Flaming Pablum

Back to Tramps

Tramps on West 21st street stopped being Tramps in 2001, at which point it became a hip hop-centric lounge by the name of Centro-Fly and then a gimmicky club called Duvet, which was filled with beds (geddit?). I never darkened the door of the place during those last two dubious incarnations, but as Tramps, it was a regular stop of mine.

Off the top of my head, I saw Matthew Sweet, Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians, the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Nashville Pussy (I took that picture up top of them), the Hellacopters, Prong, The Wedding Present, James, Elastica, Pigface, the Kitchens of Distinction, Barkmarket, jazz dude Ronald Shannon Jackson, my beloved Cop Shoot Cop and about a dozen other bands I can’t recall at the moment in that awesome little space. It’s fair to say that I never had a bad time there. When it closed its doors, I was thoroughly bummed.

It was also a cool strip. Up the block, towards 5th Avenue, there was the Sound Factory and Danceteria. There was also a bar whose name escapes me in the spot that is now the Shaffer City Oyster Bar that was cool. It’s gone too, of course.

In any case, when am I moaning about all this now? Well, earlier this week, I happened to walk down West 21st Street for the first time in quite a while. Like I said, Tramp’s has been gone since about 2001, but I was somewhat blown away to see that the site it formerly occupied is no longer a club or venue of any kind anymore. That same spot where I spent so many nights experiencing more great live music than I could shake a stick at … is now a stationary boutique called Envelopers. That's it in the picture below.

I found that to be depressing.

Say What?

Hey all,

For some reason, I’m hearing that a few folks are having trouble posting comments on various posts here. I myself have had similar problems in replying to a few comments. Not sure what’s up with TypePad, but do please keep trying.

In a worst case scenario, please feel free to submit your comment via my e-mail (click on “Email Me” in the top left corner, under that antiquated photograph of me on Ellis Island in 1996) and I’ll post it accordingly (provided it’s not rife with needlessly abusive potty talk, threats or pleas to buy counterfeit Prada handbags).

Like every blogger, I’m starved for attention and feedback, so don’t keep your comments to yourself.

Thankya,

Alex

The Picture Purge: Other People's Pics Edition

Hey again, gang...

Alright, so you know how over the past couple of days I put up three separate posts of old photographs of mine to free up space on my computer? Well, yes, that was fun wasn't it. In any case, I'm not done just yet, but this time, there's a difference.

At some point, I started a folder of photographs to collect images (taken by other people) of New York from various bygone ages. Had I the opportunity to do it all again, I'd have been more meticulous and reverent in my information-gathering, as I currently have no clue of the true provenance (as a chef might say) of these particular photographs (although a good portion of them probably came from this website and this website, two antiquated forums devoted to sharing this type of content). Either I was convinced that one or both of those sites were about to disappear, or I had some grand design for pulling these images off them. But now they're on my desktop, and I've no idea what my original plan was.

That all said, I did pull them off for a reason. Each one of them has some significance to me. As such, here's a selection of my favorites, appended with explanations as to why. Sadly, I have no idea who took them or when they were taken.

This first one is a shot of Fifth Avenue, looking south from about 90th Street on the Central Park Side (but a stone's throw from the Engineer's Gate). If I had to put a date on it, I'd suggest some time in the 1970s, given the look of the automobiles. That rounded facade is, of course, the Gugenheim Museum. This particular image resonated with me, as it's the neighborhood I went to grade school in. St. David's School is tucked away behind that corner of East 89th Street.

If you're not familiar with the Gugenheim, it's well worth a trip uptown to visit it. You may recognize it from its many cameos in films as wide ranging as "Men In Black" to "American Psycho" to "The Spanish Prisoner" to "Downtown `81." Not too long back, I put up a shot of the Beastie Boys posing in front of it, dressed like a trio of suitably yuppified fops.

This one's way back downtown, and probably a little later (very early 80's, maybe?) This is Lafayette Street, just south of Great Jones Street. Both the diner in the middle-ground and the gas station to the right are long gone. On the other side of the street, you can see the building that later become the Life Cafe and then the laughable Chinatown Brasserie (which has also since closed -- soon to be something else). Just above that is what was Tower Video. All very different now, of course.

Here's a closer shot of the corner above, looking North on Lafayette. The car wash became an auto repair shop (now closed) and around the corner from that on Great Jones heading East was the Acme Bar & Grill (closed and since re-opened under new management, I believe).

