Flaming Pablum

Favorites of Ferris

I’m not quite sure how this topic came up, but I found myself involved in a deeply trivial discussion with some colleagues earlier this week about the cinematic portrayal of the teenage bedroom. From film to film – be it a wacky teen rom-com or a serious drama or low budget horror flick, the same signifiers and clichés abound. These usually involve “Stay Out” signs, dart boards, at least one weathered stuffed animal, traffic signage (maybe I was an oddball kid, but I certainly never owned a STOP or ONE WAY sign, let alone harbored a desire to possess one) and the odd musical instrument. The most prevalent element, however, is the obligatory rock poster.

A friend of mine pointed out that the petulant teen at the center of James Cameron’s arguably ridiculous “Terminator 2” had posters on his wall of Public Enemy, Guns `N’ Roses and New York City’s own frowny Prong. My friend considered this incongruous, suggesting that G’N’R didn’t sit well with the other two, although I could easily understand how a teenage-nogoodnick would like all three of those bands simultaneously. I certainly did.

Musically-speaking, during my senior year of high school in 1984, I was going through a “Sophie’s Choice”-like dilemma. Though I was still deeply enamored of lots of slackjawed metal bands, I’d become much more enthused about the still-percolating early hardcore scene (which wouldn’t flame out and splinter until another year or two, depending on who you ask). I was also into a bunch of skinny-tied new wave bands and even the odd prog ensemble. Witness my bedroom wall below from the summer of 1984, shamelessly flying the colors of the richly un-hip Marillion next to Black Sabbath, the Sex Pistols and, of course, Killing Joke. (A bonus quiz for punky trainspotters: There are lyric-sheet posters from three different hardcore compilations in this picture. Can you name the three compilations?)

Anyway, I countered my friend’s “T2” citation with what I perceived as a more extreme example, that being the room of the celebrated protagonist of John Hughes’ 1986 masterpiece, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

Alongside lots of the afore-cited clichéd detritus in his room, the evidence that adorns the walls suggests that our Ferris was a bit of an eclectic music head. While he may have been prone in the film to croon and lip-synch old timey standards like Wayne Newtown’s “Danke Schoen” and perennial Beatle ditties like “Twist & Shout,” the décor on Bueller’s wall suggests some comparatively exotic fare.

Even upon my first viewing of the iconic coming-of-age opus, my eyes immediately spotted the tune-specific items in Bueller’s room. There are three that are hard to miss: A massive promo poster for the “Slave to Love” single by Bryan Ferry, a large poster advertising Micro-Phonies, the album by industrial pioneers Cabaret Voltaire and a third featuring the heavily bequiffed likeness of since-forgotten Charlie Sexton. Of this unholy triumvirate, I’d say it’s Bryan Ferry that made the most sense. Like Ferry himself, Bueller is a sharply-dressed debonair cat. I can see how Ferris would be a fan of his. Cabaret Voltaire, meanwhile, are kind of a different story. Though 1984 ‘s Micro-Phonies is a comparatively poppy affair next to their earlier electronic work, it’s still pretty left-of-the-dial stuff. Then again, Ferris is a resident of suburban Chicago, home of the seminal industrial label, Wax Tracks.

Closer scrutiny around the Bueller boudoir reveals promotional posters by Killing Joke (specifically the mini-flyer that came with the 12” of 1985’s “Love Like Blood Single,” although it looks like Ferris cut it up to make it fit the space), Simple Minds, synth-duo Blancmange, The Damned (specifically the Phantasmagoria album) and a couple by goth-popsters, Flesh For Lulu.

Overall, it seems the set-director was either given a directive to scout for “haircut bands,” or perhaps these were just personal favorites of director John Hughes, renowned for being particular about the music played and represented in his films.

Still…. Charlie Sexton? Fail.

Bearing all this mind, it being the 80’s, Ferris would have doubtlessly made a few mixtapes. Based on his taste in interior decorating, I’d imagine the playlist being something like the below.

LIFE MOVES PRETTY FAST - THE MIXTAPE:

"Sensoria" by Cabaret Voltaire
"Slave to Love" by Bryan Ferry
"Kings & Queens" by Killing Joke
"Up on a Catwalk" by Simple Minds
"Beat So Lonely" by Charlie Sexton
"Street of Dreams" by The Damned
"Living on the Ceiling" by Blancmange
"I Go Crazy" by Flesh for Lulu
"Danke Schoen" by Wayne Newton 

Metropolitan Museum loses its metal

The news is already out there, but I was so shocked upon reading it that I thought a mention of it belonged here. As reported in the New York Daily News and the New York Times, evidently the Metropolitan Museum is abandoning its metal admission lapel buttons. This made me suddenly very sad.

