Flaming Pablum

11 Years Gone

It's tax day. Were that not depressing enough, it's also the anniversary of Joey Ramone's untimely death. I don't have too much more to bring to the table on the subject that hasn't already been said a bajillion times. But here's a little piece I wrote regarding the passing of the great man back in 2009. Hats off to Joey.

Lights Out for the Lakeside Lounge

I was heartbroken to read on Joe Bonomo's blog (and have it supported on EV Grieve) yesterday that the Lakeside Lounge on Avenue B is slated to close at the end of the month. Yet another bastion of my misspent quasi-youth gets the keys the street.

I can't remember the first time I set foot in the Lakeside Lounge, but it was probably shortly after I moved to East 12th Street. Walking into the place was a revelation -- dimly lit, divey and cool. I can't possibly count the number of evenings I'd go onto log in the place. From the absolutely mind-blowing jukebox (garage rock, vintage r'n'b, rockabilly, British Invasion, and a healthy dose of late 70's punk rock) to the photo booth (sort of a cliche now, but authentic and old school), to the cheap beers -- the Lakeside Lounge was absolutely perfect.

My favorite place was the front window box. My friend Rob B. and I frequently held court in that space, watching the East Village stroll by whilst we did irreparable damage to our hearing and our livers.

Another favorite aspect of the Lakeside was Leslie the bartender. I have no idea if she's still around, but we used to annoy the crap out of that poor lady, but she was always good natured about it. A tough-as-nails redhead, Leslie tended bar at the Lakeside and moonlighted in her own band, The Prissteens, who completely rocked. That's her at the top of this post circa spring of 1998 (and you can also see her in this frankly bizarre video).

For a while, the Lakeside also played host to a massive print of Roberta Bayley's cover portrait from the sessions that spawned the first Ramones album cover. It hung sprawlingly over the jukebox, right across from the photo booth. I talked about it at great length in this post, but at some point, the Lakeside parted with the print and it transferred over to the short-lived First Avenue record shop, Wowsville. Having logged many an evening at Lakeside coveting the print (i.e. trying to unsuccessfully divine a way to sneak it out of the bar unnoticed), my friend Rob plunged into a strenuously futile bout of haggling over the print (which came complete with a wad of gun affixed to the frame, courtesy of some forgotten Lakeside patron).

Once I got married, had kids and "settled down," as they say, my nights at the Lakeside Lounge became increasingly fewer and further between. I'd go in for periodic pops when certain friends from out of town came back, but I could no longer call myself anything like a regular anymore. As the years shook out and the neighborhood continued to change/gentrify, the Lakeside lost its storied neighbor to the south, the Life Cafe. I never expected the same fate to befall the Lakeside Lounge, though.

The last I heard about Leslie the bartender was that the Prissteens broke up and she formed another band called Purple Wizard, I believe. Wowsville is long gone as well, replaced by a cell phone emporium.

In any case, I'd suggest stopping into the Lakeside Lounge for a beer sometime very soon for a simple, fleeting taste of what the East Village -- let alone New York City as a whole -- used to be like.

Feel the Pain

Dinosaur Jr. was one of those bands I struggled with. Yeah, I dutifully listened to Bug and You're Living All Over Me back in college and yes, I saw them play live several times (notably with My Bloody Valentine, who blew them off the stage -- figuratively and literally), but there's always been something about J. Mascis' voice that's never appealed. That sleepy drawl just doesn't really work for me. 

Regardless, here's a clip of theirs from 1994. "Feel the Pain," directed by Spike Jonze (who makes a fleeting cameo as a cab driver), finds Mascis and then-bassist Mike Johnson tear-assing around NYC in a golf cart and putting and driving accordingly. The goofy visuals have precious fuck-all to do with the song, which is just fine. I basically like it more for its homage to Manhattan, but as Dinosur tunes go, it's not a bad one. Shame about that voice, though. Crank it.

Something from Nothing

What I credibly know and like about Hip Hop probably wouldn’t fill up a lot of pages. But growing up in NYC, it was everywhere, so I simply absorbed a lot of it even against my inclinations. While I may have been more interested in listening to bands like Devo, Venom and the Circle Jerks during my high school days, the steady diet of Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five, Houdini, Kurtis Blow and Run-DMC that routinely played in the student commons of my high school infiltrated my brain via osmosis.

I eventually cultivated my own tastes for Hip Hop, thrilling to certain records by Public Enemy, N.W.A., Ice-T, Digital Underground, Das-EFX (why their first album isn’t more celebrated, I’ll never know), Ice Cube, Nas, A Tribe Called Quest, the Wu-Tang Clan, Busta Rhymes and a couple of notable others. I was always a fan of the Beastie Boys as well, although they’re practically a genre unto themselves by this point.

I don’t listen to much Hip Hop these days, and couldn’t honestly give a single crap about Lil Wayne or Kanye or Nicki Minaj, who just seems like she’s TRYING SOOO HARD. Forget that crap. I must begrudgingly admit to liking some of Jay-Z’s stuff, but I’m kind of tired of hearing how godlike he is. Yawn. Enough already.

Anyhoo, one person of mine who DOES know his shit about Hip Hop is my friend Glen. He shot me a note extolling the merits of the film in the trailer below, and waxed at greater length about it on his website. It does look pretty authoritative. At the very least, if this is anything to go by, it will at least feature some lovingly-shot footage of NYC. Check it out.

Bullshot

Exactly how many police does it take to guard a ten-ton bull statue?

Twitpicked initially from here.

Back Underground

Not only is this 1986 documentary (in two parts) compelling for any die-hard Velvets fan, it also features some lovely archival footage of NYC. Turn it up and enjoy.

Times Square Doom Mongering

Courtesy of Retro World

 

Cite the Source

Who can name it?

Back to Astor Place

This has been widely making the rounds, but filmmaker/regular reader/all-around cool-gal Karen Gehres is making a documentary about Astor Place hairstylists. Back in the 80's, Astor Place felt like the center of the universe, and right there, smack dab in the middle was Astor Place hairstylists. It's still there (albeit in a slightly diminished capacity). I frequently take my little son to have his locks lopped off there.

In any case, Karen's trying to raise some dough to finish the project. Chip in here, and watch a clip below.

Happy Easter....

...from all of us at Flaming Pablum.