Also probably from the `70's, this shot below is Houston Street looking West from just a few steps off of Broadway. Where that sign as "Loft For Rent" is now the Angelica Theater. Lots of development on this strip has ensued since this photograph, obviously.

Ah, this is where Thompson Street meets Broome down in SoHo. I've spoken about this spot fondly before, as when I first started exploring this area downtown, that facade was covered with a mural by an artist named Stefano of the Mona Lisa (you can see it here and here). Today, there's a billboard there, of course.

Back uptown, this is the Market Diner on 11th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen. It's still there, actually, but back in the 70's, there was some bad bits of business carried out here by the Irish mob, which is all slavishly detailed in T.J. English's awesome true crime epic, "The Westies." In the 90's, meanwhile, the basement of this diner was turned into a dance club that I was dragged to a couple of times called Big City Diner. That's long gone.

Back downtown again, this topless bar is what was later known as the Baby Doll Lounge, on the corner of Church and White Streets in TriBeCa. It's long gone now (and now a high-end Italian eatery, I want to say). I regret to say that I did indeed darken the doors of the Baby Doll at one point, and seemingly not even that long ago. My friend John and I went to see Jonathan Richman perform at the Knitting Factory (now also gone), and afterwards, we repaired to the Baby Doll for a beer as a lark. It wasn't entirely pleasant nor especially titillating. Actually, it was pretty depressing. If I'm not mistaken, it too makes a cameo in "Downtown `81."

 

The Picture Purge: Third Batch

By this point, this probably just seems like a shallow fishing expedition for clicks and compliments, but I really am trying to dump stuff off my hard drive. In any case, here are more photographs I took in the 90's and 00's. Some have been posted here before. Some haven't. Enjoy.

 

The Picture Purge: Second Batch

As I explained last night, I have way too many folders of weighty JPEGs of photographs I shot back in the 90's and 00's taking up precious space on my computer. So, I'm getting rid of'em. But before I do, I figured I might as well share'em here first.

You may have seen some of these on earlier posts here. You may have seen some of'em on my Flickr page. Maybe you've seen none of them! Whatever. Here they are, in any case. I hope you enjoy'em. If you have any questions about any of'em, shoot me a note, and I'll do my best to answer.

Still more to come in a little bit.

The Picture Purge

My computer is swiftly becoming out of date and overloaded. It practically wheezes every time I log on. I'm forever trying to make space and lighten its load. On my desktop, I have folder upon folder of weighty photographs I've snapped over the years. Some of them I've put up here. Some of them I haven't (or I don't think I have).

In an effort to provide some relief to my withering iMac, I'm going to put'em up here and purge'em from my desktop. As such, here they are in no particular order. These are predominantly from the 90's and 00's. You may recognize a few from previous posts.

Please enjoy.

There will be more.

Missing Pieces

In recent weeks, I’ve penned a couple of posts about storied New York City bands – namely The Lounge Lizards and SWANS -- and was very surprised to have had members of both of those bands weigh in down in the comments section (specifically John Lurie and Jarboe, respectively). Here’s another post about a New York City band, albeit a significantly more infamous one. The last two times I written about them, a former band member (Chris Egan) has weighed in. A new trend? We’ll see.

My enduring fascination with the notorious Missing Foundation of the 80's and 90's has been well documented with three windy posts here on Flaming Pablum and a fourth on The New York Nobody Sings. I don't honestly have a tremendously new reason to post about them again here, apart from re-finding this nice post by former Born Against vocalist Sam McPheeters about his own impressions about Missing Foundation. I also found this more recent piece via Souciant, although there aren’t many revelations therein.

Like Sam McPheeters, however, the appeal of Missing Foundation for me remains largely rooted in their menacing mystique, their impenetrably difficult music and the fact that their fearsome notoriety managed to eclipse the band itself. Abated by their inventive campaign of ubiquitous and cryptic graffiti, Missing Foundation palpably managed to strike fear into the hearts of the entire city, largely thanks to a rather laughably alarmist local news story that unintentionally inflated their legitimately blackened reputation into the stuff of legend (see that clip here).