While possibly not quite as iconic as, say, the subway token, the Metropolitan button seems entirely interwoven with growing up on the Upper East Side. As kids, my mother would often take us there and let us wander the museum for hours on end. To this day, I can still find my way around it with my eyes practically closed. 

That isn't changing, of course. The museum's staying put. But as its metal buttons vanish, so does a part of my childhood.

Sigh.

New York City Tonight

It's been a crazy busy week, and it's effectively now a crazy busy summer. I'll have more up here soon, but I just wanted to take a second to point out that today is the 20th anniversary of the death of GG Allin (who I wrote about initially here and more recently here). Two decades have passed since his tumultuous final performance at The Gas Station. That space is now a Duane Reade surrounded by new develolpment. The New York City GG knew is pretty much now as gone as he is.

Granted, GG wasn't for everyone, but here he is circa 1982, in uncharacteristically melodic form, crooning about that city that no longer really exists.

Have a nice weekend, all.

Not So Sweet

There’s a lot of legitimate news breaking today, so this is fairly small potatoes by comparison, but I spotted the below photo on the ever-excellent Facebook page, New York Hardcore Chronicles 1979-2013, and felt compelled to share it (given how much coverage I gave to the long, painful demise of Bleecker Bob’s).

Choke on your yogurt.

Rest in Peace, Spud

Sad news for Devo fans: The human metronome succumbs to cancer. Pour one out.

"Back Then, Nobody Called it The 'East Village'!"

A couple of weeks back, EV Grieve posted a bounce piece on the news that Facebook was transferring its base of operations to the old Wannamaker building on Astor Place, saying it had been reported that the move was to "Midtown South." Predictably, this struck a few chords of outrage. Astor Place -- gentrified or not -- is by its very geographical placement downtown. That cannot be changed, regardless of the real estate development and corporate infestation that may occur upon it. But even when applied with relative accuracy, Midtown South (which arguably stretches from 30th Street to 44th Street) seems like a fairly ridiculous distinction. Midtown is midtown. Downtown is downtown. Uptown is uptown. Figure it out.

More to the point, though, people understandably bristle at moves to re-christen neighborhoods. Witness the bile over trying to re-cast Hell's Kitchen -- a neighborhood rich with gritty, violent history -- as the comparatively squeaky-clean "Clinton." Then, of course, there are the cutesy little abbreviations like NoLita (North of Little Italy), MePa (Meat Packing District) and FiDi (Financial District). Real estate developers hell bent on harvesting opportunities in areas of town heretofore considered "undesirable" feel that by re-imagining the monikers of those clusters of streets, they can summarily whitewash and project a new, shiny and arguably more palatable identity upon them. It's happened before.

The other day, though, another seemingly divisive term caught my attention, and it begged some larger questions.

When, again, EV Grieve posted his amazing find earlier this week of Iggy Pop giving a tour of his turf on and around Avenue B in 1993 (which spread to a wide variety of outlets), some comments around social media were quick to point out that the very words "East Village" were never mentioned. Mr. Pop himself refers to his particular area as Alphabet City (itself a term that seems to be used less frequently these days). Fair enough. For some folks, the perceived eastern border of The East Village is on the Avenue A side of Tompkins Square Park. In his celebrated rock n' roll walking tours, erstwhile Cro-Mags lead singer John Joseph firmly asserts that back in the day, no one ever called it "the East Village." To his recollection, it was always simply the Lower East Side. Backing up Joseph's claim, never once in, say, "East Side Beat" by the Toasters from 1987's SkaBoom are the words "East Village" mentioned either. 

But, obviously, at some point, someone started calling the neighborhood that -- and it certainly stuck.

I remember interviewing Sonic Youth in the summer of 1990 (just prior to the release of Goo) and a colleague of mine asked them what "EVOL" (the title of their 1986 album) meant. Thurston Moore chuckled and suggested that it was an acronym for "East Village OverLords."

Well predating Thurston's jest, however, there was, of course, the East Village Eye, a credibly hip downtown periodical (i.e. not one orchestrated by entrepreneurial Real Estate conquistadors) that starting publishing as early as 1979.

Personally speaking, as far back as I can remember (or at least as far back as when I started exploring the neighborhood in the 1980s), it was never anything but the East Village, but then -- I was a snot-nosed poser from the Upper East Side (arguably not unlike the Cro-Mags' own Paris Mayhew), so my dilettantish recollections may not count for much.

