Flaming Pablum

Word on the Street

Non-Christmas Music That Reminds Me of Christmas #2: "Sunshine in the Shade" by The Fixx

Ask your average person to briefly sum up the popular music of the 1980's, and you're bound to hear a cartoony sketch about skinny ties, synthesizers and slickly overproduced music videos. While there is inarguably some truth to that, there was obviously so much more to the music of the decade in question that simply prefabricated synth-pop. From the roiling vitriol of American hardcore punk to the burgeoning cultural force of hip-hop and all points in between, the `80s had just as much to offer -- if not more -- in the name of envelope-pushing as the oft-rhapsodized `60s and `70's before them. Don’t believe me? Go fetch yourself a copy of Michael Azerrad’s “Our Band Could Be Your Life” or Simon Reynolds’ “Rip it Up and Start Again” and find out for yourself.

While I was indeed immersed in fandom for the less celebrated (at the time) aspects of `80s rock (specifically hardcore, UK post-punk, thrash metal and proto-indie "college rock"), I cannot lie -- I liked a whole big pile of that gratuitous MTV fodder. Sure, I loved the Circle Jerks and Venom and Bauhaus, but I saw absolutely nothing wrong with Heaven 17, Duran Duran, Talk Talk and countless names on the teeming ant-hill of `80s one-hit-wonders. And why not? Many of them made incredible pop music, full stop.

One of those bands -- to my mind -- was The Fixx. Boasting a signature guitar sound just as distinctive of The Edge in U2, The Fixx's Jamie West-Oram perfected a clean, taut, dry style of playing that was (and remains) instantly recognizable. Vocalist Cy Curnin's delivery and abstract lyrics may have seemed overwrought and high-concept at the time, but certainly no less than those of their fellow culprits in myriad other, less-maligned bands. They may not have been the hippest outfit around, but I thought they were pretty cool. And I wasn't alone. Tina Turner even drafted Curnin and West-Oram into her band's ranks circa her Private Dancer tour (you can see them cavorting with the Acid Queen herself in the video for "You Better Be Good To Me," which overflows with West-Oram's chiming riffs).

In any case, The Fixx's third album, Phantoms, was released sometime in the fall of 1984, and I immediately snapped it up (largely on the strength of the impenetrable existential postulation, "Are We Ourselves?"). When I heard they were coming to town that December, I scrambled for tickets, and then spent the ensuing weeks listening to virtually nothing other than Phantoms and Reach the Beach on my walks to and from school. To this day, whenever I hear any track of either of those records, it reminds of strolling around Yorkville and the Upper East Side that are snowy and customarily bedecked in the visual trappings of pre-Christmas anticipation. The Fixx were to play at what at the time was referred to as the very-un-rock'n'roll Felt Forum (later called the equally un-rock'n'roll Paramount and now titled The Theatre at Madison Square Garden). It was a show sponsored by MTV. The masters of ceremony that evening were none other than Martha Quinn and way-pre-scandal Pee-Wee Herman, and the opening act was General Public. Prior to the concert, I remember them handing out MTV buttons with a Christmas theme. They were green and the "TV" was in a candy-cane motif. I believe I still have mine somewhere.

In any case, this remains my favorite track from the Phantoms album (although “Lose Face” isn’t bad either). What the video’s about, I have no idea, although there is a fleeting homage to “Planet of the Apes” and –suitably enough – a Christmas tree.

Non-Christmas Music That Reminds Me of Christmas #1: "(Just Like) Starting Over" by John Lennon

Hey all.. Sorry for the relative slowdown in regular posting, but it being the holiday season, I'm afraid I'm crazy busy at the moment (as are, I'd imagine, most of you). There have been numerous things I've been intending to address here -- everything from the insane annoyance of "SantaCon" last weekend to the sad closing of M.J. Armstrong's, a bar on the East Side named after a high school friend of mine who died on September, 11th -- but, again, there simply haven't been enough hours in the day. `Tis the season.

In any case, I have had one idea for a post -- or multiple posts -- floating around in my head that I'm finally taking the time to tackle. While around this time of year, everyone loves to wheel out and dust off their favorite Yuletide songs (I've certainly done that in the past), I thought it might be interesting to cite a few tunes that -- while in no way discernible as proper "Christmas Music" -- still evoke specific Christmas associations for me. Yeah, it's high concept, but bear with me. Here's the first installment...

1980: "(Just Like) Starting Over" by John Lennon & Yoko Ono
In a perfect world, I'd have put this up last week, on the 31st anniversary of the man's death, but what'cha gonna do? Regardless, while I touched on some of this in this post last year, I've never been able to hear any song off of the Double Fantasy album from 1980 without thinking of the Christmas of that year. To me, they are inextricable.

In that year, I was in 8th grade and just beginning my nascent appreciation for music. I'd long-since graduated out of a phase of listening solely to KISS, and was now exploring everything from Pink Floyd, AC/DC and Black Sabbath through Devo, The Clash, Adam & the Ants and many points beyond. This was also an era when radio seemed to mean so much more. MTV wouldn't rear its head for another year, and wouldn't even make it over to the East Coast until a while after that. As such, I found out about music the old fashioned ways -- through my older sister, through my friends (and their older siblings), from hanging out in record stores and via the good ol' radio.

If memory serves, the go-to rock radio station at the time was WPLJ, whose format still clung tenaciously to classic rock, but with the occasional forays into the new stuff (I still have a recording on cassette of `PLJ segueing from The B-52's "Private Idaho" seamlessly into "Long, Long Way from Home" by Foreigner ... a coupling that would probably never happen on today's programming). In any case, since its release in mid-November, WPLJ had been basically playing John Lennon's Double Fantasy to absolute death (pardon the unfortunate turn of phrase), largely concentrating on "Woman," "Watching the Wheels," "I'm Losing You" and especially "(Just Like) Starting Over." You really couldn't flick on the station for under a half-hour without hearing that tell-tale ding-ding-ding at the intro alerting you that, once again, there was a new John Lennon album that you needed to own. Lord knows you didn't need to go buy it, being that it was being played everywhere, but still ... Double Fantasy was the album of the season.

Having already been a big Beatles fan (they actually pre-dated my slavish fandom for KISS, being that my parents owned several key albums of theirs), I was not at all averse to Lennon's new stuff, but it wasn't until that morning in early December when it took on a new resonance. Without delving too deeply into the obvious, John Lennon's inexplicable murder during the early hours of December 8, 1980 struck a jarring, culture-shifting chord. Again, I pretty much covered the rest of that back on this post from last year, but when my mother gave me a copy of Double Fantasy as a Christmas present that year, it sort of forever fused the bizarre, tragic event of Lennon's passing with Christmas.

If you go on YouTube, there are many video clips for "(Just Like) Starting Over." Some are finer quality than the one below, but I chose this one for its fleeting shots of Lennon and Ono cavorting around New York City, and indelible image to be sure.

Stay tuned ... there will be more to come.

A Very Siouxsie Christmas

Christmas Shoes

"One Day, Lad, All This Will Be Yours..."

This past Sunday, we were invited by another family we've become friends with through our kids' school to the annual children's party at the New York Athletic Club on Central Park South. While I remember attending a wedding reception or two there at distant points in the past, it's not often one gets to hobnob within the stately interiors of one of Manhattan's storied old institutions, so we -- of course -- jumped at the invitation.

The evening was like something out of Whit Stillman's "Metropolitan." If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend going. The crowning touch, however, was my friend Pete's suggestion that we go up and explore the roof deck. Outside of a giant glass solarium, this place has the most amazing terrace that overlooks the entirety of Central Park, and the view is absolutely nothing short of spectacular. I'm not entirely sure the shot above does it justice (click on it to enlarge), but it was truly breath-taking. Thought I'd share it with ya.

Respect Flipper Redux: Don't Be Stupid, Rolling Stone

Loyal reader James Taylor just pointed out that Rolling Stone reported today on the Flipper t-shirt flap that got me so riled up last week, so I dutifully clicked on over to check it out. Under normal circumstances, I'd just laugh this type of bullshit off, but Rolling Stone, last time I checked, still billed itself as a MUSIC magazine. So you'd think, right, that THEY WOULD AT LEAST KNOW THAT FLIPPER WAS A GODDAMN BAND, and not just a rinky-dink little doddle Kurt scrawled on his t-shirt. To read their take on it, you'd never know that fact.

Shame on you, Rolling Stone.

 

R.I.P. Billy's?

I feel like it's been an eternity since I've had the time to walk around certain neighborhoods, but thankfully there are trusty blogs like EV Grieve and Vanishing New York to keep me apprised. I spotted something on the former this morning that bummed me out anew. It seems that Billy's Antiques on Houston is the latest to fall victim to development. Click here to learn more. Below is Billy's circa 1997. Say goodbye.

Tunes for Tannenbaum Procurement

This morning, as Peggy was making the kids breakfast, she turned on a Christmas playlist we'd put together a couple of years ago. I've been grousing about forced Christmas cheer for the past two months (y'know, when it all evidently starts now), but now that we're into the bona fide season, I suppose it makes sense to give it a whirl. The first song, however, to come trilling out of the speakers was "Last Christmas" by Wham! In a nutshell, this made me want to douse the apartment with gasoline, strike a match and hurl bits of burning furniture out at random passers-by on East 9th Street. Hum-fuckin'-bug!

Mercifully, the next set of selections turned out to be the entirety of It's a Charlie Brown Christmas by the ass-whuppin' Vince Guaraldi Trio, which not only restored my mood, but even managed to gracefully inject a bit of the genuine seasonal sentiment into the proceedings. My kids love it as well. Nothing seems to inspire fits of ecstatically spastic improvisational dance in my 5-year-old like "Linus and Lucy." If you don't own it, this record is quite literally unfuckwithable. It is the flawless Christmas artifact. Bing Crosby can fuck right off. I'm sticking with Vince.

