The Buzzcocks at the Paradise, Boston

It was at some point during "Autonomy" that I realized the last time I saw The Buzzcocks was about 15 years ago at a venue in New York, where I saw the last of the shoegazers - Adorable - opening up for the punk legends.

That same night, I somehow ended up scoring an invite to an after party held in a very New York loft where one could mingle with both of the bands in question. I was with my friend Gretchen, who was hip, arty, and never lost her cool, but that was the night I saw her facade crack for the first and only time. Come to find out The Buzzcocks had played an important part in her young life and she was a gigantic fan. Merely sharing the same room with Pete Shelley was inducing a near nauseous state in her. Watching him from across the room we trembled as we carefully planned something "smart" to say to the seminal vocalist. 15 minutes later, we skittered over to him. "I love your pants" Gretchen said, indicating a smart looking pair of red plaid bondage numbers he was sporting. "Oh thank you!" he cheerfully replied. "My Mum bought them for me!" Knowing the conversation was not going to yield a better nugget than that, we nodded, giggled, and nervously and ran away, spending the rest of the summer recounting our 10 seconds with the legend.

Tonight there were no bondage pants, and Shelley is looking significantly older, more like your portly, balding, Uncle Alan whose main interests are comfy chairs, tea, and biscuits. The sound in the club is mostly terrible, but this can't repress the glee that arises from watching drummer Danny Farrant in action. A tumble of scrawny limbs pounding furiously he is the showpiece of the set. As promised the band's first two albums are played in order, but it's far more exciting when they get to the "all hits" encore.







Drummer Porn:

Lemmy - The Movie

Over the weekend I was fortunate enough to get a peek at "Lemmy" the new documentary about Lemmy Kilmister the singer / icon for heavy metal legends Motorhead, courtesy of the fabulous Boston Independent Film Festival.

Packed with interviews from a wide array of music celebrities (Joan Jett, Henry Rollins, Dee Snyder, Metallica, Mick Jones, Ozzy, and assorted members of Hawkwind and The Rockin' Vickers, Lemmy's early musical projects) about their time spent with Lemmy one on one, or describing how he's impacted their lives from afar, the film does a good job at establishing its subject as an incredibly potent figure in rock and roll history. Visits to Lemmy's (rent controlled, stuffed with freaky stuff, and not particularly tidy) apartment, live footage, and hearing about his worldview from the man himself ("I'm not a nazi. Nothing could be further from the truth. If the Israeli Army had the coolest uniforms in the world I'd wear them!") rounds out the the bill of creating a cogent and enrapturing portrait of surely the most interesting man (nee senior citizen) in metal today.

Sadly, as interesting as the story and subject are, the film does have some editing / narrative problems. It may be that there are just too many interesting Lemmy tidbits to fit in one film, but that said, the whole thing needs to be about a half hour shorter.

Seeing the film in a room of about 400 other metal maniacs made it easy to understand what fans would like to see cut from the film - to start, lengthy interviews with Foo Fighter Dave Grohl, who prattles on about 'integrity' and 'being genuine' while showing he hasn't got 1/3 of a clue about what he's talking about. The crowd booed and grumbled when Grohl and an array of other "artistes" with little cred spoke about their thoughts about Lemmy. But then again, when you're Lemmy, the whole rest of the world looks pretty uncool by comparison. Better to just shut up and rock.

Alicia Keys & Gene Simmons of Kiss on Banzai!

I recently find myself laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about one of my favorite shows from the past - Banzai! Banzai! is sort of a parody of a "Japanese TV Show" which actually came from the UK in the early 2000's. The format is a betting show, where viewers are supposed to wager on the outcome of an array of peculiar events set up by Banzai staff. The show had a brief run here in the US on Fox before Asian-American activists shut them down - gee, I wonder why?

Nonetheless, one of my very favorite recurring sketches is Lady One Question - a girl reporter who asks celebrities one question and continues to stare at them as if they are still answering until confused, they eventually walk away. Below one can enjoy her interview of Gene Simmons from Kiss, how long will the batty blowhard talk? Well wager why don't you?



