Flaming Pablum

Brutal SoHo

Stumbled upon the truly amazing photograph above in a forum that seemingly dates back to the middle of the last decade dubbed -- appropriately enough -- Brutal New York 1965/95 (I've actually spoken about it here before, but it looks like it's been expanded since then). Believe it or not, that's the northeast corner of West Broadway and Broome Street, shot sometime in the 1970s.

Today, of course, SoHo considerably less rough around the edges. Here's the same corner these days, courtesy of Google maps.

Nobunny Does It Better

I was quite a busy little bunny today. Over at The Job, I penned yet another rumination about the travails of parenting and the mythology of Easter (you may remember me discussing my previous one from last week). Please avail yourselves to it here, but be warned -- it deals in unflinchingly frank terms about the Easter Bunny. If you're not prepared to face up to some hard truths, you'd be better off not clicking.

On other fronts, I also penned a quick little story about the oddest book title of the year: "Cooking With Poo." Should that get your mouth watering, click right here to read it.

Incidentally, I found the frankly disquieting photograph above when I did a Google image search for "Disturbing Easter"

 

Six for Friday

We have ourselves a portable DVD player, we do. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. It's an invaluable tool when it comes to traveling with the kids, be it by plane or car. Buys us a little quiet time. Some years back, I picked up a copy of the "Schoolhouse Rock" DVD compilation -- a sprawling, multi-hour collection of all the classics from my youth. For those who might be unfamiliar with "Schoolhouse Rock," it was this truly innovative series of cartoon shorts that would play in between Saturday morning programs. They were brazenly educational, but brilliant written, composed and executed. One might even say "timeless." Even in this day and age of "Phineas and Ferb" and "Spongebob Squarepants" and "Yo Gabba Gabba" and all the rest of them, my kids took to vintage "Schoolhouse Rock" like fish take to water. Every time I catch them singing along to it, I smile.

In any case, the one below is one of my favorites. Not only is it credibly funky in an indefatigable James Brown kinda way, but I love the sketchy, scribbly animation. I also love the obvious, loving nods to old, 1970's New York City. Right towards the end, the street sign on the corner of West 39th Street gets a visual shout-out, and I'm always reminded of the cover of the Velvet Underground's Loaded when our protagonist descends the subway stairs at the end. You'll see what I mean.

Crank it.

Recent Hits & Misses

Hey gang. For those fair weather readers who are averse to scrolling yet are haunted by the notion of having missed something (I mean, god forbid, right?), herewith a handy breakdown of some recent, arguably noteworthy posts from here on Flaming Pablum. Why not open up your gaping maw and sink your canines into....

High speed city: Take visual sprint through the Manhattan of 1968.

What a gas: Avenue B's old Gas Station makes a fleeting cinematic cameo. 

Youth gone wild: Sonic Youth before Goo. 

Long Gone Kong: A look back at the bicentennial's biggest monster movie. 

Punks in the park: Cheetah Chrome, Lenny Kaye and more combat racism in the bandshell. 

Awesome photographs of vanished Manhattan (and other things), as glimpsed on Flickr. 

Exhuming Channel 2's expose on "combat rock cult" Missing Foundation. 

Still Missing After All These Years

I've spoken about the notorious Missing Foundation here a couple of times in the past, but I recently happened upon one of the installments of CBS News' fabled "expose" on the "combat rock cult," and felt compelled to share it. Whether you remember this frankly ridiculous report and/or the cacophonous sloganeering of Missing Foundation or not, it makes for a compelling slice of East Village nostalgia (a word that would doubtlessly make all parties concerned bristle).

And, for the sake of posterity, here's a little taste of vintage Missing Foundation.

 

Other People's Pictures

Inspired by a recent rumination on West Broadway over on The SoHo Memory Project, I did a Google image search yesterday and was bemused by my findings. I was intrigued by a particular image of some graffiti artists, so I selected that one, only to discover that it was a photo that's I'd already "favorited" on my Flickr account.

There, in one single gallery, were several images I'd similarly cited as faves, and it made for some intriguing viewing (well, for me, obviously). If you're a fan of all things New York City, herein, you'll find photographs of several since-forgotten storefronts, a clutch of stirring, moody black n' white shots of various Manhattan locales and landmarks, brilliant flashes of colorful street art and so much more. The photograph above, for example, (taken by one Leo London) was also snapped on West Broadway, just south of Grand Street looking west, and features one of Rene's old "I Am The Best Artist" murals circa the late 80's/early 90's. Don't bother looking for that now.

You may recognize a few from posts I've put up here on Flaming Pablum in the past. You'll also find a few scattered photos along the way of bands I like and the odd picture that might not make any sense to you, but feel free to ignore those.

