Flaming Pablum

Back to the `Front

The New York Hardcore Chronicles (which, you might remember, I raved about here) posted the below clip on Facebook earlier today, and I felt compelled to share it. You’re welcome.

Herewith the NYHC stalwarts in the mighty Agnostic Front unleashing their own brand of burly Hell in the rear of what is now John Varvatos’ bespoke Bowery boutique, and it’s a rollicking, brutal little taste of what the atmosphere in that room used to be like. As ever, not for the timid.

I still vividly remember being in Bleecker Bob’s (also gone, of course) one afternoon many, many years ago, and seeing the whole Agnostic Front crew (appended by several beefy acolytes) come lumbering in. Circa `84 through `86, they were truly a force to be reckoned with, and not just a little intimidating. I was once heavily fined during my sophomore year of college for playing “The Eliminator” (the opening track off of 1986’s Cause for Alarm, and the second song played in the set captured below) at volumes normally reserved for Zeppelin during “Exam Week.” Yes, I know…whatta rebel!

Anyway, put your boots on, enjoy and mind you don't hurt yourself.

Astor Place Disgrace, Part XXVII

I've written about what Astor Place means to me a few times here, and posted countless images from that particular plot of (fleetingly) open space. As I've alluded before, Astor Place almost singularly represented the geographical epicenter of everything I once held dear. It's odd how one can affix such significance to a specific spot, but there it is.

In any case, over the past several years -- as we all know -- the expanse of Astor Place has been corrupted by what I would consider rampant development, and as has been long-rumored, the upheaval is now poised to get another radical uptick.

EV Grieve passed on a report from Curbed earlier today. Basically, we are poised on the precipice of a "2-year reconstruction project" which will essentialy render what's left of Astor Place into yet another unrecognizable and strenuously characterless office park.

Here's just another look back at its former simplicity. Soak it in while you can.

Stuff You Might Have Missed

I’m still in the throes of the Summer-Autumn transition (kids going back to school, wife starting a new job, work crazy busy, etc.), but I promise to have some beefier, more substantial posts up here again soon, but in the interim, here’s another round-up of crap I saw around the internet that’s captured my interest.

First, check out this animated discussion about vintage “battle jackets” on the I Love Music discussion boards. For what it’s worth, I briefly had a denim vest with a Motorhead patch on the back (the face of the snaggletooth within the Ace of Spades) with UK Subs and Clash patches on the front (both held on with safety pins). I also scrawled the name Killing Joke in the Fire Dances font across the back shoulders and the Venom log beneath the Motorhead patch. It was short-lived, somewhat ridiculous and swiftly fell apart. Still, I loved it.

Punk heroes Legs McNeil and Keith Morris recently got together to discuss the latter’s history in seminal hardcore bands Black Flag and the Circle Jerks, and his current doings in the litigiously-contested FLAG.

While some might immediately think of Ikea and erotica at the invocation of Sweden, the nation’s most famous exports are still probably Abba and legions of frowny metal bands like Arch Enemy, Death Breath, Entombed, Necrophobic, Opeth and Vomitory. That said, as polar as the entities of Abba’s timeless pop and Sweden’s most insidiously inflammatory metal might seem, they evidently have something in common: the espousal of GODLESSNESS.

I’ve put up the video for Belfegore’s “All That I Wanted” here several times over the years, frequently citing that the clip is my favorite video ever made (it is). It was directly in purposely vertigo-inducing fashion by Oscar-winning Polish director Zbigniew Rybczyński. As it turns out, “All That I Wanted” (which was filmed on pier on the Hudson River just north of the World Trade Center in 1984), was not his only rock video. He also shot notable clips for acts like The Art of Noise (“Close to the Edit”), Rush (“Time Stands Still”) and Lou Reed’s deservedly maligned “Original Wrapper” (which was shot in and around TriBeCa). In any case, Rybczyński also filmed the below clip for his fellow countrymen in Warsaw’s seemingly forgotten (though surprisingly prolific) Lady Pank. From the look of it, this was shot on the same strip of undeveloped real estate where the director shot the Belfegore vid. Frankly, that’s pretty much the only reason it’s notable (and I’m being generous).

