Apologies for the relative slowdown. In light of the news of late, the inane bullshit that is the life and soul of this blog just seems a bit more trivial than usual. I do indeed have another ridiculous photo search on tap (surprisingly soon after my epic-poem-worthy Lunachicks quest), but when the world is otherwise engulfed by both the gun-control debate (please let some meaningful fruition occur this time) and the looming plausibility of a Donald “Cheeto Jesus” Trump administration, trying to pinpoint a street corner a long-defunct punk band once stood on seems a undeniably meaningless.
That all said, my dear friend Drew shot me a video recently that he knew was right up my proverbial street, so I’m sharing it here and now. Consider it a place-holding palette-cleanser.
As detailed on these ancient posts, I was never a credible skateboarder. Sure, I had great respect for the culture and the lingo and the accessories and the attitude, but it terms of the practical application of mastering the actual apparatus, I sucked at it. My attempts to skate were an insult to skateboarding made flesh. As such, it was a clique I could not infiltrate, no matter how many JFA and Suicidal Tendencies albums I owned.
Skateboarding skated on by and further transformed. I honestly don’t know anything about it these days. I mean, I know kids still do it, but I have no clues as to who they emulate, what gear they prefer etc. When I hear a skateboard shredding down my street these days, my first instinct isn’t to marvel at the tricks but rather to make sure my kids aren’t in the line of fire.
Anyway, blah blah blah. Herewith a dreamy promotional video made by the Supreme store in the mid-90’s. Scored by the seemingly incongruous strains of jazz legend John Coltrane, the clip features some stylish footage of the New York City of 1995 (including a fleeting shot of the then-still-standing 7 World Trade Center, above) and a gaggle of insouciant youths skating all over it. Enjoy.