Flaming Pablum

You Oughta Know By Now

Hey there, all. Please pardon the relative slowdown in posting, but I'm actually currently enjoying a fleeting bit of summer vacation at the moment. Fret not. I'll be back presently to resume the regular regimen of tireless idiocy, including the answer to the most recent photo quiz. Look forward to that.

In the interim, I just wanted to shout it out loud that Bob Egan has unleashed a new selection of entries on PopSpots. If you're a music head and/or a fan of arcane NYC trivia, you need to go check it out with the quickness.

I should preface this by saying that no one thinks Bill Joel is more of a lamentable bag of dung than yours truly. If I never heard "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" and/or "The Piano Man" ever again, that would be just fine with me. Seriously, that stuff needs to be put away for good.

Also, there was some point in the mid-80's when ol' B.J. married Christie Brinkley and started dressing like one of the Ramones (black sunglasses, leather jacket) that he really slipped irretrievably over the edge and into a viscous vat of hateful lamentability. 

Anyway, the only reason I'm addressing this is because three of the five new entries on Bob's site are about Billy Joel. In much the same way Bob probably doesn't dig half the crap I regularly listen to and espouse, I am not a fan of all of his favorites, but whatever. I still have tremendous respect for what he does and how he does it, ... even if it's about clowns like Billy Joel.

But, as a show of respect for Bob, I'm actually going to post a Billy Joel video, albeit one with topical resonance for this blog. Here's "A Matter of Trust," shot on St Mark's Place circa 1986. The building Joel and his band are hosting their oh-so-believable impromptu jam session in -- the former site of The Dom and the Electric Circus --  in is no longer there, nor is Dojo across the street. Blink and you may miss the building that would later go onto become Coney Island High just a few steps to the west. Also making fleeting cameos are the Grassroots Tavern and St Mark's Sounds -- both are still there today.

SInce this video was filmed, Billy Joel has pretty much lost his mojo, most of his hair and his wife, who later went on to have two more husbands after the Piano Man. But here they all were in presumably happier days...

Upping the Ante

Alright, after yesterday's whirlwind quiz about King Crimson playing in Central Park -- wherein reader Mark Coleman divined the precise location faster than you can say "Lark's Tongue in Aspic" -- I've decided to present what I would consider a slightly more difficult one (although I already know where it was taken). Answer, if you can,....

1. Who is this?

2. Where exactly was the photograph taken?

3. Which photographer is responsible?

Winners will receive my undying respect and a place at the front of the line to receive a still-as-yet-entirely-non-existent Flaming Pablum t-shirt. So, there's that.

Crimson in the Park Photo Quiz: Solved!

Well, damn, that was certainly quick. And here I thought that this was going to be the big stumperoo!

In any case, reader Mark Coleman nailed it in very short order. King Crimson, as it turns out, did not grace the grass of The Great Lawn, sully the soil of Sheep’s Meadow or brave the boards at the Bandshell with their complex blend of stentorian proggery. Rather, it was the seemingly unlikely environs of the Wollman Skating Rink that played host to Messrs. Fripp, Wetton, Bruford and associates. See photos below.

The second shot, granted, is from 1953, but you can clearly see the same structure the looms in the background of the crowd shot above it.

And as unlikely as I asserted above, Wollman Rink was evidently once a target destination for rock bands, as the Schaefer Music Festival evidently held court there between the pointedly pre-punk days between 1968 and 1976, playing host to a rich, wide array of big name bands.

And, yes – according to this Wikipedia page, evidently King Crimson did play the venue consecutively in 1973 and 1974!

So go know! Here they are, purportedly, from their gig there in 1973. Get your skates on!

Also, Crimso-pendants, I’m well aware that the knot image at the top of this post refers to a totally different incarnation of the band, but I’m keeping it there because I think it looks nice.

Crimson in the Park: The Flaming Pablum Photo Quiz

There seems to be some confusion over when this event actually took place -- 1973 or 1974. According to multiple videos on YouTube (a dubious source, to be sure), King Crimson evidently played in Central Park in July of 1973 (barring the odd clip that, of course does say 1974). According to King Crimson -- or, at least, their website --- the band played Central Park on July 1, 1974. I suppose it's indeed possible that they played the Park twice in two consecutive years on the very same date, but that seems somewhat unlikely, no?

