Flaming Pablum

Puttin' on the Ritz

Here's a bracing change of pace from The Lovin' Spoonful. You've heard me talk about the mighty Cro-Mags quite a few times here by this point, as well as the storied old downtown venue The Ritz (now Webster Hall). Well, here are both of these things in one aggressive little clip from 1986. My comrade Drew introduced me to this video a couple of years back -- it's evidently spawned from a film called "The Beat," which I've never heard of, let alone seen (you can read a more authoritative account here). Regardless, this footage was filmed at The Ritz and perfectly captures the vibe of what that whole NYHC scene was like at the time, which is to say that it was fairly intense.

It's certainly not for everyone, but try to enjoy.

Been Down, Isn't it a Pity?

I realize it's a bit of a cliche to dust off this ol' warhorse here at the ass-end of July, but it fits the bill. Moreover, this particular video (not that they were called "videos" at the time, but rather nebulous, rarely-seen promotional film strips) fleetingly features some footage of Manhattan circa 1966. I want to say I recognize the park they're horsing around in as Riverside Park on the Upper West Side, but I might be wrong.

There have been myriad covers of this tune -- everyone from Joe Cocker through Regina Spektor. My favorite remains the one by the British indie band EAT from the early 90s (sadly no longer on YouTube). Either way, this one's the original.

In any case, .... stay cool.

Change

From The New Yorker

 

There Can Be Only One

So, of course, the answers to last night's Quick Quiz are...

(a) The western end of Broome & Thompson streets in Soho. And yes.... I have mentioned it here before in this post, and again in this post (where I appended a lovely photograph of it I found on Flickr). I'm surprised you all remember that. Well done. Today, that corner looks yawnsomely like this.

(b) And yes, it's from Russel Mulcahy's "Highlander" from 1985.

It being summer, my wife and kids are off -- god, help them -- with my family out on L.I. (I zip out there every weekend, then back to the city for work). As such, I've been taking advantage of the free rein over the TV and watching favorite films that the wife generally doesn't enjoy. That means high-volume viewings of predictable classics like "Apocalypse Now," "The Warriors" and -- yes, wait for it -- "Highlander."

The first "Highlander" in 1985 is an endearingly ludicrous film, but one of my favorites. It's directed in slavishly over-the-top form by former Duran Duran video-director Russel Mulcahy and rife with lots of strenuously histrionic feats of idiocy. It stars a young Christopher Lambert -- a French actor -- unconvincingly playing a Scot. Meanwhile, Sean Connery -- arguably the greatest Scottish person known to this world -- unconvincingly plays a Spaniard-Egyptian with suitably ridiculous aplomb. And then, of course, there's the very metal Kurgan (that's him up top), hacking people's heads off and quoting Def Leppard lyrics at priests. Obviously, it's awesome.

As an added bonus, however, there are several shots within "Highlander" that lovingly capture mid-80's New York City (despite the fact that large swathes of the film were actually filmed in London). Below are a few more select shots from the film. Can you name these locations?

Quick Quiz

Hi again, all. Lots happening on the homefront at the moment, so I haven't had as much time and cerebral bandwidth to keep things from sliding into a deathly torpor over here. Got some items on the burner, but they may take a little while. In the interim, here's a quick brain-teaser.

I was recently viewing a film from the mid-80s that I'm pretty fond of and a bit of old, vanished downtown fleetingly flashed across the screen (preserved in the screen-grab below). Who can name: (a) the exact location depicted below and (b) the film from whence it's taken? Ready? GO!

Hot in the City

Yes, it's hot.

I can't say I ever remember it being this hot in New York City. Surely, we must be breaking a record or two. I came home last night after work to find that one of our goldfish -- namely Sid Fishous -- had sadly expired. Let me tell you, to come home to a dead goldfish in a sweltering apartment was not the ideal way to end one's day. There's one fish left -- that being Swimmy Goldfinger -- and he's not looking at all well. We'll see if he survives the weekend. Place your bets.

For lack of a better clip, herewith Billy Idol from 1987 or so (his recording of the song actually predates the video by a couple of years, I believe). I remember those ridiculous inflatable fists from seeing him live in Columbus, Ohio (with The Cult opening) in 1987, anyway.

While I was always an unapologetic fan of Billy Idol (more of his days fronting Generation X than his solo career), this was never one of my favorite songs. Give me "Rebel Yell" or "White Wedding" over this every time. The video is also pretty damn ridiculous. Is that Bernard Goetz playing piano? Why is that woman being crucified at the end? It's completely idiotic. But given that (a) it was filmed in NYC and (b) it is very much indeed hot in the city, it seemed like the video to go with.

Stay cool.

Heatwave!