Lastly, and somewhat inexplicably, here’s Bobby Steele of the Undead recorded live in 2011, singing “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. You’re welcome.

Rough Trade (Finally) Arriving in Brooklyn

This bit of news has got my Facebook feed all aflutter, so I figured I should share it here. Also, being that that I spend an inordinate amount of time here on Flaming Pablum discussing record stores that are vanished or closing, it’s actually nice to be discussing a New York City record shop that is opening.

That’s right, the long-awaited Rough Trade shop in Brooklyn (which I fleetingly alluded to here) has finally got an opening date slated. Like the veritable Chinese Democracy of record shops (I wish I could take full credit for that analogy, but I forgot where I first read it), the fabled British record store will open its first U.S. flagship store (I believe) in the hipster Mecca of Williamsburg.

Am I beside myself? Well, not exactly. Selfishly, I’d much rather see the place open here in Manhattan, but I guess they’ve got to go where the demand is (and where they can afford the rent).

Further selfishly, the opening of Brooklyn’s Rough Trade shop also means that I’ll no longer feel even remotely special for owning a cherished Rough Trade t-shirt that I procured in London at an actual Rough Trade shop off Portobelo Road in Notting Hill. Ah well.

But will I shop there? I’ll certainly go and check it out!

Fear City, USA!

I spotted the above over on Gothamist. It's evidently from a 1970's pamphlet designed to discourage tourism. 

Along those same lines is this cranky documentary from around the same era. Enjoy.

Merry Zarembamas

It’s Peter Zaremba’s birthday. For those who might not recognize the name, Zaremba is the lead singer of The Fleshtones, the preeminent garage band from Queens, New York. I remember first spying this video on that old MTV show, “The Cutting Edge” (which, in retrospect, was basically just one long advertisement for I.R.S. bands, … not that there’s anything wrong with that). I also remember a great segment wherein Zaremba gave an authoritative tour of NYC’s greatest clubs and live music venues of the era. I should try to seek that out.

In any case, crank it up and raise a glass to Peter.

Addendum: If you're fan of Peter's, go check out his blog, BusyBuddy: A Life of Excitement.

Did Marc Jacobs get Skrewed?

Because I have a long history of getting all riled up about such things, my colleague Drew sent me a link to this Brooklyn Vegan article from earlier today (which originally stems from this Gawker piece). In a nutshell, it looks as though cloyingly irritating designer/West Village neighborhood-destroyer Marc Jacobs has appropriated an old logo from the UK oi band Skrewdriver and is selling it as a $70 t-shirt.

Now, usually any time a bit of ephemera from a rock subculture is repurposed by a commercial venture or some fatuous Hollywood fashionista, I predictably light up like an apoplectic pinball machine and start spouting obscenities and declaring war. In this instance, however, I really don’t have a stake. I mean, put simply, I hate Marc Jacobs and Skrewdriver equally.

If you're not familiar with Skrewdriver's oeuvre, suffice to say they're a strenuously shouty gaggle of uber-conservative neo-nazis, responsible for such tuneful ditties as "Shove the Dove," "I Don't Like You" and -- wait for it -- "White Power." The Bay City Rollers they are not.

Of course, if I’m being kind, I could assume that Jacobs – who is Jewish and Gay, two things the not-particularly-enlightened members of Skrewdriver assuredly frown upon -– is making some sort of statement. By usurping a symbol held sacred by slackjawed bigots and making it your own arguably dismantles that particular symbol’s power.

But, honestly, did Marc Jacobs devote that much time to this? Or did he just think it was a cool image and not delve deeper into its meaning?

Twelve Years Later

Like probably every other New Yorker that’s spent a significant amount of time living downtown, I took an awful lot of photographs of the former World Trade Center, whether by design or by accident (they did have a way of working themselves into several pics). While, to my mind, they weren’t the most architecturally inspiring buildings (essentially two flat, grey rods), there was still something very striking about them.

Here are just a couple of shots I took back in 1999 or so. Today seemed like the day to post them if I was ever going to. Those are pigeons, by the way, flying in front of the tower on the right.

Like many other people, I took a roll of photographss of the towers as they burned and when they fell on this day twelve years ago, but I don’t believe there will ever be a reason to put those up. If you’re intent on reliving those particular events, you never have to look very far. 

