer, guitar/vocals), Superbees, ( Johnny Sleeper, drums/vocals) and Richmond Sluts (Chris Beltran, bass). Judging by that resumé, you know the band has the chops to deliver some badass rock.  From the crunchy chords that begin All Lies to the catchy power-pop melody of With A Girl Like That, every song is an upbeat slice of sleazy, '70s glam rock influences and gritty punk. A fun live band that will keep you moving on the club floor, Crazy Squeeze’s sound is part Slade, part Dolls and all attitude. The band’s currently in the studio recording their debut CD.

The Crazy Squeeze plays The Redwood Bar in downtown L.A. on November 20th with The Red Roses and The Commotion.

http://www.myspace.com/thecrazysqueeze

http://www.facebook.com/thecrazysqueeze
 
Single available from Rapid Pulse Records

Fave Local L.A. Bands - The Ruby Friedman Orchestra

When you take a skilled female vocalist and back her up with talented rock musicians, that combo can get lost in crowd if it’s not peppered with that “something extra.” After all, how many hotel lounge bands and “American Idol” contestants have trained voices, good back-up musicians, and no pizzazz?

The L.A. based Ruby Friedman Orchestra takes the above-mentioned formula and shakes ‘n’ bakes it into a bluesy rock spectacle. There are a few things that differentiate redheaded sparkler Ruby from the current crop of “technically adept” female vocalists. Ruby has a sharp sense of humor and quirky intelligence that comes through in her songwriting and live performances.  (Some of her songs concern subjects as diverse as transcendental meditation and suicide.) Ruby draws from a variety of musical influences. Bessie Smith is one of her vocal idols. And one of  RFO’s show-stoppers in concert is a soulful cover of the Beatles  “I Want You (She’s So Heavy).”

RFO plays L.A. haunts like the Hotel Café, the Mint , and the Echo, where Ruby’s voice alone seems too big for the venue. Bigger things are on the horizon, though.  The band’s song “Shooting Stars” was prominently featured on this year’s promos for the TV show “America’s Got Talent.” A fave of legendary DJ  Rodney Bingenheimer, RFO’s song “Burning Skies” has also rated highly with listeners of KROQ’s “Locals Only” show.  The band’s currently recording a full-length CD.

The Ruby Friedman Orchestra plays Friday, November 12, 2010 at the Sunset Room (behind Amoeba Records) in Hollywood.

http://www.myspace.com/rubyfriedman

CD Review: Reunited by The Jazz Passengers

The Jazz Passengers first came to prominence in the mid-1990s when they released In Love and Individually Twisted with Debbie Harry contributing vocals on certain cuts.  But they’re more than a backing band for a punk chanteuse. The band formed in New York City in 1987 with a mission to make jazz fun without compromising form or musicianship. Debbie’s guesting with the band again on Reunited, their first album since 1997’s Live in Spain.

The CD opens with Elvis Costello singing an original composition by the Passengers’ Roy Nathanson called “Wind Walked By.” It  begins with a conventional jazz vocal, then unfastens into a lazy, discordant vibe that frazzles the listener with a cacophony of horns only a freeform lover can truly appreciate. The lyrics reference “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?” and echo current economic woes with lines like “Time’s is hard now/I lost my home.” The back and forth bohemian approach is the Jazz Passengers trademark. If their goal is to make jazz music interesting and unpredictable, they’ve achieved it. Really, most modern vocal jazz music is nothing more than a skilled vocalist singing torch songs with piano and an occasional horn section.

The cover of Peaches and Herb’s disco hit “Reunited” is barely recognizable until the chorus, between the plucky strings and hush-hush vocals. (And was that a dj scratching a vinyl record in there somewhere?) with discordant horns thrown here and there for good measure. This is the antithesis of the smooth disco original. Vocalist/ sax player Roy Nathanson and Passengers’ trombonist Curtis Fowlkes trade wry, half-sung, half-spoken vocals. It’s the musical equivalent of a Cubist painting, taking elements and rearranging them in unusual and sometimes grating juxtapositions.

Debbie Harry’s contributions close out the CD. She lends a smooth and straightforward vocal interpretation to “Think of Me”, the most mainstream cut on Reunited. Her second song  is a hit-or-miss reworking of “One Way or Another” that starts out strong, but gets too “busy” near the end.

The bulk of this CD can be truly enjoyed only by avant-garde jazz aficionados. Reunited has a modern Beatnik vibe, like an Uptown ode to Dave Brubeck and Ella Fitzgerald. You can almost hear Jack Kerouac reading from “On the Road” over some of the instrumental interludes. Those unaccustomed to Bohemian jazz may find it amusing here and there, but it’s too “all over the place” for casual listeners- unless you live in a West Village apartment with bongos and a fireplace.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/music/article/music-review-the-jazz-passengers-reunited1/#ixzz14lxmd7nL

DVD Review: Anything Boys Can Do: A Music Documentary by Ethan Minsker

 

Anything Boys Can Do, is a gritty portrait of female punk and alternative musicians in 1990s New York City. Released in 1996 by filmmaker Ethan Minkser of the Antagonist Arts Movement, the young women in this film infiltrate the Lower East Side and other artsy haunts of Manhattan with performances that are way beyond underground. Even the band names (except for the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black)  might be unknown to anyone but New York scenesters of the time. The NYC alternative punk girls of the ‘90s were known for extremes in message and looks. They weren’t family or celebrity friendly like today’s “punks.” 

The girls from “Thrust” perform what looks like a “secret” show in a parking lot, playing thrashy music and simulating sex acts while partially clothed. Tribe 8 plays rough pro-lesbian, pro-feminist grunge, Sexpod, perhaps the most musically adept band in the documentary, has a lazy, bluesy tinge to their songs. Kembra  Pfahler of the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black performs topless in her signature horror movie make-up and body paint, growling/screeching/singing and engaging in all types of antics. She does a headstand while a member of her troupe cracks an egg over her vulva. By the time this happens, we’re so immune to the noise and nudity it’s neither shocking nor titillating. It’s just part of the show. Actually, I think I’d be shocked if I ever saw Kembra onstage with her breasts fully covered. This 71-minute film delves deeply into the aspects of the bands' struggles with making it in the male-dominated music world  as well as some of their personal struggles. This isn’t documentary “lite” – it really gets under its subjects’ skin.