Beyond that, there seems to be an ongoing, amorphous debate and/or fundamental misunderstanding of where the boundaries of this fabled East Village actually are. Actor/firebrand Alec Baldwin -- who lives on East 10th between Broadway and University Place -- has continually referred to his neighborhood as the East Village. While, yes, University Place is east of Fifth Avenue (which technically situates it on the east side of Manhattan), it is by no means considered by anyone else who lives there the East Village. Why Alec seems to think otherwise is a mystery, although -- let's be honest -- ultimately, he's from Massapequa, Long Island, so why should he be an authority?

As such, I now defer to Wikipedia as to the backstory of the East Village (for whatever that's worth):

The East Village is a neighborhood in the borough of Manhattan in New York City, lying east of Greenwich Village, south of Gramercy and Stuyvesant Town, and north of the Lower East Side...

Definitions vary, but generally the East Village is considered to be the area east of Third Avenue and the Bowery to the East River, between 14th Street and Houston Street.

Until the mid-1960s, the area was simply the northern part of the Lower East Side, with a similar culture of immigrant, working class life. In the 1950s the migration of Beatniks into the neighborhood later attracted hippies, musicians and artists well into 1960s. The area was dubbed the "East Village", to dissociate it from the image of slums evoked by the Lower East Side. According to The New York Times, a 1964 guide called Earl Wilson's New York wrote that "artists, poets and promoters of coffeehouses from Greenwich Village are trying to remelt the neighborhood under the high-sounding name of 'East Village.'"

Newcomers and real estate brokers popularized the new name, and the term was adopted by the popular media by the mid-1960s. In 1966 a weekly newspaper, The East Village Other, appeared and The New York Times declared that the neighborhood "had come to be known" as the East Village in the June 5, 1967 edition.

So, there you have it. Who wants to argue with the New York Times?

Today, of course, no matter how you choose to define, characterize, deride, ignore or reminisce about the area popularly referred to as the East Village, the neighborhood (and its surrounding environs) are in a period of flux. One suspects that in relative short order, no matter what you call those streets, its name will matter less and less moving forward.

What about you? What are your thoughts, associations and borders (if you consider any) of the East Village?

I Surrender

Honestly, it’s been a shit week. Lots going on. I’d have liked to have put more up here, but time and energy simply did not permit.There have been loads of things worthy of yet another Stuff You Might Have Missed post, but I couldn’t help noticing that the excellent J.Yuenger has already aggregated some of the ones I was planning on highlighting, so check that link out now if you are fascinated by awesomeness.

I do have a long post in the works about the East Village, but that’s all I’ll say about it for now. Hopefully, I can roll that out soon. In the interim, go check out J’s site once again, and enjoy the images below that have been eating up bandwidth on my desktop. Oh, and have a nice weekend.

 

The Psychedelic Furs at the old Venus Records on West 8th Street for an in-store signing and video shoot for "Run and Run." Photograph by Gene Shaw.

Are we not men? We are LEGO

Just a nice shot of the Guggenheim...

An old press release (spotted on eBay) for the Missing Foundation catalog on Restless Records. Fun fact: That New York Review of Records blurb at the top? I wrote that. Click on it to enlarge.

Old School D.C. hardcore luminaries...

Admonition on Park Avenue South...

You Had Your Chance

Already? More Stuff You Might Have Missed

I know I just did one of these the other day, but here are a few other items that you ought to check out. 

• Compelling evidence as to why Cap'n Crunch should be court marshalled.

• I've never enjoyed the taste of Red Bull, but check out their history of 99 Records.

• Awesome live footage of KONK doing their thing in Tompkins Square Park in 1986.

• Russell Simins of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion is a PUNK ROCK FOODIE!

• The Quietus conducts an excellent interview with the mighty NoMeansNo.

• Witness the metallic pre-teen majesty of Unlocking the Truth! I love these kids.
• Lastly, the new Melvins cover album, Everybody Loves Sausages, is a monster. Check out their beefily produced cover of "Warhead" by Flaming Pablum favorites Venom, with Scott Kelly of Neurosis on vocals.

Iggy & the City

My comrade EV Grieve made an amazing find and posted a clip of Iggy Pop touring his former neighborhood of the East Village circa 1993 (a year I wrote about just recently). Watch as Mr. Pop strolls through the urban byways of Alphabet City, discussing the neighborhood, music, street art, cinema and more.

The difference twenty years has taken on the city -- and, of course, on Ig himself -- is striking, although I'd suggest Iggy wears his years better than the Lower East Side does. Check it out at ONCE!