Flaming Pablum

Fermenting New Firewater: Tod [A] Looks Ahead

With the possible exception of Killing Joke, I don’t think there’s a band I’ve scribbled more about here than Cop Shoot Cop, the former NYC-based, clangy noise-rock ensemble of one Tod [A], who bowed out of said band, in the mid-`90s, during the recording of what would have been their fifth studio LP. Upon leaving C$C under arguably not the most amicable of circumstances, Tod turned his attention to forming Firewater, a loose collective of musicians who’d go onto to explore, over seven diverse albums, a far broader vista of musical styles than Tod’s previous band was ever likely to dare. Largely jettisoning Cop Shoot Cop’s full-frontal industrial assault in favor of a sinuous amalgam of influences from klezmer to ska to Middle-Eastern folk music to Romani to bhangra to sea shanties to Russian drinking songs to straight-ahead punk fucking rock and virtually all points and ports of global call in between, Tod’s inherent sense of wanderlust became deeply imbued into the music he was making. Putting his money where his mouth was, by the band’s sixth album, 2008’s The Golden Hour, Tod pulled up stakes and set out on a formidable trek across the imposing terrain between New Delhi, India and Istanbul, Turkey, recording with local musicians along the way. This experience not only fueled that album -– arguably Firewater’s finest -– but also served as fertile fodder for his first novel, “Banging the Monkey,” which surfaced in 2019.

I’ve been friends with Tod since the very early `90s, when I was tasked with writing up a cover story for a local freebie news weekly about “a hot new band that typifies the New York sound and sensibility.” Without skipping a beat, I chose Cop Shoot Cop, having become enamored of their wilfully chaotic live performances, their boldly unconventional approach (two basses, no guitars), their dark sense of humor (lost on large swathes of their audience), their unwieldy aesthetic and their cryptic poster campaign. Over the course of Cop Shoot Cop’s tumultuous rise and fall and then into the Firewater years, Tod and I have spilled many gallons of beer and ink about our respective trajectories. Now ensconced full-time in Istanbul, Tod only gets to New York City every so often, and he and I only get to convene in person every couple of years or so, usually around the holidays. The last time he was in town back in December, we caught up for a drink at an old favorite, the Ear Inn on the westerly end of Spring Street, and it dawned on me that I’d never subjected the poor guy to the Flaming Pablum Interview. So now, joining the estimable ranks of Big Paul Ferguson of Killing Joke, Chris Egan of Missing Foundation, RB Korbet of Even Worse, Erik Sanko of Skeleton Key, Fran Powers of Modern Clix, J Yuenger of White Zombie, Brooke Smith of Sunday Matinee, Don Rauf of Life in a Blender, and Andi Harriman of Some Wear Leather, Some Wear Lace, here with the Flaming Pablum Interview with Tod [A]…

FP: You’ve now been living in Turkey for almost 12 years. How’s that going? Of all the places you’ve lived, how does Istanbul compare?

I've lived in NYC, Denpasar, Phnom Penh, Calcutta, Surat Thani and now Istanbul. Though I didn't expect to be here quite so long, I can't complain about the city. Istanbul is the NYC of Turkey: it's a port city, which means it's quite multi-cultural. The cost of living is far less than NYC, and the town has public transport that doesn't reek of urine. It has a lot more cats and a lot less rats (do the math). I guess I feel as at home here as I have felt anywhere else, though the current Turkish government leaves much to be desired. Hopefully the people of Turkey will get rid of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in the upcoming 2023 general election.

It’s been eleven years since you released International Orange, but now, I gather, have new music demoed and ready to be recorded — can you give us an update?

Having decided to procreate, I took some time off from recording and touring to concentrate on raising my daughter. I didn't want to be the father who was never there. In the meantime, I wrote fifty songs. I am now a free agent and I think I'm almost ready to get back to recording and touring. We shall see who winds up releasing these records.

Firewater has counted many illustrious names in its ranks, over the years — are you in touch with all those players? Might we hear from them again on the next LP?

Yes, we are mostly all still buddies. It's quite possible there will be some appearances from old friends once it's time to go into the studio and begin touring again.

If you had to characterize the direction and sound of the new material, how would you do so?

My itinerant lifestyle has certainly colored the new batch of songs, melodically, sonically, and rhythmically. There is a Turkish flavor to many of them. But somehow I can't seem to scrape all the American mud off my boots. I feel like my time abroad has given me perspective to write about the country of my birth.

Your first novel, “Banging the Monkey” was published in 2019. Are there more books in you waiting to come out?

Yes. I am working on a few new books at the moment: a novel (for adults), and some others for children. But I take my time. They will be done when they are done.

You were recently back in the States and in New York City for the first time in a while. How does your former home turf feel to you in the wake of all that’s happened?

I still love NYC. But as I told you when I saw you last, I feel safer raising my daughter in a quasi-dictatorship like Turkey where almost nobody has a gun, than in America where everyone seems to own multiple firearms.

