Schedule

Sun 1: 9-4
Tue 3: 3-9:30
Thur 5: 4:45-cl
Fri 6: 4:45-cl

Happy Halloween!

And what better way to celebrate than the long overdue knighting of 87-year-old actor Christopher Lee. That's right, bitches. Edward Cullen can suck it.

But I might wind up spending the evening watching Lee in the 1973 classic The Wicker Man instead, because I do so love that movie. And please, do not watch the Nicolas Cage version that came out three years ago. Just.... don't.

Quisp Grrl, Holla!

Is he or is he not? Rumored-to-be-dead legendary punk drummer Chuck Biscuits may keep us guessing, but the man sure knows where he stands on his breakfast cereals.

Last Will And Temperment

It's been ages since I've seen this guy! But it's nice to see that he's still stirring the pot out there somewhere. San Francisco, apparently.

Dee Allen was a local poet who used to haunt the Hampton Roads music scene in the late 80's/early 90's, or at least I knew of him when I was involved, I suppose. When Joe used to book and DJ the Nsect Club in Hampton he was always there, wide-eyed and nervous, skinny and forever hunched in heavy hoodies and wool skull caps, no matter what the weather. He would crawl into the DJ booth with Joe and hand him his latest poem, typically decorated along the borders in his distinct graffiti-style. Unusual guy. Rarely says much but has an odd manner of speech when he does. But his poetry was striking. I wouldn't be surprised if I still have some of his poetry in old boxes with all my other mementos from that time in my life.



It also just occurred to me that Dee sounds an awful lot like Eugene Levy's character from A Mighty Wind. Not saying that Dee's crazy or anything. Well, that is... ahem.

No Place Left To Land

First 20 tracks on my iTunes feeling a little sad about finally giving up my old desk at work.

1. "Everybody But Myself" - The Fall
2. "Balloon Man" - Robyn Hitchcock
3. "Deep Bosom Woman" - Wayne
4. "Deep Inside You" - Gloria Taylor
5. "Pablo Picasso" - Burning Sensations
6. "Feurio!" - Einstürzende Neubauten
7. "Get Down Lenny" - Vastless Smudge
8. "Song 2" - Blur
9. "Come Through" - Endle St. Cloud
10. "Fuck The People" - The Kills
11. "Do You Really Want To Hurt Me" - Culture Club
12. "Dragon Chasers (feat. Charlotte Savary)" - Wax Tailor
13. "Get Up On This" - She Rockers
14. "Splinter In Her Head" - The Cure
15. "Out All Night" - The Pietasters
16. "You Are My Sunshine" - Ray Charles
17. "Can't Wait One Minute More" - Civ
18. "Since You Caught My Eye" - Banner Barbados
19. "Push It" - Garbage
20. "Boot-Off" - Bootsy Collins

Hot Chick Rodeo Basketball

Audio Junk is another Stoopid Kar Production live every Tuesday on randomradioonline.net and roundtableradio.net @ 8:45 pm EST. The World's Worst Mixing DJ -DJ JOE INC plays a variety of music-no format- just samples variety and more tonight Sly Stone, Dead Milkmen, The Dwarves, plus quotes from I'm Gonna Get You Sucka, Conrack and more.

Schedule

Tue 27: 4:45-cl
Thur 29: 4:45-cl
Sat 31: 12-5
Sun 1: 10:45-4
Tue 3: 3-9:30
Thur 5: 4:45-cl

What Makes Me Smile

Pookie playing the harmonica has got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen.

There's Always A First...

One more day before my old-as-dirt Monster Rancher website disappears from GeoCities forever. So if you got monsters to ranch, get 'em now.

Heaven Knows He's Miserable Now

Morrissey collapses onstage one song into his concert last night.

Sources seem to indicate that he's stable and that his condition isn't life threatening. Glad to hear it. Don't go MJ crazy just yet, you mad Morrissey-heads (yes, that means you too, Al).

Making Room For More Stuff

Oh, how I love Etsy.com, and all things handmade.

But you know what? I love Regretsy.com even more. Mostly because it narrows down the very awfulness of Etsy that I spend hours looking for anyway.

Maybe the second one should have ears on it.

Ear-Bleeding Frenzy

The Friday Five:

1. If the world was ending and you could listen to one song, what would it be?
Strangely, I think I would feel compelled to to pull out The Milky Way by Keiji Haino. Especially considering that I only heard it once and put it away for over sixteen years. I thought I had sold it to the Colley Avenue Pawn Shop ages ago, but I was surprised to find it still sitting on my shelf after all this time. It's nameless and labelless black CD makes it a tad inconspicuous in my collection. Something about the monotonous drone somehow feels right with the impending end of the world and all.

2. How did you first come across that song?
If anybody can recall my old post from January 2006 (not likely) I was inspired to buy a Keiji Haino CD after reading a very short but passionate review of the man written by a guy that I later came to know online, without having realized who he was until I unearthed the review from my magazine collection several years later.

3. If it reminds you of a person, is that person still with you?
I've met him once in NYC, and I still read his blog regularly and comment occasionally.