But seeing them collected in one spot made me want to share them. Please enjoy.

Please Kill Me ... Again

This is probably news to no one, but for some inexplicable reason, I was blithely unaware of it. “Please Kill Me” by Legs McNeil & Gillian McCain – a.k.a. my favorite book of all goddamn time (eclipsing even geekier titles like “The Martian Chronicles” by Ray Bradbury and “Low-Life” by Luc Sante), has its own web presence, featuring news, stories and profiles and pictures and all sorts of neat-o stuff (and, of course, you can indeed buy yourself a “Please Kill Me” t-shirt.) If you’re as big a sniveling fanboy of this book as I am, you need to go check it out with the quickness.

I’ve mentioned it in passing here before, but I had the distinct pleasure of working with Legs McNeil back at SPIN in the balmy days of 1989 (a saga I tried to encapsulate here). I’ve run into him here and there over the years, and he always gamely pretends to remember me (c’mon, I was an intern… I’d have forgotten me too!) In any case, the man's a living legend, so go check out his site.

The picture above, meanwhile, was snapped of m'self and my daughter Charlotte back in 2007 at the Two Boots Pizza over on West 11th Street. I coveted their autographed "Please Kill Me" poster, and made elaborate plans of how I might sneak it out the door without them noticing. More recently, it seems someone may have succeeded in that venture where I failed, as it doesn't appear on that wall anymore, alas.

The Virtual Line

Just a little while back, I spoke of Simon Reynolds' excellent "Retromania," specifically the passages regarding the changes in how music is consumed and experienced these days. The old models of hoofing it around town, looking for a new release in stores or standing (or camping out) on a line overnight outside of a store just prior to the day of a hotly-anticipated album's release are antiquated and outdated. In our current reality of gadget-assisted immediate gratification, we can scour the internet instead of having to put our pants on and leave our homes. And with actual tactile incarnations of new albums becoming a quaint, unprofitable and unfashionable thing of the past (to some), there's no more fuss and muss. Within a couple of keystrokes, the album is handily downloaded onto the device of your choice (or, I suppose, to an intangible meta-storage space referred to as your "cloud," if I have my facts right).

This is all fine and good (well, no it's not), but I noticed a peculiar hold-over from the old way of doing things. My beloved Killing Joke is poised precariously on the eve of releasing a brand new album, MMXII. From what has been leaked thus far, it promises to be a barn-stormer. I plan on getting my mitts on it (and by "it," I mean the physical compact disc) as soon as humanly possible. The odd thing is that there's an offer to pre-order the album on iTunes.

What's the point of that?

Time was you pre-ordered something so you could get your hands on it first, or at the very least, have a copy reserved (i.e. set one aside with your name on it). That made sense. There'd be a finite supply and the release could easily sell out, and then you'd be left either waiting longer, or trudging about to other outlets, trying to put your hand to it.

With iTunes, though, the album will become available at the appointed time, and -- honestly -- that will be that. It's not like iTunes is going to suddenly run out of it.

Of course, it's simply the music industry's ploy to maximize profits -- stoking the flames of anticipation by creating the aura of rarified, limited supply. ACT NOW!, etc. But it seems so out of step with the rest of the scheme.

Hunt ... or Be Hunted

Easter is coming. I know, I know – try to contain yourselves. Over at The Job, to whet our users’ appetites for the holiday, I whipped up a quick post about the origins of the Easter Bunny and the frankly bizarre and arguably incongruous practices of dying eggs to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. You can read that here, if you like.

The entire time I was composing it, however, I kept on trying to think of a way to invoke Egg Hunt, the criminally short-lived post-Minor Threat project of Ian MacKaye and Jeff Nelson. I remember buying the 7” single in 1986 and totally cherishing it – imagining that it was going to be a long-lasting endeavor. Of course, it didn’t turn out that way. Ian soldiered on briefly with his band Embrace before collaborating with Ministry as Pailhead and finally forming the mighty Fugazi. These days, of course, Fugazi is on hold and Ian’s playing in The Evens, who make children’s music.

I’m honestly not sure what Jeff Nelson’s been up to beyond a fleeting stint playing in a short-lived psychedelic pop band in the early 90’s called Senator Flux.

In any case here are Egg Hunt’s only two songs, the better one being “We All Fall Down.” “Me and You” is fine, but no great shakes. Listen closely and it sounds – however tenuously -- like Jane’s Addiction completely ripped it off a few years later for “Up on the Beach,” the opening cut of Nothing’s Shocking.

Happy egg hunting.

Friday