There’s a new building downtown now, of course. I still find myself saying “where’d that come from?” when I look to the south. It’s quite impressive, but I can’t say it does very much for me. Like everyone else, I imagine, I’d prefer to have the old ones back.... along with the city as it was.

 

Down on the Corner, Wild in the Streets

Spotted this on my comrade Glen E. Friedman’s blog, and felt it worth sharing. Herewith a portion of William H. Whyte’s film about open spaces in cities, filmed right here in the only city that matters.

And speaking of Glen E. Friedman, be sure to check out his latest collaboration with Shepard Fairey, paying tribute to the mighty Keith Morris.

Stuff You Might Have Missed

I drank a Red Bull once, and it immediately made me want to spit up. That notwithstanding, check out Red Bull Music Academy's "abbreviated survey of iconic New York City venues .. and what became of them: "The Rent's Too Damn High."

This one was making the rounds quite a bit this past week, but it is admittedly too great not to share. Courtesy of the amazing Dangerous Minds, enjoy these sublimely isolated Beatle vocal tracks. As a counterpoint, here's a reel of Beatles' bloopers.

This article had my BLOOD BOILING on Friday. Wired is speculating that we're soon to see the demise of the iconic iPod Classic, the device that allows you to carry 160 GB of music around in your pocket. Here's the quote that made my want to go on a killing spree: 

“Honestly, I think it’s time for [the iPod classic] to be retired,” Boundless app CEO Ariel Diaz said. “It may be serving a small space for lots of music in a compact package, but it’s already an antiquated notion as we move to a world of streaming music instead of local MP3s and AACs.”

Hey...SCREW YOU, Ariel! I'LL STREAM WHEN I'M DEAD! Personally speaking, I QUITE LIKE being able to carry most of my music collection around with me, and I SURE AS HELL don't want to have to rely on my connection in order to enjoy my music. Ever ridden on a fuckin' subway? DON'T TAKE AWAY THE iPOD CLASSIC, YOU FASCISTS!!!

Speaking of not wanting to rely on a connection, here's a handy guide for thoroughly erasing yourself from the Internet, courtesy of Huffington Post.

I wan't originally going to post anything about the stupid Miley Cyrus VMA kerfuffle as, frankly, it entirely saturated the media for longer than it should've. Then I spotted an article that really stuck in my brain, so I thought I'd address it here, that being Hipstercrite's Forget Miley: How to Talk to Children About their Shitty Taste in Music.

Look, nobody -- and I mean NOBODY -- hates today's vacuous, lo.com.denom pop more than yours truly, and I entirely agree with the assertion that the likes of Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke and their ilk make truly, shitty, shitty music, but this article is just going to entirely backfire if taken seriously. I vividly remember my own parents attempting to convince me that the music I was enjoying -- whether it was KISS or the Stones or Pink Floyd or Cheap Trick or Twisted Sister or The Clash or Black Flag -- was similarly devoid of any merit whatsoever, and you know what? That argument only reinforced my suspicions and made me cherish the music in question all the more. 

Bottom line: Parents aren't supposed to understand, appreciate and/or espouse the music their kids like. It's not for us. Sure, I play music around my kids, and love it when they're able to sing along with, say, "Uncontrollable Urge" by Devo, but there's going to come a point when they discover their own favorite music, and I'll invariably hate it, but I'm going to attempt to keep my very big mouth shut when that happens. I can only hope that it's not something as stupid, derivative and offensive as "Blurred Lines." I'm just going to have faith in my kids' own abilities to avoid abject bullshit when they hear it.

Regarding music that doesn't entirely suck out loud, however, it seems there's a new exhibition of rarified Clash ephemera going on in London's Soho. This is invariably timed to promote the band's sprawling new box set (a lovely artifact that I shall not be purchasing). Regardless, if you want to co check out the bass Paul Simonon smashed the shit out (as depicted on the iconic sleeve of London Calling), that's where you'll find out.

Lastly, back on the New York tip, check out this lovely collection of photographs of the daily life of the NYPD in the 1970's (including this awesome St. Marks Place shot above). Enjoy!