As I wrote back in 2010, Missing Foundation brainchild Peter Missing went on to transform his art and his message into entirely different mediums, abandoning New York City in a rash of alleged F.B.I. harassment, relocating to Berlin and delving into electronic music. Again, when I posted about them back then, I was taken to task in the comments section by a Missing acolyte for not staying current with Peter's more contemporary doings. Fair enough, but from what I could tell, the man's more recent work seemed to lack the incendiary power that fueled early Missing Foundation's ferocious reputation. To be fair, I haven't heard his latest project, Missing Seven Hazard, so I can't speak credibly about it. You can find out more about it, however, via the Humanity Records website (which admittedly doesn't look to have been updated since about 2010).

While sniffing around for other bits of Missing Foundation ephemera to exhume, however, it seems more material of theirs has surfaced on the web in recent years. Via Tumblr, I was excited to find the flyer to the right (click on it to enlarge) of a Missing Foundation show in 1992 (playing alongside the similarly-inclined Black Rain) at a venue dubbed Sweet Jane's. The name didn't register with me at first (apart from the obvious Velvet Underground allusion), but the address did -- 113 Jane Street! Loyal readers of Flaming Pablum and NYC hardcore denizens might recognize that address as the former site of the original Rock Hotel (which I posted about a couple of times, but most notably here). I suppose sometime between its tenure as the Rock Hotel and its time hosting the original incarnation of "Hedwig & the Angry Inch," the space was re-christened Sweet Jane's. One can only speculate how long that lasted.

Below is video footage of what I would assume is the show advertised on the flyer. It probably is the same show, given that Missing Foundation amassed a reputation for rarely being invited back to a venue, given their pronounced penchant for inciting destruction. Years later, that same space has morphed into "The Jane," a boisterously posh bar renowned for bothering its neighbors in a far more dispiriting way than Missing Foundation would ever be able to muster. That said, when they kick into "Burn Trees" at the nine minute mark in the clip below, things get do get a bit hectic.

In more recent years, I started seeing the MF symbol (the iconic upended martini glass) used in conjunction with the Occupy Wall Street movement, which makes a degree of sense, given the more extreme pockets of Occupy's contingency.

What are YOUR recollections about Missing Foundation? 

Back to the Limelight

Hey there, all.

Sorry for the lull in posting, but it's been a strenuously busy week (and it's not over yet). But here's a quick one I thought some of you might enjoy.

I've written about the old Limelight a couple of times here. In the late 80's and early-to-mid 90's, it was still open and operational as one of Manhattan's hottest clubs, and I logged my share of hours within its formerly-sanctified walls. Band wise, I saw Killing Joke, SWANS, Cop Shoot Cop, New Model Army, Gang of Four, Foetus, Vent 414, Britpop also-rans Gene, the Lords of Acid and a few other notables in its storied apse. Then, inevitably, it closed. Then, of course, it turned into a shopping mall.

I've only been there once since that latter transformation, although I gather they've glitzed it up since then considerably. Whatever. I have no interest in ever darkening its doors again. I'd rather remember it for its heady days of sacrilegious hedonism.

Today, the Limelight's Facebook page put up a few archival photos of the place from its days as a house of worship, and I'm passing them along here.

Here it is, from 6th Avenue, in 1902.

And here's its grand interior circa 1946.

Rise Above, Charlie Brown

Spotted in a t-shirt shop on Fifth Avenue this morning....

Stuff You Might Have Missed

It’s a busy week, and it’s only Monday. But here are a couple of things that caught my eye that I thought I’d share. Incidentally, I spotted the above album cover desecration on Facebook last week, and have been chuckling about it ever since.

There were snippets of it in “Nico: Icon,” but Dangerous Minds have unearthed the whole, weird clip! Check out Nico and a young Iggy Pop in “Evening of Light”: “Like ‘The Wicker Man’ on heroin!”

Writer Joe Bonomo extolls the merits of an essay by “Low Life” author/fabled New Yorker, Luc Sante.

Possibly my most favorite thing of the past several months: Bargain Bin Blasphemy!

The always excellent Scouting New York beats me to the punch and writes a piece about my favorite bit of art-gore that I pass on my way to work every single day; the woman brandishing the decaptitated head at the top of the New York Public Library.

Speaking of New York, check out this beautiful, technicolor tour of the NYC of 1949!

Not sure about this, but... 15 reasons why people move to New York City.

Check out my comrade Bryan’s sprawling gigography (updated) of CBGB.

Finally, THIS: