Flaming Pablum

TWENTY Things I Just Do Not Care About

1. "Broad City" ending.
2. "The Sopranos" returning.
3. "Games of Thrones" continuing.
4. R. Kelly's record sales surging in wake of documentary about his predatory sexual exploits.
5. Britney Spears cancelling her Vegas residency.
6. Anything about any Vegas residency.
7. Woodstock's 50th Anniversary
8. Who is going to host the Oscars.
9. Who is performing on "The Masked Singer."
10. Meghan Markle's pregnancy.
11. Jeff Bezos' divorce.
12. Cardi B's parenting tips.
13. What the Fiji Water Girl has to say about her newfound fame.
14. Anything Pete Davidson, Gwyneth Paltrow or Kanye West is saying, doing or thinking.
15. Anything pertaining to professional football in any capacity.
    
    ADDENDUM:
16. Anything to do with Coachella -- who is playing it, who has pulled out of playing it, who is sponsoring it, who is attending, etc. 
17. Chris Pratt's faith-based fitness plan. 
18. ANYTHING faith-based. 
19. Marie Kondo's tips for tidying-up. Fuck off, lady. 
20. The most-liked egg on Instagram. 

Return to Dirty Old Fun City

Astonishingly persistent readers here might remember a post from -– Jesus -– five years ago already wherein I documented the doings of an intrepidly obsessed cinephile named Jonathan Hertzberg. Hertzberg took it upon himself to compose something of a master-reel of footage from New York City-centric cinema from arguably the most adventurous era, that being the 1970’s (and into the very early 80’s). This was all culled into a frankly overwhelming video series called “Dirty Old New York a.k.a. Fun City.” The end results were a location-spotting NYC blogger’s dream, …. kind of the cinematic equivalent to the Beastie Boys’ sample-heavy watershed opus, Paul’s Boutique.

When I’d penned that original post in 2013, Hertzberg had only completed, I believe, two installments of the series, and I somewhat churlishly whined that he hadn’t included any footage from Tony Scott’s “The Hunger,” Milos Foreman’s adaption of the Broadway musical “Hair” and a host of films from later in the 80’s. At the time, Hertzberg himself wrote in. Here’s what he had to say.

Thank you for words and space you've devoted to my "Dirty Old New York" project! These are fluid pieces and have been updated already a few times with more planned, i.e. "missing" footage could and likely will appear in the updates, like firmware. It's hard to have every wanted film on hand at any moment. I was a bound a bit by availability, quality of footage (rules I broke a few times), and time frame (which I also stretched a bit). In general, I was going for DVD-quality, 16x9 footage from approximately '66 to '84. But, this has stretched a bit into '85. I had to stop somewhere or it would keep going, and I was looking for the gritty '70s-like years for the most part and not the period when the '80s started to look like the '80s as we remember it.

DOWNTOWN '81 appears for a bit in Part I and returns in Part III. SUSAN will likely appear in III. HAIR and KING KONG and some of the others you mention should be in there as well.

Tellingly, it’s taken me five goddamn years to get back on board. In the ensuing half-decade, Hertzberg not only completed his series, concluding with a fifth chapter, but did some specialized cuts as well, concentrating on stuff like recurring character actors, a Super 8 reel of New York footage his father shot in 1969 and other fun stuff, all very much worth checking out.

For the sake of this post, I’m going to embed Part IV of “Dirty Old New York aka Fun City” being that a passage of it enjoyably concentrates on “punk vs. disco,” cannily juxtaposing the strangely parallel exploits of John Travolta’s Tony Manero from “Saturday Night Fever” with Richard Hell from “Blank Generation.”

 

Cool, right, well, click here to go to Hertzberg’s Vimeo page to watch the whole series and then some. Tell’em Flaming Pablum sent ya.

Bowie's Day

Today is the birthday, of course, of the late David Bowie, who died three years ago this Thursday, … an event the world is still coming to grips with.

A lot has been said since his passing (I memorialized his impact thusly), and his absence continues to be felt. While we still have his enjoyably vast body of work to explore and/or re-discover, there will sadly be no more from the great man.

Every Bowie fan has their own favorite iteration. While I first warmed to his apocalyptic, proto-goth phase circa Diamond Dogs (the first record of his I acquired after appropriating my older sister’s copy of the ubiquitous ChangesBowie LP), thrilled to the post-punk-imbued Scary Monsters and got swept up in the unabashedly populist reign of the Let’s Dance days (hey, it may have been pure pop for the masses who couldn’t get their heads around his earlier work, but it was still fucking marvelous music), I prefer to remember Bowie preserved in the video below, an augmented outtake from the 1981 film, “Christiane F.”