Here's what Crimson mainstay/guitarist extraordinaire Robert Frippp had to say about the concert on the official live recording:

The 10th Collectors' Club release (April, 2000). From the last show of the '72-'74 incarnation on July 1st, 1974. "This was the first gig since the 1969 Crimson where the bottom of my spine registered "out of this world" to the same degree. The 1969 outfit began at the top and then disappeared. This team took two years to get to the same point of being-out-there-ness. As the sun went down and we moved into the ominous bass riff emerging from the "Starless" vocal, red stage lights faded up from behind the band. For me, a stunning theatrical moment highlighting the tension within the piece and the group: a moment of resonance". - Robert Fripp

In any event, this isn't really about the year. This is more about the picture below. Prized from this photo gallery, the below photograph purportedly displays the assembled crowd at this event, and a hirsute mob of spaced-out prog fans it is indeed. Who knew the sprawling bombast of the Crims would have attracted so large a horde? Anyway, while there is plenty of documentation that Crimson did indeed unleash their windy brand of rock epicry on an audience in Central Park in New York City at some point in the early-to-mid 1970's, my little anal-retentive question for you folks is this....

Where exactly in Central Park was this photo taken?

My first guess would be The Great Lawn, but that just doesn't look like any part of the Great Lawn to me. Also, check out that brick structure in the background! It's not ringing any bells for me. Sheep's Meadow? It's not the bandshell. Rumsey Playfield? I just can't place it.

Anyway, that's your mission. Pinpoint where exactly in Central Park this gig happened. Check out the gallery, once again, for more pictures from the gig. As the band's website prophetically asserts: "Understanding is simple. Knowing is complicated" and "Accept nothing less than what is right."

To set the mood...

Click here for more of my thoughts on Crimson.

Back to Bryant Park, a.k.a. "Jazzy Pimp City"

I walk up to work every day either straight up Fifth Avenue or via Broadway and then switch over to 6th Avenue at West 34th Street. If I take the latter route, I find myself walking by Bryant Park as I approach West 42nd Street. For the past couple of months, the Park has had placards on its fence celebrating it's 20th Anniversary. I find that rather confusing, honestly, as surely Bryant Park is older than that, but whatever. In any case, up there on that fence, they have photographs from various incarnations of the Park over the years, and the one above always captivates me as I walk by.

So many people -- myself included -- are keen to look back and wax rhapsodic about how cool and gritty New York City was in decades past. For the most part, I completely stand by that: New York City was a genuinely far more interesting place in, say, 1982 or 1992 that it is now in 2012. That's just a fact. That said, I still find the picture above so completely shocking. In much the same way Bethesda Fountain in Central Park went through a period of disrepair (itself slathered in graffiti but a decade earlier), I find it hard to reconcile how even the statuary at Bryant Park was brazenly subject to this treatment. To stroll through Bryant Park now, you'd never know it had once fallen into such a state.

To peruse more of Bryant Park's history, check out their Flickr page from whence the photo above comes.

Annie's New York

Scouting New York first caught my attention when he did exhaustive location-spottings for such iconic films as "Taxi Driver," "Rosemary's Baby," "Ghostbusters" and ...er... "American Psycho." In much the same way Bob Egan of PopSpots slavishly examines details in identifying famous album cover locations, Scout goes into an equally impressive amount of detail divining film locations (among many other things .... you need to bookmark this blog!) In any case, he's just recently turned his attention to another storied NYC film, "Annie Hall."

While I may beg to differ with him on his opening salvo that "Annie Hall" "may just be the best movie ever made in New York" (let's do get ahold of ourselves, shall we?), his scrupulous attention to cinematic nuance and precise visual detail remains as striking as ever. Check it out here.

Farewell to Forbidden Planet?

Spotted this on my way to work this AM. Not sure if you can tell from the photo, but the interior’s in the process of being cleaned out, and all the stock is out of the window. Guess they’re heading out. Maybe they’re bound for the old location across the street (until recently occupied by No Difference Shoes). Fat chance of that, methinks.