Not had enough of music celebs being hosed by fake Japanese for the bemusement of the BBC viewing public? Then try on for size Alicia Keys being interviewed by "Mr Shake Hands Man" a reporter whose entire goal is to see how long he can get a celeb to shake his hand (sorry to say, he's not really that interested in your latest project - cough cough - but really, who is?). Again, place your bets now!




Bonus! Bill Murray, just because I like him:

Rock of Love Tour Bus Edition - some thoughts...

I hate to admit that for some reason I find Bret Michaels' Rock of Love intoxicating.

I mean, if I were to treat the show like something on The Discovery Channel - I'd say its certainly interesting to see how big modern science can inflate a woman's breasts, while at the same time it's intriguing to note that even the greatest minds of our time apparently find themselves unable to do anything to inflate her self esteem (hmph! Science!). But even with this bit of science out of the way, I think my favorite part of Rock of Love is how Michaels spends much of the show deeply wounded and full of sensitive remorse whenever he finds that any of the stripppers, porn stars, and deeply psychiactrically troubled women the folks at VH1 have painstakingly assembled for him to test the waters of romance with - may not be there because they are romantic idealists who truly wishes to commit to a life of love with a (surely balding) aging rock has-been, but in fact may just be doing it because they are crazy beeyotches who want to be on TV. Imagine that!

The other puzzling part of this show is how Michaels, a childhood onset diabetic (and didn't I read one-time recovered alchoholic?) is often shown parting hard with the ladies. Um, wouldn't all that booze get in the way of his healthy lifestyle?

PS - My money is on the Penthouse Pet Taya, because as she says “I’m a centerfold model for Penthouse and I’m the classiest one here!"

PPS - And what up with all that eyeliner Michaels now wears? He looks like he's going to be in an amateur theater production of Rent.

Johnny Lydon on Judge Judy - 1997

This is just an oddity I found on You Tube. John Lydon being sued by tour drummer Robert Williams over a broken tour agreement on Judge Judy. Williams is best known as the drummer for Captain Beefheart, but possibly not known for his sad bowl-cut in this video clip. More details on the decade old suit are here. As to the question of who sues over being fired off a tour when you don't get on with anybody else on the tour, and who would do this on Judge Judy is yet another matter entirely.

Jarvis Cocker embraces Too Old To Rock Too Young To Care Mantra

This quote from Pulp's frontman comes courtesy of The Guardian and my dear friend Brian:

He had been about to hit 40 when he considered walking away from music before.

"I just thought, 'You're too old to be in a band.'"

Does he think that he's too old now he's 45?

"Yeah, but who cares? I am too old. I have resigned myself to the humiliation that goes with it now."

I laugh.

"I have!" he protests. "I have, because I realise it's the only thing I was born to do"."

Read full text here

Prince - Now A Bible-Tapper

An atmospheric piece about Prince has hit the current New Yorker which is entirely worth reading if not just to read the description of him as "a small fifty-year-old man in yoga pants wearing platform flip-flops" and talking about how as a Jehovah's Witness he goes door to door spreading the good word. Years ago I remember seeing an MTV 'where are they now' special where Vanity of Vanity 6 talked about how she prayed for Prince's soul every day, well I guess that worked!

By the way, what with those religious stances, you can likely count Prince among the folks who voted against gay marriage in California. Way to kill a fanbase.

Flaming Lips love Guitar Hero

Now here's something pleasing. Enjoy Wayne Coyne from the Flaming Lips describing how they made their promo for NBC (also features the B-52's) and gives us a tour of his souped up double neck guitar - one guitar and one guitar hero.

Who Madonna is Voting For

Video from Madonna's current tour. With that giant gay fanbase who else would she vote for?

Dreamy

I had a dream last night I was going to invite the Undertones to my birthday party. I knew them because they were neighbors of a friend of mine, but not having their email I was going to just print out a note and stuff it under their door. I'd also like to note in the dream The Undertones were all still about 19, and all lived in an apartment in Boston together. Yep.