Later today, despite the fact that the holiday in question is still about three weeks away, we're gong to pick up our tree. We did the math a couldn't find another suitable spot on the calendar for tannenbaum procurement, so today it shall be. But I still can't believe we're getting the tree this early ... I feel like I only just finished carving that pumpkin.

Where does the time go?

Respect Flipper

UPDATED: Since the debacle I’m laboriously detailing below started breaking – that being Forever 21 selling t-shirts adorned with the logo of storied San Francisco band, Flipper – it seems the outlet has removed the item from their website. Stay tuned for developments.

My colleague Drew forwarded this to me yesterday, and I meant to whip something up about it, but time got away from me and now it's everywhere, so apologies if this is old news.

I first heard the band Flipper courtesy of the 1981 Alternative Tentacles compilation, Let Them Eat Jellybeans, which – as I mentioned back on this ancient post – acted as a great primer for burgeoning hardcore. The opening track on same, meanwhile, was a discordant little ditty that owed precious little to the high-velocity blitzes that marked the rest of the vinyl. “Ha Ha Ha” by Flipper was as brazenly unconventional as anything by Black Flag, the Dead Kenendys or Bad Brains, but asserted itself by being slow as molasses. The song noisily fell out of your speakers in a sloppy torpor, steeped in snide, sneerily-delivered lyrics and cacophonous guitar. Their subversive sound and aesthetic may have seemed artlessly amateurish to many, but there was no one like them. Not yet, at least.

On the strength of "Ha Ha Ha," I picked up Generic Flipper and, later, Gone Fishin' (which featured an excellent cut-and-fold album cover) and played them frequently, much to the confused consternation of my college roommates. A few years later, Flipper vocalist Will Shatter died. Flipper resumed duties without him some time after that, but that's another story.

Despite -- or, perhaps, because -- of Flipper's pointedly indelicate and unwieldy sound, the band became a sizable influence on many bands in their wake, from the Melvins to Pissed Jeans and beyond. One famous fan was --- wait for it -- Kurt Cobain, who wore the Flipper logo (a scrawl of a dead fish) on an appearance on SNL in 1992. That single sartorial act lit something of a match.

Twenty-years after that broadcast, you can suddenly buy Flipper t-shirts at ::::gulp::: Forever 21, a schlocky teen clothiers that caters to the "Glee" set. There's one on Union Square that I've frequently fantasized about burning down.

In any case, here's the paragraph wherein I froth at the mouth with a predictable amount of bloodthirsty vitriol over the brazen appropriation of the iconography of a subculture the likes of Forever 21 has no business even daring to be mentioned in the same sentence with. Blah blah blah...Rant Rant Rant!

Sad but shockingly true: You can buy Flipper t-shirts at Forever 21. If the chiseled pretty boy modeling the shirt in this picture can name a single song by the band, I'll eat my shoe.

DEPRESSING ADDENDUM: As I mentioned at the top of this post, this story is making the rounds. Seattle pi, for example, wrote an embarassing little take on it, failing to ever mention that the Flipper logo long predates Kurt Cobain's sporting of it.. .or that they're even a band. DO YOUR DAMN HOMEWORK, SEATTLE PI! This isn't about Kurt!

12.02.12 UPDATE: The plot thickens, albiet depressingly once again. Courtesy of the Facebook page of Artcore Fanzine, herewith a statement from original Flipper drummer Steve De Pace:

REALITY CHECK.... Death and Taxes has published this article WITHOUT ANY FACT CHECKING. Not to mention that they are far more concerned with Kurt Cobain being ripped of than they are about Flipper. Even our own singer Bruce Loose, jumped the gun and is shouting that we have been ripped off... People talk a lot of shit in this world and make a lot of accusations without checking facts. This design has been licensed to a company that sells the shirt to a lot of different retail outlets. The latest happens to be Forever 21. And FLIPPER is getting paid. Thank you all for your concern!!!
There have been several blogs and lots of concerned Flipper fans, who we appreciate bringing this to our attention. I myself, was informed about the license deal after shit started hitting the fan. According to the blogs, Forever 21 has a sorted reputation when it comes to licensing designs from independent artists. I was not aware of any of this, until yesterday. In this instance, the retailer has gone through proper channels and has licensed this FLIPPER shirt from a company that represents this particular design on our behalf.
Again, I would like to express our appreciation from our fans for letting us know about the shirt being for sale at Forever 21. It is on the up and up, at least this time.... I have seen many bootleg Flipper shirts over the years, but at least this time, Flipper is getting a proper piece of the pie. And if some kids happen to buy a Flipper shirt, and decide they want to know more about Flipper, seek us out and find our music, that is fine with me....

 

Below is Flipper. You won't hear them at Forever 21 ... or, evidently, in the offices of Seattle pi.