In any case, pour one out for this location, I guess. It is a sad day for we geeks.

ADDENDUM: Stay calm, fellow nerds. According to Gothamist, it's just moving down the block a bit.

More about Forbidden Planet over the years:
You Have Been Judged
Forbidden Broadway
Back to the Planet ... Again
Back to the Planet
Here's Where it Happened

NYC Calling

As we perch precariously over the gaping maw of another July weekend, please enjoy this lovely NYC travelogue from a simpler age, "New York Calling."  Beyond some of the quaint visual trappings of the era of its filming (the 1950's), it's remarkable to note how much looks the same. Talk again on Monday...

Back to Bleecker Bob's

Technically, I'm ripping this off from my pal EV Grieve, but given that I've written about the place a few times here, I think I'm obligated to further spread the word. Click here to check out an amazing and poignant documentary about the soon-to-be-vanished (from its current location, at least) Bleecker Bob's.

In all candor, the emotional resonance that some of the principles bring to this project makes me regret some of the passively derisive things I had to say about Bleecker Bob Plotnik in some of my earlier posts. He may have been occasionally cantankerous and, well, rude, but he's still a human being, and should be respected for his endeavors.

Anyway, click on over to watch it. It's exceptionally well done, I think.

ADDENUM: If, for some reason, you're averse to clicking on the above link, you can now watch this documentary below. Enjoy.

Long After "After Hours"

As I was stepping out to go grab some dinner this evening, I passed by a newsstand with last week's issue of Time Out New York still on display. The cover article was a subject very close to my heart -- "100 BEST NYC FILMS" -- so I bought it and proceeded to page through it as I wolfed down an order of beef with broccoli at Charlie Mom's on 6th Ave. By myself. Like a loser.

In any case, while I was relieved to find most of my favorite movies cited amidst TONY's 100, I was slightly miffed at the comparatively middling ranking of my very favorite film of all time, that being Martin Scorsese's "After Hours" (a film I've laboriously written about here several times). For my money, #13 is not high enough on the list (especially when ranked behind stuff like John Carpenter's "Escape from New York" --- a fine, entertaining film, but in no way better than "After Hours").

With maddening predictability, TONY's encapsulation of the film makes a oversight that I've seen made time and again in way too many citations of the movie, and it never fails to give my virulent pedantic streak a galvanizing jolt.

After Hours (1985)
Martin Scorsese has made bigger movies—that’s inarguable—but none capture the wasteland that was ’80s Soho after midnight better than this black comedy, a time capsule of NYC weirdness. Frantic Griffin Dunne wanders through papier-mâché-strewn artist lofts, the Moondance Diner and the Emerald Pub, all on his desperate way to get back home (or at least to survive the wiles of Teri Garr).—Joshua Rothkopf

Okay, so what's the big deal? Well, lemme just preface my rant by saying that no one loves and misses the Moondance Diner (another thing I've written about several times here before) than me. It was a quintessential, vital organ of the SoHo of yesteryear, and everyone misses it, especially when they gaze upon the eyesore that currently sits in its footprint.

Here's the thing: THE MOONDANCE DINER DOES NOT APPEAR IN ANY SHAPE, WAY OR FORM IN MARTIN SCORSESE'S "AFTER HOURS"!

Hacks just lazily assume it's the Moondance given the fact that the movie's largely about SoHo. Why Scorsese didn't shoot in the Moondance I don't know, but the diner that Marcy drags Paul to (and that Paul periodically returns to throughout the rest of the film) is NOT the Moondance Diner.

So which diner was it?

As can be plainly seen in the screengrab from the exterior shot above and the video below, It was shot at the RIVER DINER at 452 11th Avenue & 37th Street, across from the Javitz Center. Don't bother looking for it today, as it's long gone. The former site of the diner is now a seedy check cashing establishment.

Now, does any of this really matter (especially in 2012)? Well, no ... but it's mistakes like this that drive me up a wall. If you're going to claim to be an authority on something, HOW ABOUT GETTING IT RIGHT?

"SURRENDER, DOROTHY!"