In other dreamy yet real news, the other week I found myself in an elevator with Clint Conley from Mission of Burma. But, rather than just saying "Hey, aren't you Clint Conley?", I instead just made nervous jokes about the bookstore we were in. Just goes to show even silver foxes are still foxes.

Devo angry McDonalds sells them out before they get a chance to do it themselves

In 'How To Make Your Unique Style Pay Off 30 Years Later News', Devo is currently suing McDonalds over their latest happy meal toy. Founding member Gerald Casale states the obvious about the wee plastic man currently found nestled twixt the buns of hungry youngsters "This New Wave Nigel doll that they've created is just a complete Devo rip-off and the red hat is exactly the red hat that I designed, and it's copyrighted and trademarked."

I see many Chicken McNuggets in somebody's future.

In other selling out news the band has lent a modified version of their hit "Whip It" to the good people at Tooth Tunes, so you now can sing along to "Brush It" while you practice good oral hygiene.

Remember, it's only bad if someone else sells you out without your permission!

More news on Devo's merchandising blitz from the NME and SF Gate.

Julianna Hatfield Pens A Memoir and I Have A Question

Press release:
_______________

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE JUNE 23, 2008 - JULIANA HATFIELD "GROWS UP" IN NEW BOOK;

ACCLAIMED SINGER/SONGWRITER'S PROVOCATIVE MEMOIR "WHEN I GROW UP" PUBLISHED ON SEPTEMBER 29TH
Juliana Hatfield has unveiled details of her upcoming memoir, entitled "When I Grow Up", slated to be published by John Wiley & Sons on September 29th.

_______________

Does anyone else find it odd that John Wiley and Sons is not a literature publisher? It's the publishing house you can thank for popular titles like "... for Dummies", "Cliff Notes", and the Frommer's Travel Guide series. Might it be possible that Bill Hatfield, author of the well loved memoir by the same publisher "ASP.NET for Dummies" could have had a hand in her book deal?

Of course I have no proof and that's the best thing about the web, wild unfounded speculation!

Still...

Hmmm...

Sparks in London - Indiscreet as the wanna be

It's just by luck that my holiday overseas coincided with one of the coolest retro concert ideas I'd heard about it a long time, namely that the godfathers of American quirk, Sparks, were when I was in town, playing each of their 21 albums over a 21 night span at the Carling Academy in Islington. What luck since here in Boston, Sparks could maybe fill a room of 200 for one night (or alternately my living room for 5 nights), an idea they haven't bothered to pursue in at least 20 years. The irony of flying to another country to see a band from LA is not lost on me, but still, we do what we have to do to see the rock.

Carling Academy Islington isn't much like the venues I go to at home. The key difference being that Carling Academy Islington is in a mall. Like, next to The Gap and across from the Starbucks, there is the venue. Very weird. And weirder still is the fact that although it's been here for a decade or so (according to my London friend Douglas), the interior has hardly been fixed up; you know, like a nightclub might be? The ceiling is a mishmash of exposed wiring and pipes, but not a cool looking mishmash like the outside of the Pompidou, just a big ugly unfinished room. Thankfully, we can hardly see any of its ugliness tonight though because the place is literally stuffed to the brim with men between the ages of 40 and 59 (and an occasional friend) who have by all appearances been waiting since 1975 to see the band play their Indiscreet album tonight.

It's possible I've never been at a show this crowded in my life, nor one where literally everyone in the audience is singing along with every line to every song, but that's what tonight's show is like. And rather than that being as annoying as it sounds, it is actually deeply heartwarming. In front of me a man trailing grey curls pokes his balding friend and jumps up and down for every song while behind me a lipsticked young goth sips her drink and rolls her eyes, but for this moment we are all one in loving some Sparks.