4. Does anyone else know what that song means to you?
Well if they're reading this, they do now.

5. Where would you listen to it, and with whom?
Probably in my bedroom, and more than likely by myself, since Joe will be running out in a fit of ear-bleeding frenzy.

A Nice Tribute...

LOL Alice Cooper.

Soupy Sales, 1926-2009

My dad and brother and I saw him do stand-up at a local comedy club some 15 year ago, I guess. And by stand-up I mean he sat on a stool on the stage and ripped into various people in the industry with a heavy dose of bitterness and at times a little touch of disdain. But he was funny, just like he always had been. After the show the three of us got to meet him at the side of the stage, and he was very gracious and kind, chatting at length with us, and even expounding further on previous tirades. We finally had to say our goodbyes and kind of back out the door a little. But ohhh, God bless Soupy. A good an charitable man. I still love you.

Ode To Old Friends and Blues Legends Everywhere

Looking back over this old blog post from January 2006, three months before his death, makes me miss Tom so very much. :(


Afterwards we went to lunch again with Tom the realtor, and Mike joined us again as well. Over Chinese buffet we played one of those geeky music nerd games that all four of us, as music nerds, always tend to gravitate towards when we're together: We started out jokingly adding the middle name "Ray" to every blues artist that we could think of off the top of our heads (Robert Ray Johnson, Muddy Ray Waters, Howlin' Ray Wolf, Blind Lemon Ray Jefferson, Bonnie Ray Raitt) and we had come to the conclusion that it was the middle name "Ray" that truly lended the air of serious blues artist to the name itself. So we started imagining non-blues artists goin' blues and adding "Ray" to their names and just picturing what they might end up sounding like (Jacques Ray Brel, Pat Ray Benatar, Sun Ray Ra, Donna Ray Summer, Mitch Ray Miller -- which when I said it Joe immediately remarked "Now that's a Mitch Miller album cover I'd like to see!"). Then of course it got a little more ridiculous as we started branching off to actors an actresses (I'm mightily proud of my "Rae Dawn Ray Chong") and then to news correspondents (Wolf Ray Blitzer?) and Lord knows where it all went from there because by that point I was nearly face down in my plate of General Tso's chicken trying desperately not to hyperventilate from laughing too hard. I was also still deliriously exhausted from having Mike over until 4am last night making me laugh just as hard and here he was just a few hours later thumping me stoutly on the back to keep from choking on every fucking word coming out of his mouth.


Oh my God, good times.

R.I.P. my dear Tom.

Another Wasteland Gentrification

I woke up this morning and my dad's in Dubai. Every day with him is like an episode of Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego.

Anyway, back to reminiscing about twenty years ago, I'll take it back about twenty-two years ago, when my college buds and I discovered the 1983 Arista album With Sympathy from what sounded to our ears as another one of those British synth-pop groups with a couple of guys (Stephen George on drums and Al Jourgensen on keyboards and vocals) in snappy New Romantic outfits and across-the-pond accents. But I played their dance single "Work For Love" quite often on our WRFM station (broadcasting from the dorm room of one of our friends who was also a rabid synth-pop freak), and for a few years I often wondered what became of those charming lads.



About two years later I was at my parents' house watching MTV's 120 Minutes and they announced that a video for Ministry's new song was coming up next. Excitement! After running "Work For Love" into the ground I was eager to hear their latest endeavor.

And this was it...

Soooooo.... not exactly "Work For Love" anymore, was it? I can't remember if Joe was there or not but I think I called him right away and told him about Ministry's "new direction". But then again Joe might have already heard the song on the local alternative station one night and told me about it, but I can't remember. Either way, I was in hysterics. Never would have thought that foo-foo group would ever cross over to the daaaaark side that way.

But it turns out, Arista had a different idea of what Ministry should look and sound like -- namely every other Pet Shop Boys clone on the market at the time. And not knocking the Pet Shop Boys, whom I love, because I actually really liked "Work For Love" for all the same reasons.

But it appears that with the move to Sire Records and Jourgensen taking up the guitar again, the band had been inching its way back to the industrial rock of its initial path. And the boys are from Chicago, not England. Apparently the record company wanted fake accents, as well.

The new Ministry sound prevailed throughout the early 90's for me, and nights at Adams and Friar Tucks with friends moshing to "Burning Inside" and "Thieves", two of my favorite songs from the band. And although Jourgensen has since called With Sympathy "abortion of an album" I'll always have a soft spot for that first record. And especially the bumper sticker of the band during one of their With Sympathy photo shoots on my record case. Not as much of a conversation piece as it once was, but it still delights me to no end.

Extraordinary Machine

First 20 tracks on my iTunes this evening feeling a reckless loss of control.

1. "Black Flower" - Spirit Caravan
2. "Love Scene (The Terminator)" - Brad Fiedel
3. "Riot In Thunder Alley" - Eddie Beram
4. "What's Going On" - Marvin Gaye
5. "California Love" - 2Pac
6. "Drivin' Wheel" - Robert Gordon
7. "Staggolee" - Pacific Gas & Electric
8. "Last Caress" - The Misfits
9. "Towuti Brazza Toye Kisasa" - De Malo
10. "Rich With Nothin'" - The Split Ends
11. "Artists Only" - Talking Heads
12. "Cosmic Rap" - James Pants
13. "Pulled Up" - Talking Heads
14. "Let 'Em In" - Wings
15. "Don Henley Must Die" - Mojo Nixon
16. "Emotional Traffic" - The Rumour
17. "Here It Comes" - MC Serch
18. "Lonely By Your Side" - Azzido da Bass featuring Johnny Blake
19. "American Party Song" - Chuck Aherns and The Cannonballs
20. "Nothung Part Three" - Peter Brötzmann, William Parker, Michael Wertmuller

Speaking Of 20 Years...