If you’ve not seen it, don’t get too excited about the film, unless you genuinely enjoy gloomy scenes of squalor, drug abuse and sexual degradation in early 80’s Berlin. That all said, the title character (played by the doe-eyed Natja Brunckhorst, who appears in the latter-half of this clip) is obsessed with Bowie. As such, this is a snippet of “the concert scene,” fleshed out and subtly augmented by a savvy YouTuber named Mister Sussex. Sussex excised most of the narrative elements of this clip (i.e. heroin-addled Euro-teens in varying states of despair) and beefed up the Bowie content. I think he did a pretty great job of it, actually.

Some curious factoids: Bowie & Co. are lip-synching here, but doing it masterfully. Then again, footage of Bowie reading aloud from a phone book would be damn compelling, too, as far as I’m concerned. Secondly, evidently the wide crowd shots meant to imply the expanse of a concert stadium were allegedly lifted from footage of an AC/DC show -– and in the final, released version of “Christiane F.,” there’s even a wide shot wherein AC/DC fleetingly appear –- were the editors on heroin, too?

Thirdly, the Bowie footage was purportedly shot not in Europe but in New York City, somewhere. Based on the grey curtain backdrop, I’m speculating if it wasn’t shot in the confines of the Upper West Side club, Hurrah, where the video for “Fashion” was later shot. Anyone?

While other mitigating factors arguably mire its excellence -– like the fact that this version excises most of the slowly building intro and/or that arguably lamentable guitarist G.E. Smith appears (he later of “SNL” notoriety and also an inexplicably right-leaning wingnut who played this song at the RNC in 2016, seemingly oblivious to its frothy references to the occult and cocaine), it captures a certain period of Bowie’s elegant majesty perfectly. From his signature profile to his popped-collar James Dean jacket, he is the quintessence of cool, here.

It's too late to be hateful.

Whigged Awesome: Whither the Upper Crust?

Upon hearing the disheartening news that The Upper Crust had decided to put their royal selves on “indefinite hiatus” recently, I dialed up some of the fabled Boston band’s finer recorded moments over the holidays, which led me to finally view the 2004 documentary about them (see below).

I’ve mentioned the Upper Crust here a few times, usually in relation to since-shuttered venues like Brownie’s. They were among a coterie of bands like The Unband, Nashville Pussy, The Candy Snatchers, The Pleasure Fuckers and The Lee Harvey Keitel Band, to name a small few, that my friends and I would regularly go see live back in the mid-to-late 90’s, usually at venues like The Continental, Tramp’s and the afore-cited Brownie’s, although I want to say I remember a gig The Upper Crust played on The Frying Pan, a disused barge-turned-live-music-venue, wherein the vessel actually caught fire during the performance. If memory serves, the Upper Crust manfully kept playing as the ship fleetingly burned.

If you’re regrettably unfamiliar, The Upper Crust were originally a quintet who played a high-decibel variant of heavy garage boogie ala AC/DC, whilst dressed like aristocratic fops from the 18th century. While that sounds slavishly gimmicky, the single element that set The Upper Crust well apart from similarly high-concept novelty bands like Dread Zeppelin or Clowns for Progress was the undeniable fact that they wrote great, hilarious, hook-laden songs and they actually fucking rocked. Resplendently bedecked in their signature powdered wigs, pancake makeup, ruffled shirts and platform shoes, The Upper Crust looked endearingly ridiculous, but completely delivered in the rock --- or roque department.

Don’t believe me? Enjoy….

I was undeservingly privileged to see the band perform a number of times, but it always remained to be seen if they were ever going to take off beyond the confines of the then-still-burgeoning punky East Coast rock circuit. I would routinely insert tracks of theirs on mixtapes (remember when we all still made those?) for friends, extolling the band’s myriad merits. In time, however, our little show-going gang started to splinter off and get married (myself included), and then the venues started to close and Manhattan itself started to seem less and less like a place that the Upper Crust and similarly inclined bands would ever find a place to play. Jesse Malin's been doing his damnedest to stem that tide, via endeavors like Bowery Electric and Coney Island Baby, but Manhattan just isn't the same place it used to be ... which fucking sucks. 