Street Hassle

I find it striking that even here in the comparatively antiseptic New York City of the new millennium, you still see new contenders on the street art scene trying to leave their respective marks. Tags, stencils and sticker-campaigns bearing legends like "Jim Joe," "Neckface," "Celso," "Dickchicken," "MuffinMilk," "You Would" and that incredibly unimaginative "BNE WAS HERE" series have all tried their hand at covering as much wall-space as possible in the hopes of becoming the next Revs, Cost, Banksy or Shepard Fairey. I've always found it pretty fascinating, even if I barely know what half of them actually mean (if anything).

This summer, though, there's a new gunslinger on the streets whose calling card is one that leaves me scratching my head. For the last several weeks, I've noticed that someone has been covering a large amount of downtown walls, doors and other hard surfaces with the barely-legibly-scrawled message "Lou Reed" (see above) and I can't seem to get my brain around it. I mean, sure ... back in high school, I used to routinely scribble the names of my favorite bands on black boards, notebooks, lockers, etc. I must also confess to, in the mid-90', writing "C.$.C. R.I.P." on many an East Village bar bathroom wall out of mourning for the break-up of my beloved Cop Shoot Cop. But I don't necessarily think this tagger is writing "Lou Reed" on walls because he's a fan of Lou's. That just wouldn't make that much sense.

Obviously, Lou Reed himself is a storied New York City patriarch of effortless cool who almost single-handedly embodies everything that made the city a hip, happening town in the first place. Is that the overarching message here? A lament of the city's lost wellspring of bohemian insouciance? And why is the tag so artlessly slapdash? It always looks like it was hastily rendered like an afterthought. As a work of street art, it's hardly that much of a tribute to Mr. Reed.

Anyone have any thoughts? Maybe it's Lou himself ... trying to drum up some hype for his forthcoming and entirely perplexing collaboration with Metallica.

In any case, this mystery is just another excuse to post the endearingly Manhattan-centric (but otherwise strenuously embarrassing) video for Lou's "Original Wrapper." Enjoy

Bloodclot on Bleecker

I've been working the morning shift for the past couple of weeks, meaning I get into the office around 6:45 am and get to split around 3 pm. It's not my favorite rotation, but it does have its benefits, chief among them being that it leaves me some free time in the afternoon. Today, after clocking out of work and heading home to pay a few bills, I found it so hot in the apartment that I switched into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and bounded back outside ... sort of hoping to get caught in the thundershower that is supposedly on the way.

Earlier in the day, I'd read a post on EV Grieve's site that the Mars Bar was finally kaput. As such, I thought I'd stroll over there to take a look for myself. I walked south on Lafayette and took left on Bleecker. Time was when the strip between The Bowery and Lafayette was another one of my favorite blocks in Manhattan. Back in the 80's and 90's, it was this endearingly forbidding circuit-cable that plugged directly into CBGB at the far eastern end. That's all done, of course. The strip is now is dotted with a few shops, bistros and boutiques and doesn't exude the same sense of place it once did. A shame, that.

In any case, after I strolled down Bleecker, I hung a right on the Bowery, crossed over and walked down the still-jarringly unrecognizable 1st street between Bowery and 2nd Avenue. When I first came to know this strip (as I described back on this post), it seemed like something out of "The Road Warrior." The shot above is the northeast corner of 1st street & Bowery shot as recently as 2002. Now it resembles Emerald City in "The Wizard of Oz."

The Mars Bar remains at the corner, although its doors were indeed firmly shut. There weren't any further clues to its status. As I circled back west, a passing crusty-lookin' dude gave me a salute for the Killing Joke shirt I was wearing (and I saluted back), but more about that later.

As I returned to Bleecker Street, I couldn't help but notice a camera crew walking my way. Upon closer inspection, I recognized that it was none other than John "Bloodclot" Joseph of the Cro-Mags. As I mentioned back in this post, John's now giving celebrated walking tours of the East Village (although I believe he refuses to refer to it as such, opting instead for Lower East Side). I didn't recognize the guy interviewing him, but I was quickly shushed off the sidewalk to accommodate them. Basically, John was giving a taste of his walking tour to the interviewer. I'm not sure where this footage will surface, but do look for it and let me know if you see it. As soon as I cleared the crew, I crossed back onto the sidewalk behind them, so if/when you're watching it and you a t-shirt with What's THIS for...! written on the back in bold black font (it looks like this), that'll be me.

As I got further down the block, a pair of bemused restauranteurs stood outside Quartino looking back at the film crew. "Who is that guy?" asked one dude in kitchen-whites. I was going to launch into a laborious song and dance -- as I'm certainly wont to do -- about the Cro-Mags and hardcore and CBGB and all that, but simply smiled and shook my head. If you have to ask, you'll never know. 

Word on the Street