Trent Reznor celebrates his own debut album Pretty Hate Machine, released 20 years ago this month.

Although I have noticed that Reznor rarely skimps on the self-congratulations, I'll back him up on this one. Pretty Hate Machine did seem pretty seminal for its time around these parts.

Around the late 80's and early 90's there was a local radio station that played music that you just didn't hear on mainstream radio around that time. The Cocteau Twins' "Sugar Hiccup" into Public Enemy's "She Watch Channel Zero", The Connell's "Gun And Games" into Frank Zappa's "Dinah-Moe-Humm", etc. My friend Al was a DJ there, and Joe even did a short stint on a late-nite shift. But even with a format such as that, hearing "Sanctified" off the newly released Pretty Hate Machine album was the most arresting thing on the air at that time. One of those songs where everybody in the car you were driving had to shut the fuck up so that you could turn it up and feel that bass line grow and build until your speakers blew out every time. It really was the definition of the "oh-my-God-it's-THAT-SONG" kind of experience.

It was also about four months later when I turned 21 and was able to go to nightclubs (or at least legally, since I had been going to them since 19 while Joe was a DJ), even though there were few places one could go back then to hear music like that. While the rest of Hampton Roads was out dancing to in clubs to MC Hammer and Bell Biv Devoe, Joe and I discovered Adam's -- a gaudy little hotel hotspot that had an "Alternative Night" every Monday night with a DJ named C.D. McHenry, where one could dance to Shriekback, Bauhaus, The Stone Roses, and best of all, "Head Like A Hole" from the Pretty Hate Machine album, which got the whole floor sweating and throbbing -- Joe, Mike, Al, Wes, Pamela Jo, S. and just dave, Lee... we all met each other to that album, rubbed our soaking bodies against each other to the pulsating angst of that song. And we are all still old friends to this day, twenty years later. Pretty amazing.

My friends and I were just starting to get into industrial music at the time, from the dancier stuff of Meat Beat Manifesto to the chaotic crunch of Einstürzende Neubauten. But it was Pretty Hate Machine that became sort of our gateway drug to the meat of that new world. That summer when Joe became the Tuesday night alternative night DJ at Friar Tucks on Hampton Boulevard, "Head Like A Hole" was already getting play on MTV's 120 Minutes, and the mainstream exposure was beginning to show. A good year before Nirvana's Nevermind hit the airwaves, people were already putting away their Poison albums and exploring this "new" genre of music that Pretty Hate Machine promised. It got to where any song of that album was a guarantee dancefloor-packer. Perfect for the drama-fueled post-adolescent snobs we were. And perhaps a part of me goes right back to that mindset every time I hear that album, and not a whole lot from the 80's does that to me as much anymore.

Nine Inch Nails as since changed and evolved from such pop mentality. But I dare say they have never sounded quite as fun again. But then again I probably haven't been as fun myself since 20 years ago, so who am I to say?

And I Still Don't Know...

I remember twenty years ago back when the Stone Roses song "I Wanna Be Adored" was on the radio and I thought that they were saying "I Want To Be A Dord". And for the life of me I couldn't figure out what the hell a dord was.

Yerp, I'm a dummy.

Reconsider The Lillies

Audio Junk is another Stoopid Kar Production live every Tuesday on randomradioonline.net and roundtableradio.net @ 8:45 pm EST.The World's Worst Mixing DJ -DJ JOE INC plays a variety of music-no format- just samples variety and more.

Schedule

Tue 20: 4:45-cl
Thur 22: 4:45-cl
Sat 24: 12-5
Mon 26: 4:45-cl
Tue 27: 4:45-cl
Thur 29: 4:45-cl
Sat 31: 12-5

Skanks For The Memories

This sounds like Miranda and me on a typical Monday night closing the store. Or Joe and Mike on a typical Monday night playing video games. I can't decide which.



Not safe for work. Oh who am I kidding? Nobody's watching this! :D

Never Should Have Seen Those Eyes

I want to make a web comic.

Actually, not really. I would love to make a real honest-to-goodness comic book, but that doesn't seem to be where the industry is going these days.

Or maybe it's just my urge to draw is rising again, but I am tapped out of creative ideas. And have been tapped out for a ridiculously good long time. My last idea of painting giant fictional comic strip panels taken out of context hasn't quite died on the vine yet, but I've been just lacking the room to do it in my cramped townhouse. It was a little distressing driving past the Stockley Gardens Art Festival in Norfolk yesterday and thinking, "If I had started that project back when I came up with it, I would be out there right now, maybe making sales." Freezing weather and rain be damned and all that.

Hanging out at Hunter's house and seeing her work reminded me of how much I've squandered my talent throughout the years. All I have to show for it are old fliers from bands booked back in the 1990's, most of which were torn down and thrown away when I moved from Norfolk to Virginia Beach. Unlike Hunter, I was never much of a painter. But then I figured if I painted in the style in which I drew then maybe I might find my niche. That urge is coming back to me again. I really gotta start justifying my existence on this earth somehow. Or at least leave a delightfully tacky carbon trail in my wake. John Waters would be pleased.

I'm Diggin' Your Scene

Long-time loves The Raveonettes came out with a new album last week entitled In And Out Of Control, and although they appear to have long given up their rule book for playing in all B flat minor, no high-hat/ride cymbals, and always singing in harmony, the Copenhagen kids still seem to mingle all that's sweet and heavy in their new work.

The video to "Last Dance", which has some disturbingly Hitchcockian moments involving singing crows, so if you're even slightly ornithophobic you might think twice about clicking.



And speaking of the Raveonettes, I first heard of Minnesota-born Har Mar Superstar when he opened for the band on their Chain Gang Of Love tour several years ago and was taken aback by the startling sight of a balding Ron Jeremy look-alike spasmodically dancing alone on stage in his underpants. But as his latest album Dark Touches hits the stores the same week I'm finding him as delightfully infectious as his oddball persona.

The video for the new single "Tall Boy" also stars actress Eva Mendes, and some other attractive babes. Turn it up, you bastards.

Facebook Confidential

Melissa is cold.
Melissa is now watching Sabado Gigante over the phone with Mike.
Melissa Does the guy on the left look like Michael Williams?


Melissa is listening to Michael Williams play The Price Is Right on the Wii over the phone.
Melissa Oh that I could will a radio here. James Brown singing I Lost Someone or the Jesters and the Paragons And Georgie Woods the guy with the goods and Guided Missiles
Melissa Thanks to David Middleton, I can no longer look at Richard Crenna without picturing him wearing finger cymbals.
Melissa is watching The Lawrence Welk Show on PBS.
Carrol McHenry likes this.
Melissa I'd like to give her "sugar in the mornin'". ;)
Melissa I'm the other "Butt Sister".

Intimate Confessions...

Every time the Lawrence Welk Show comes on PBS, I simply just cannot change the channel or even look away.

Flight Delayed

Any 'o you birdwatchers out there identify this species? Found it perished next to the curb in front of my store yesterday afternoon. Its bill is long and narrow and its feet look like they might possibly be webbed, so I'm guessing some kind of beach bird but it's too big to be a sandpiper and too small to be a gull.

Aw, but still. Bless his sweet little head.

Guilt Trips Sink Ships

First 20 tracks on my iTunes trying to figure out what I need to delete from my hard drive to make room for more music on my iTunes...

1. "Unyielding Conditioning" - Fishbone
2. "Revolution" - The Beatles
3. "Leavin'" - Shelby Lynn
4. "Date To Church" - The Replacements
5. "Bright Lights Big City" - Jimmy Reed
6. "What'd I Say" - Etta James
7. "Robert DeNiro's Waiting" - Bananarama
8. "Rumors Of A Dead Man" - Boo Yaa Tribe
9. "Block Rockin' Beats" - Chemical Brothers
10. "Super Good" - Myra Barnes
11. "Devil In Sports Casual" - Midfield General
12. "Ouroboros" - The Mars Volta
13. "She's A Lover" - The Pretty Things
14. "The Geeks Get The Girls" - American Hi-Fi
15. "Good Day Sunshine" - The Beatles
16. "Subway Joe" - Joe Bataan
17. "6'1"" - Liz Phair
18. "I Wanna Be Your Lover" - Prince
19. "Louis Collins" - Mississippi John Hurt
20. "Love Hangover" - The Associates

Captain Lou Albano, 1933-2009

Probably the man who first really introduced me to the professional wrestling universe. Saturday afternoons with my father watching WWF, not to mention Albano's many crossover endeavors from music videos to features films and children's television programs, pretty much helped define my teenage years. Plus that whole rubber band in the cheeks thing is so punk rock.

The Cheese Stands Alone

Where else can you hear "Mantastic" by Sven van Hees segued out of Loverboy's "Turn Me Loose"? Fabulously non-formatted Audio Junk is live every Tuesday night at 8:45pm on randomradioonline.net and roundtableradio.net.

Schedule

Tue 13: 4:45-cl
Thur 15: 9:45-5
Sat 17: 12-5
Mon 19: 4:45-cl
Tue 20: 4:45-cl
Thur 22: 4:45-cl
Sat 24: 12-5

Let The Nightmare Begin!

My father used to quote this frog thing all the time when I was growing up and still does to this day, but I always thought that it was just another one of his many dopey-dad sayings. It was only this weekend that I learned where it came from.



I never knew Andy Devine had a children's show in the 1950's! Where the hell was I?

Oh right, not being born yet.

Glad The My Camera Works Again...

Breakfast with Mike at the Street Cook and lunch while watching the Redskins/Panthers game at Al's sister's house.

Perfect Attendance

Oh yes, the highlight of Monsterfest for me occurred right before I even walked into the library. A woman pushing a stroller with a sleeping two-year-old girl noticed Joe and Lee and me striding side-by-side towards the library doors and remarked that the three of us looked awfully familiar to her. Turns out it was this girl named Anita, who ran with my group of friends back during the Outer Limits years. Outer Limits was this nightclub that we all helped organize and promote back around 1991 that involved Joe (who was the resident DJ), myself, S., just dave, Goofy Steve, and a Sharp skinhead named Chuck whom Anita was dating at the time. Lee wasn't part of our street team but he was at the club every single night. We really did offer the area music scene something very unique at the time, and it was an exciting, idealistic era to be involved.

Anyway, Anita is now a married mother of two pretty little girls that she had brought to Monsterfest with her husband for the first time and runs a website called Mommy Matinee which features family-oriented events in the Hampton Roads area, so if any of you locals know of family events going on in town please help her out and shoot her an email at her homepage.

But wow, I haven't seen this girl in seventeen years. And she still recognized us. Of course who knew Joe and Lee and I would still be hanging out together seventeen years later.

Big Lizard In My Back Pocket

I suppose this year's attempt to attend Monsterfest 6 was fraught with peril from the very beginning. Despite asking for this weekend off way in advance the store was trying to make me work from noon to 5pm today, which are the exact times that the convention hours take place. Switching days with another guy at work solved that issue. But Joe had to test drive a potential new car this afternoon at noon but I figured that wouldn't take very long and Joe really needs a new car. Most crippling of all was waking up this morning with one of my occasional headaches. I get these sometimes, and although they are not of the migraine intensity they are pretty bad and last the entire day, so I napped while Joe was testing the car and I overslept. So we end up getting to the library a little after 3pm, where we run into Lee in the parking lot who tells us that he's getting ready to start the panel discussion on Godzilla films at 3:30pm so we don't have much time before we have to find our seats. Then my camera conks out, either from dead batteries or who knows what, so I manage one single blurry photo (above) of Lee on the left during the discussion, so terrible a shot from my shoddy Motorolla that you can't even see the giant Godzilla slippers he's wearing on his feet under the table.

But it was a nice and interesting Godzilla discussion, being that Lee is always funny as hell and a huge Godzilla fan. The discussion ranged from the first, frighteningly edgy 1954 film Gojira to the campier productions of the later years, touching on not only the allegories about the atomic bomb which the Japanese people were still recovering from less than ten years previous, but controversially an allegory about the American occupation of the country up until 1952, which like the American Cold War films of the 50's involving space alien takeovers, Godzilla embodying America itself storming in, crushing traditional Japanese culture, and changing people's lives with western influences as a result. Funny, but through the entire conversation all I could think about was the Mattel Shogun Warrior Godzilla toy I used to have as a kid, back during my own obsession with Godzilla when the local station showed the movies on Sunday mornings (as well as the goofy Saturday morning cartoon of the same name that ran from 1978 to 1982) that I got for Christmas around

one of those years. It had a lever poking out of the back of its head that shot a little flaming tongue out from between his yellow teeth, and a button at his wrist that would fire one of his fists at you, which my little brother often got the business end of that initial year. But mostly it was my great love for dragons, dinosaurs, reptiles, Godzilla movies, the Godzilla cartoon, and this one commercial that ran continuously that holiday season that filled my head with fantasies of taking Godzilla to the beach and have him crush mighty sand castles with his big... flying... um, hand?



Eventually I lost the fist altogether. But I carried around that damn Godzilla to school, to Nana's, to church, and yes, occasionally to the beach. Although the commercial doesn't point out how much sand can get into a large hollowed-out Godzilla body when sand castles topple over him (or salt water when your little brother throws him into the sea).

Speaking of the lame Saturday morning cartoon, I did own a Godzooky doll. This one in particular, which actually looked nothing like Godzooky with his jaundiced skin, blue armpit wings and blatant "Godzooky" written across his chest in case you couldn't figure out what the hell this thing was supposed to be. I guess they did gradually put out more recognizable Godzooky toys at some point but I must have missed that somehow. Still, I really wish I still have both these Godzilla franchise toys again. My mother insists that she never threw any of of my toys out, but dang if I can find them in the attic. I think she just tells me this to cover up what must have been a gigantic bonfire in the backyard sometime around 1982 containing all the things that I loved but which grossed out my mother to no end that suddenly just disappeared. Namely my Godzilla toys, my Advanced Dungeons & Dragons game, and the comic book that I was obsessed with when I was twelve. And I'm pretty convinced that was followed up with a second bonfire around 1987, when all my Dead Kennedys and Bauhaus T-shirts when mysteriously missing.

But back to Monsterfest. With my headache and overall sleepiness from both of us, we opted out of coming back to the library after the vendors cleared out for the all-night horror movie lock-in festival, despite how much fun it would probably be to get to see Motel Hell and Scream Blacula Scream on a giant screen with about 200 roaring nerds. But once we got home we had a pretty decent time of our own with a DVD that Joe bought from one of the tables called Virginia Creepers, a cheaply and locally made documentary on the history of television horror movie hosts from Richmond, Hampton Roads, and Fairfax dating from the 1950's on up through the 80's and 90's, before cable TV and the internet boom made such late-nite weekend fare obsolete. Of course Doctor Madblood was the one I grew up with, every Saturday night at one in the morning, usually when I had a slumber party, with the perpetually stoned mad scientist in his castle in Pungo (a local punchline of a rural backwater stretch of land), his wiseass brain in a jar, and the opening guitar wail of Sugarloaf's "Green-Eyed Lady" during the opening credits that to this day I still cannot associate with anything else but Doctor Madblood. So it was kind of nice catching up with his legacy again, even though he still does local prime time Halloween specials to this day, as well as make routine appearances at horror movie sneak previews, and Monsterfest itself. Still, it's nice to have. Something to show my non-existent children someday. If children didn't already seem to know as much about Madblood today as I did when I was their age.

Anyways, so much for today. I'm heading to bed to sleep off the rest of this headache. Lunch tomorrow at a friends' house, followed by hours of football. Yes, apparently THAT is what I'll wind up staying awake for. Sigh.

Speaking Of Crumb

I admit I'm not exactly a big KISS fan. But I do want a bag of these, $6.00 a pop be damned.

They can go on the shelf with the Devil Girl Choco-Bar I still have that I bought at the Naro concession stand when the movie Crumb was playing back in 1991.

Yes, chocolate still intact. I wonder how much that would go for on eBay these days?

I Wanna Go I Wanna Go I Wanna Go...

Genesis: A Conversation with R. Crumb and Françoise Mouly

Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Time:
7:30pm - 9:30pm
Location:
Carpenter Theatre, Richmond CenterStage
Street:
600 East Grace Street
City/Town:
Richmond, VA

R. Crumb, regarded as the founding father of underground comics, got his first taste of fame, as well as notoriety, during the 1960s – his “Zap Comix” rapidly attracted the attention of a fan base whose members dwelt well beyond the geographical parameters of San Francisco’s Bay Area.

Crumb, whose cartoons are controversial, funny, at times bizarre and always idiosyncratic, today occupies a place of honor in the world of high culture and art. His graphic narrative Genesis, scheduled for release in the fall of 2009, has generated more-than-eager anticipation.

For his Richmond engagement, one of only five appearances nation-wide, Crumb will participate in a conversation with Françoise Mouly, art editor for The New Yorker since 1993. She is also the founder, publisher, designer and co-editor along with her husband, cartoonist Art Spiegelman, of the avant-garde comics anthology RAW.

Audience Advisory:

Mature audiences only; contains sexual content.

Ticket Prices: Adult $38, Senior $36, Student $19

1-800-745-3000 or ticketmaster.com

UR Employees $30 and UR Students FREE through the Modlin Center Box Office

SAVE $10! Use promotion code CRUMB10 and save $10 off the Adult ticket price.

Presenting The Greatest News In The Long Great History Of Great News

You heard it here third (after Facebook, via Fantagraphics website). FOX network has just made a development deal with Peter Bagge to script a pilot for his famous long-running comic book series The Bradleys to carry as an animated prime time television program.

The Bradleys technically started their long and wacky history in Bagge's collected mishmash of sketches called Neat Stuff, which began in the early 80's, and spun off The Bradley's - the dysfunctional family from suburban New Jersey starring Bagge's teenage alter-ego Buddy Bradley, his younger sister Babs and baby brother Butch, and also featuring his grouchy couch-potato dad Brad and church-going dipsomaniac mom Betty -- all loosely based on Bagge's own family as he was growing up. Although we can all only hope it was never this horrifically trauamtic.

An entire day's worth of squabbling could take up a whole comic book, most of which centers around the volatile family and the formidable tempers rampant in their DNA. Brad might explode at Betty for not having dinner on the table when he wants it, and a fed-up Betty might throw his plate across the kitchen and wind up in the front yard, ensconced on a lawn chair with a bottle of booze "on strike" (which provokes the neighbors to shake their heads and mutter "There go those Bradleys again.") Naive little Butch, war-obsessed and a chip on his scrawny shoulder, might be persuaded to jump off the roof of the house and break his legs because his brother convinced him that he had super powers, while bratty, self-absorbed Babs runs through the house or yard at the slightest provocation screaming to all who will hear her "YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF MEEE!", which over the years has practically become her mantra. And star of the show Buddy, surly acne-scarred music geek and all-around asshole of the family (which is saying a lot) often finds himself in the middle of all the drama, even though most of the time he goes out of his way to stay out of everybody's way, preferring the solace of his bedroom, his headphones, and his beloved old 1960's garage rock records, all the better to drown out the constant family caterwauling.

Sounds like every other dysfunctional family sitcom since Married... With Children, doesn't it? Maybe, and yet maybe not. And this is what concerns me about making The Bradleys into a television series. While dysfunctional families are hardly new material, it was Bagge's knack for nuance and character development that really fleshed out the family dynamic. How a typical scene where Babs and Betty have a perfectly civil conversation at the dinner table erupting into a hair-pulling slap-fight of nuclear proportions in the front yard isn't so much the slapschticky acts themselves but how they get there. And Bagge gets there with the kind of snappy dialogue and slow build to madness that he's famous for. And for what I fear may not translate into a half-hour animated series. The humor of having Buddy's face frozen with vibrating "surprise lines" like the one in the last panel above could potentially be lost in animation where you can't linger on a joke or a frame to soak up all its comedy potential.

Either way, I'm extremely excited for Peter Bagge, whose new book Everybody Is Stupid Except For Me I touched on a little while back. I've been following Bagge since Neat Stuff was reprinted in the early 90's, as well as his even more famous series Hate, which chronicles the life of Buddy Bradley in his twenties and living in Seattle (as far away as he could get from New Jersey and the family) during the height of the grunge rock era. Bagge's work can also be seen often monthly in MAD magazine and weekly in the Weekly World News, so the man is really putting his name out there.

I wish you love and luck, "Pee Bagge". I'll be watching.

Fish Made With Fish

"Irony ruined everything. I wish my movies could have played at drive-ins, but they never did, because of irony. Even the best exploitation movies were never meant to be 'so bad they were good'. They were not made for the intelligentsia. They were made to be violent for real, or to be sexy for real. But now everybody has irony. Even horror films now are ironic. Everybody's in on the joke now. Everybody's hip. Nobody takes anything at face value anymore."

- John Waters

Irving Penn, 1917-2009

Schedule

Thur 8: 4:45-cl
Mon 12: 4:45-cl
Tue 13: 4:45-cl
Thur 15: 9:45-5
Sat 17: 12-5

She Pays My Rent

A new Audio Junk this week! Audio Junk is on live every Tuesday night at 8:45pm EST at randomradioonline.net and roundtableradio.net. Join in next time, will you?

Ooooo, Out Of Box...

I do love how the word "abstinence" is misspelled on the work sheet, but the student spelled every word he used correctly. Well, that is, when he intended to. ;)

1. "Blood Burden" - Crisis

2. "2000 Years" - Burning Spear

3. "Back In Your Head" - Tegan And Sara

4. "New Ground" - Burma Jam

5. "Freak Off" - Orchestra Harlow

6. "Killer Inside Me" - MC 900ft Jesus

7. "Jet Pilot" - Bob Dylan

8. "Run To Vegas" - Tangerine Dream

9. "Hot Corner" - The B-52's

10. "Skinhead Revolt" - Joe The Boss

11. "When We Was Fab" - George Harrison

12. "Southbound Again" - Charlie Daniels Band

13. "Daytripper/She's A Rainbow" - Bad Brains

14. "Midnight Cowboy" - Cows

15. "Six Pack" - Black Flag

16. "Our Singer" - Pavement

17. "Seashell" - Skylab

18. "The Hero's Return" - Pink Floyd

19. "Passion Is No Ordinary Word" - Graham Parker

20. "Drunken Milkman" - Scatterbrain

Where The Hell's His Money?

Mojo Nixon is giving away his new album Whiskey Rebellion for free online tomorrow. And after that, the same goes for his entire back catalog.

Mojo's albums have been out of print for quite awhile, as you could see from my blog post concerning the pricey used copies that came through my store door, and I really regretted not buying them when I had the chance because they sure went fast. I already bought the albums on vinyl back in the 1980's so it's not like he hasn't already gotten my money.

But now I just want to take tomorrow off and spend the day having my own private Mojo Nixon festival. Dang, I did promise to take a closing shift so that I can have Saturday off. Nertz nertz nertz.

Woot.

Puff The Magic Whaaaaa?

The motherlode of free MP3 files, from hilarious anti-drug PSAs by Herbie Hancock and Peter Yarrow, to chorale performances of the Cheers theme, to skronk jazz and more.

Remember how I mentioned a few months ago that I selected Raymond Scott's "Powerhouse" for our store's associate collective mix CD, and how everyone races to skip the song every time it comes on? Today, they let it play. And a guy came into the store and said "What is this? This is AMAZING! I want a copy!" and one of the boys at work burned him just that one song on a disk, and he was happy.

And at the end of the day, so was I.

Poison In A Pretty Pill

Even spending $5.00 on an out of print CD that I have wanted for years isn't cheering me up today. But years ago I would always pick up the vinyl copy of the Crass 1981 third album Penis Envy and think "One day... mmm, but maybe not today." before it ever occurred to me that I just might never see it again, considering how old it is. But since a used copy of the CD came through our doors and for such a cheap price I figured I was being granted a second carpe diem moment, perhaps even better I waited this long since I always remembered the record copy being so dang expensive. But Penis Envy is the exception in the Crass repertoire because it's the only album where the two female Crass-mates Eve Libertine and Joy De Vivre get to fight their way up to the microphone through the boy's club that was their band and express their anarchist philosophies with a more feminist angle. Musically the arrangements even appear more complex, more than just the straightforward punk that was their first album, 1978's The Feeding of the 5000, which was the only other Crass album I owned and had to go by. Seems to be Penis Envy is the album most of their fans remember the most. As much as I don't really listen to punk like I used to, perhaps the sheer nostalgia factor might raise my spirits. God, want I wouldn't give to be this young and idealistic again, however misguided I might have been.

The Cadillac Of Outhouses

CHRIS ROCK: "This Polanski thing got me, man. What the hell? People are defending Roman Polanski 'cause he made some good movies?"