As such, I was sad to learn that the band was finally hanging it up. I walked by the old shop in SoHo that lead singer/guitarist Nate Freedberg (stage name: Lord Bendover) was running, but it no longer looked to be a going concern. Then I learned of the documentary. Already fourteen year old by this point, the film tells a decidedly less cheery tale. While amusing that one of the original members went onto become a speech-writer for President Clinton, the stories of intra-band acrimony and conflicting aspirations seem all too familiar. To my mind, the Upper Crust SHOULD have been a bigger deal. The added oddity that drummer Jim Janota (stage name: Jackie Kickassis) is an avowed gun-nut only makes the story stranger.

As I understand it, the band members are all pursuing other musical ventures these days (check out Nat's doings here), but one hopes they might yet again reconvene. I would go see them again in a heartbeat.

Herewith “Let Them East Rock”….

Goodbye to Stormy 2018

Technically, there are still a few days left of 2018, but for all intents and purposes, it’s over. As such, time to dust off this old thing. Let’s have at it.

What did you do in 2018 that you'd never done before?
Travel to the Middle East. Partake of Black Pudding. Submit a stool sample. Not all on one day, mind you.

Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
My plans for the inevitable “Dry January” were stymied by the arrival of the bomb cyclone. We’ll see what happens this year.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
Friends of mine had children. No one in the immediate family.

Did anyone close to you die?
In the beginning of the year, my childhood friend Danny passed away. I wrote a few posts about it. Still hard to believe.

What countries did you visit?
I went to Lebanon in August (with a stopover in Paris) and England in November.

What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018?
A responsible adult in the White House.

What date from 2018 will remain etched upon your memory?
I’m going to say September 12, which was significant for me in that it was both my organization’s company-wide Town Hall meeting (for which I orchestrated video coverage and content) in Nashville, Tennessee and the date of Killing Joke’s New York stop on their 40th Anniversary tour. I’d taken pains to arrange it so I could actually do both, but those plans collapsed, as discussed in histrionic detail here.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I’m proud of my continuing ascent at my place of work. The work I do is recognized and appreciated. That’s a nice feeling. Here's hoping I can sustain in 2019.

What was your biggest failure?
My little family has sorely outgrown our living space, but we have yet to find a working solution.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Well, at one point, I had a scare with a tick. Then I developed a wicked case of Montezuma’s Revenge (read: traveler’s diarrhea) following the trip to Beirut. Then there was a sort of mystery condition that prompted a few invasive and uncomfortable tests (see stool sample answer above), that revealed nothing and went away as mysteriously as it had arrived. I’m sure you’re sorry you asked, now.

What was the best thing you bought?
Airline tickets for London to see the close of Killing Joke’s 40th Anniversary tour.

Whose behavior merited celebration?
Christine Blasey Ford

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Donald Trump, Mitch McConnell, Paul Ryan, Brett Kavanaugh, Matthew Whitaker, Susan Collins, Chuck Grassley, John Cornyn, Mike Pence, Lyndsey Graham.

What did you get really, really excited about?
Traveling to Beirut. Traveling to London to see Killing Joke.

Where did most of your money go?
Tuition for my kids’ schools.

What song will always remind you of 2018?
“Never Fight a Man with a Perm” by IDLES

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
I’d say I’m about the same. I’m worried about a few things, but overall am content with how things are going on a personal level. On a grander scale, 2018 was a year of constant incredulousness, shock, disgust and shame over the Trump Administration.

Thinner or fatter?
Certainly fatter.

Richer or poorer?
Feeling the latter in the wake of the holiday season. We’ll see when those Amex bills arrive.

What do you wish you'd done more of?
Relaxing with my wife and kids.

What do you wish you'd done less of?
Wasting time on social media. Arguing about politics with certain folks.

How did you spend Christmas?
Spread over Quogue, Manhattan, Brooklyn and West Chester, PA.

Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?
No earthly idea.

Did you fall in love in 2018?
Was already in love.

How many one night stands in this last year?
Zero. Happily hitched.

What was your favorite TV program?
I quite liked “The Bodyguard.”

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I continue to hate Trump and his cronies and his supporters. 

What was the best book you read?
Without question, the “Beastie Boys Book.”

What was your greatest musical discovery?
From eons passed, I discovered that great collaboration of Robert Fripp and David Sylvian, and a band I’d entirely slept on called The Oblivians, who are amazing. I also became somewhat enthralled by two newer bands, specifically IDLES and Daughters, as I mentioned here.