On stage, the Mael brothers look older, and they should, what with the pair being somewhere around 60 the idea they're even on stage at all is pretty amazing. Better yet is that fact that they still both have a full head of hair (I'm old, we notice these things) and look rather (haggard yet) stylish. For a little over and hour the pair (along with a band that includes Steven McDonald from Redd Kross) really do kick out the jams. Of course for Ron this involves his standard stock still pose (some things never change) and for Russell a lot of traipsing about in a gangster-style pinstriped suit which makes him look quite dignified. Old rockers + suits = yes in my book. The album is played, as advertised, in order front to end, while video projections of the album's cover (showing the brothers having just escaped from a plane crash) spins behind them (except during Pineapple, when a picture of the fruit does the same). At the end of the night the assembled throng all sing a happy birthday to the numerous band members who are celebrating their special day in the coming week and then a chant goes up: "RON, RON, RON, RON" which provokes the stoic Mael to a turn at the mic, clutching it as the younger Mael clutches a dozen roses someone has thrown on stage. "We locked ourselves away for 4 months, and we had no idea how this would turn out..." "AMAZING!" a voice from the audience shouts. The Maels leave the stage and then return to say how it means so much to them that people are excited about the shows. Am I the only one in the crowd who is verklempt? I think not. Worth waiting 33 years for? Definitely.



Above: Sparks open the Indiscreet show with Hospitality on Parade
If the video above don't work, go here.

Baby on Days Like This...

I hate to hassle an old dog, but toddling off to see Scarce at the Plough and Stars over the weekend was kind of a downer.

I'd been psyched to hear that the band had reunited in one form or another and were playing out now. I certainly played my copy of Deadsexy to death 10 years ago and had been saddened when frontman Chick Graning had to stop playing due to a brain hemmorage suffered around the time the album came out. So am I shooting fish or just plain old not being kind to say that the duo who appeared for an acoustic set just were entirely not up to snuff? Harmonies were off, new songs did not thrill me. I gave all my attention for a rendition of "Days Like This" but otherwise there wasn't much excitement to be had.

Lord knows I'll give them another shot, anyone can have an off night, because 10 years ago they were truly brilliant. Otherwise, maybe sleeping dogs should just be allowed to lie.

Aging Madonna still too damn scary for TV

I was so pleased that NBC saw fit to run the full 2-hour video of Madonna’s Confessions Tour on Wednesday night. Even I was surprised that I attended this music spectacle a few months ago when it rolled through Boston and certainly felt I got my money’s worth when among other things Madonna:

1) Arrived on stage inside of a giant
disco ball that dropped from the
ceiling,

2) Did an erotic bump and grind on a saddle suspended in mid-air to "Like a Virgin"
and

3) Made a bunch of political statements with her music that probably aren’t really
quite as deep as she thinks they are. But hey, she’s Madonna, what do you want?

The downside of seeing the show on network TV however, was realizing how American culture has become so lame that even a 48 year-old married mother of two (three?) can be easily judged as far too scandalous for the common viewer. The network apparently were the ones who made the decision to not show Madonna rising from the stage nailed to a giant disco ball cross while singing “Live to Tell” and later in the midst of “I Love New York” also cut out her comment which replaces the lyric “Just go to Texas, isn’t that where they golf?” with “Just go to Texas, and you can suck George Bush's dick”

It’s lame enough that NBC is so afraid of some kind of Christian backlash that they knocked out Madonna’s big fat crucifixion scene (as if any of these people had tuned in to begin with?), but why is a network deciding to chop out Madonna’s comments on Bush? Would Fox be so quick to cut out the political views of any of their ultra-conservative commentators (no matter how profane)? Or is that kind of language only OK in Girls Gone Wild ads? Obviously the lady herself doesn’t much care if anyone knows her politics – she changes this lyric at every show she does. Regardless of NBC's censoring, some markets were still just too plain scared to show the show. In Chattanooga, Knoxville, Reno, Ft. Wayne, Bloomington, and Atlanta TV bigwigs too offended by a number of “questionable scenes and content” opted instead to go for footage of the local aquarium among other sure-fire ratings getters.

At the end of the day I guess we can all thank NBC’s censors to be there to save us from Madonna being... Madonna. Even approaching half a century, there’s still something about her that scares the hell out of people. Well that sounds like something to be admired.