JAY LENO: "Yeah, I don't get it."

CHRIS ROCK: "Are you kidding me? He made good movies 30 years ago, Jay. Come on! Even Johnnie Cochran don't have the nerve to go, 'Well, did you see O.J. play against New England?"

Yay! Boooo...

Good news! Not only did I manage to swing October 10th off, but I can still pick up the hours that Wednesday night because I traded a shift with someone. Bad news is that I'm getting another crown put on that morning and I'm hoping that I won't be in too much face agony that night after the novocaine wears off. Then again my face still hasn't stopped hurting since the last crowning, which means I need to get a root canal done on that. Googlymoolgy. Can I just opt to go toothless from here on out? Not that I eat much crunchy food anyway. And all my veggies I shove in the blender with fruit as it is.

But as far as Wednesday's concerned I'll suck it up if it means I get to make it out to Monsterfest '09 for awhile, and Joe has the day off too. My old high school friend Connie wants to meet up so maybe she and I can hang for awhile. Anyway, photos from last year's Monsterfest, as well as the raffle basket I won. Let's just hope my vehicle makes it. It made a horrendous bone-shaking rattle while I was sitting in park with the engine on, although it got me to work and home fine this afternoon. Why oh why can't I live in a city with some decent bike trails?

Is That Kangaroo Position Still Available?

The Friday Five:

1. What did you dream of being when you were a little child?
A kangaroo.

2. What did you think you might become when you were between the ages of 12-13?
One of the artists who painted the giant album covers that use to hang out of outside of Tracks music store at Ward's Corner. Just last night my new boss at work who used to be a manager there in 1988 and told me how they did it, by putting the albums on a wall projector and trace over the image onto a canvas. Needless to say my dreams were dashed forever.

3. What career choices did you consider as a young adult?
I went into college expecting to become a commercial artist, although I really had no desire to be one. But what else can you do with an art degree that might make you money? A part of me would have rather been poor and painting alone in my room, appreciated by a dedicated few. Well, the poor part came true!

4. Did you follow along one of the career paths you considered?
Not at all. My music hobby took me to a brief career in the business, helping Joe with booking bands and promoting, with record store work on the side. Now it's just record store work, period. Something's gotta click in me any day now that I'm not 23 years old anymore.

5. Have you changed careers since then? Was it by choice or necessity?
A few diversions here and there, like working at Ticketmaster for seven years. But I soon ran back into the familiar arms of music retail. Again, I seriously need to grow the eff up.

Hear The Drummer Get Wicked

A brief history of the world' most important 6-second drum loop: The "Amen Break"



Thanks to Maggie for the link!

Regrettable Nicknames

While I've been on the subject of things from the 70's and early 80's, does anybody else but Ellen Forney and myself remember those broad colorful pocket combs with slogans on them that you could get at Spencers Gifts? I know I must have had a few, even though I never could get a comb through my hair to save my life. Mother used to blow-dry my curls straight, but it didn't do a lick of good getting the tangles out. But again, no evidence of this kind of thing existing online. I even had to take a photo of the page from Forney's book.

Ellen Forney, by the way, has been my current favorite graphic artist and cartoonist. Born in Philadelphia and residing in Seattle (with Peter Bagge and Roberta Gregory -- seems all my favorites are in good company) she currently teaches at the Cornish College of the Arts. And when she's not putting out her own graphic novels she is commissioned for illustrating wedding invites as well as stories by other writers and lots more. I gotta hand it to her, the gal keeps herself busy, and out there -- and I admire that, especially in an art form that has lost money over the years due to online accessibility.

Her autobiographical I Was Seven in '75 was out of print for awhile, but resurfaced in the recent years under the title Monkey Food. Being about one year older than myself, it made following her recollections of childhood in the 1970's closer to my own, even though my family wasn't anywhere near as liberated as hers, with all the pot smoking and nudist camp vacationing. But one of Forney's trademark styles is her charming "instructional" pages, with tips on how to feather your hair or to do the "ghost arm" trick with your elbows. Much like all of our childhoods, we're all spent many an hour teaching our friends these very important skills, and Forney doesn't forget to include them amongst the pages of cute, cartoony drawings that flow through her remembrances of things past.

Whether it was worshipping the Bionic Woman or passing contraband copies of Judy Blume's Forever under the desks at school, Monkey Food almost reads like my own childhood diary illustrated by someone with twice the talent and sense of humor as mine. Which comes in handy for Forney, as she is often illustrating the lives and parables of others -- most of which are collected in the first Ellen Forney book I bought, I Love Led Zeppelin. From portraits of nerdy Gary Numan-obsessed high school girls to wacky true-life stories of encounters with the likes of Tom Waits and Camille Paglia, I Love Led Zeppelin is a great compilation of Forney and Co. adventures that also include such notables as Dan Savage's boyhood Halloween revelation, and Margaret Cho's instruction on how to fit in with the gay male crowd.

Next on my list the autobiography The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, by Sherman Alexie, with art by Ellen Forney. It sounds interesting, and Ellen's innit! Plus you gotta check out Forney's latest book Lust, her one-page illustrations of kinky online personal ads from Seattle's The Stranger. Hilarious and hot. Just like the honey herself.