What did you want and get?
I was finally able to see Killing Joke on their 40th Anniversary tour –- TWICE, no less (Oxford and London)

What did you want and not get?
Regime change.

What were your favorite films of this year?
I quite liked “Can You Ever Forgive Me?”, which was a refreshingly smart, very New Yorky film. I suppose I liked “Avengers: Infinity Wars,” but all those Marvel movies are starting to blur together for me.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned an unseemly 51, and had a small celebration with my family.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Trump’s impeachment, indictment and incarceration.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018?
Embarrassing Dad With a Band T-shirt Problem

What kept you sane?
My lovely wife and children.

What celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I normally don’t have an answer for this, but I’m going to say Hayley Atwell. She’s close to perfect.

What political issue stirred you the most?
Fuckin’ take your pick.

Who did you miss?
Pete Shelley, Stan Lee, Mark E. Smith

Who was the best new person you met?
Three of my wife’s cousins in Beirut, who are all totally excellent.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018
Never lose your sense of humor, regardless of how bleak and dire things get.

Song lyric that sums up 2018
Not a current song, but from World Party’s “Ship of Fools,” this feels kinda accurate…

We're setting sail to the place on the map
from which no one has ever returned
Drawn by the promise of the joker and the fool
by the light of the crosses that burned.

Christmas Eve 2018

Here's to a festive Christmas Eve to you and yours....

Snubbed

As has been documented here of Flaming Pablum over the years, I have never been a supporter of the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame.

Beyond that fact that the whole concept seems inherently antithetical -- a staid, respectable establishment for artists who ostensibly want to upend staid, respectable establishments –- the Hall of Fame seems to have always been about the concerns of a narrow cabal of biased individuals whose interests are more focussed on the industry aspect of the endeavor than the artistic. But hey, what do I know?

In any event, while I continue to think the whole thing is a big fucking joke, I was again struck this year by the selections for induction. Several notable names were nominated, but only 7 get inducted. I’m not going to go through the whole list as –- again -– none of it really matters. That all said, the MC5 had been nominated. Certain other favorite bands of mine were nominated, too, notably Devo and Kraftwerk. That neither of those bands are getting inducted this year isn’t entirely surprising to me, as many folks continue to misunderstand them. Most people are too stupid to appreciate their respective genius, as far as I'm concerned.

But The MC5 -– one of the most straightforward rock’n’roll bands to ever grace a stage -- aren’t getting inducted either.

I am hard pressed to name a band that more purely embodies everything rock’n’roll is supposed to be about than the MC5. They practically define it. But they’re not getting in. Janet Jackson is, but the MC5?

No.

Chew on that.

By the way, this is not a dig at Janet Jackson. She’s obviously great at what she does -– but is what she does more rock’n’roll than the MC5?

Is ANYTHING more rock’n’roll than the MC5?

Here’s a quick refresher course.

Beasties in TriBeCa

For no massive reason other than it's entirely excellent and hilarious. Go get the book, it's great.

Wow do I miss these guys.

'Falling Out'

Photo by Sierra Urich.

Just a brief break in the political agita.

Next week, you can either celebrate the long-awaited cresting of the Blue Wave, or, conversely, suffocate your sorrows over the unyielding red-capped MAGA yoke of the GOP (in the wake of election 2016, we should take NOTHING for granted) by availing yourselves to “Falling Out,” the latest ambitious endeavor by my friends at The Phantom Limb Company.

As part of the 2018 Next Wave Festival, this production --  spawned by the creative partnership of Jessica Grindstaff and Erik Sanko (discussed most recently here) -- explores and expounds on the relationship between recent traumatic events and the parables of mythology. As the Phantom Limb team itself describes it…

[“Falling Out”] is a rippling meditation on water, heartbreak, and healing in response to the 2011 tsunami and Fukushima nuclear disaster. In collaboration with Dai Matsuoka of dance troupe Sankai Juku, the work weaves flex dance, butoh, and Phantom Limb’s unique puppet theater into a visually arresting tapestry of collective experience and artistic alchemy.

So, yeah … it's not exactly “Yo Gabba Gabba!”

In all seriousness, the multi-media/multi-disciplined work of the Phantom Limb Company always makes for a striking visual experience that will inform, emotionally resonate and haunt you long after you’ve witnessed it.

It is well worth your time. Find out more by clicking right here. Performances only run from November 7th through November 10th, so act with stealth.

As an example of some of their earlier work, check out this teaser from their production, “"69º S"

'The Boho's Lament'