In 2016, you joined some of your former Cop Shoot Cop bandmates for the commentary track of the live DVD New York Post Punk / Noise Series 1. Are you still back in contact with those guys today?

Yes, I am in touch with Jim Coleman and Phil Puleo and we are on good terms. During the lockdowns, we made some sporadic attempts to collaborate from afar, but nothing seemed to catch fire. Jim and Phil seem to be doing quite well with Human Impact, so more power to them.

Is there any Firewater (or, for that matter, Cop Shoot Cop) material left “in the vault,” so to speak? Stuff that was never released? If so, will it ever see the light of day?

Yes, there is quite a bit. But tracks get left in the vault for a reason, usually because they weren't quite ready.

What’s your take on the music of today? Are there any new artists you’re particularly enthused about? What have you been listening to?

When I was a young punk I thought the way to move forward was to obliterate the past. Now I'm much more interested in the historical continuity of music. I'm trying to catch up on the homework I should have done when I was 21, learning the musical secrets of all the songs I love. I'm delving back into the past: jazz, the birth of rock 'n' roll. I listen to a lot of early blues, jazz, folk and psychedelia. Mainly I'm focused on developing as a songwriter and composer. I've been studying soundtracks (Morricone, Elfman, Zimmer), and I try to learn from the lyricists I admire (Dylan, Waits, Bowie).

Of all the spots you lived around New York City, which was your favorite, and why?

It was definitely fun living in Williamsburgh in the late 80's – early 90's. The rents were incredibly cheap, and there was much fun to be had exploring the empty buildings. I remember setting fire to an abandoned car in a vacant lot and watching it burn. Neither police nor the fire department ever came. That's how much of a no man's land it was at that time.

…which was your least favorite, and why?

By the time I moved to Bushwick, I had already pretty much had it with NYC. The locals weren't too enthused about the bohemian gringos encroaching on their turf, so there was quite a bit of aggro. Also, I was arrested for drinking a beer on the street outside my building, about 20 feet away from the corner where a bunch of jackasses had been selling smack and crack for years. So once I got out of jail, I was off to Thailand.

Where in the world is the food the best?

Italy, of course. I have worked there a lot, and the Italians really know what they are doing. But I also love Thai street food. Such an amazingly subtle combination of flavors. And usually $1 a plate. Indian and Mexican. Turkish food is also amazing.

What’s your favorite Firewater album?

The Golden Hour certainly was the most fun to make. The adventure of recording it, in India, Pakistan, and Indonesia, combined with working with my buddies in Tel Aviv to complete it. Everything seemed to come together on that record.

What’s your least favorite? Why?

International Orange was a nightmare to make. My record company didn't support the concept, so I had to cut a lot of financial corners. As a result, even though the songs were as good as those on The Golden Hour, the sound quality on International Orange suffered because of budget problems. I would love to re-record those songs someday. My ugly experience making International Orange also made me want to wait until I could afford to record in the right way.

What’s your favorite Cop Shoot Cop album?

Release. At that time CSC was firing on all pistons, and we had producer David Sardy at the controls. After that record, everything went rapidly south for the band.

What’s your least favorite? Why?

White Noise. It just hasn't aged well.

The irony here is the White Noise continues to be my favorite album by the band. It’s aged just fine, to my ears.

Why do the vinyl re-releases of Get Off the Cross... and Golden Hour have different cover art?

When Scott Schaefer approached me about doing vinyl releases of the Firewater catalog, I saw it as an opportunity to make something special. So I decided to re-make all the covers by hand. It's been really fun to re-imagine the art. The vinyl series will be continued in the near future.

Beyond from family and friends, what do you miss most about the United States?

A genuine NYC slice, and a real bagel. And not much else.

What sort of music is your daughter listening to?

I knew going into this parenting thing that I had a window of maybe four or five years in which I could vet the music my daughter would hear. Being a control freak, I took full advantage of those years. I wanted her developing brain to get a solid grounding in classic melody and song structure before she was exposed to bullshit musical 'content' from off the internet. So I made her tons of mix tapes: nursery rhymes; classical stuff like Carl Orff, Peter and the Wolf, and the Nutcracker; plus kid-friendly songs from folks like Raffi, the Beatles, Donovan, Ivor Cutler, Monty Python, Spike Jones, Woody Guthrie and the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band.

Yeah, well, to answer your question, the window has closed. You don't want to know what sort of music torture I am subjected to now. I can't wait till she's a teenager, and will start hitting me with some cool sounds.

What was the best concert you ever attended?

I can't name just one: Black Flag at some bowling alley in New Jersey circa 1984, Nirvana at the Reading Festival circa 1992, Tom Waits at the Beacon Theater 1999, Bone Machine tour, Motorhead in Istanbul, 2011. Plus any Jesus Lizard show. 

What five albums can you not live without?

Ramones - Ramones
Tom Waits - Rain Dogs
The Doors - The Doors
David Bowie - Diamond Dogs
Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited

The best songwriter is….

There are seven: Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, David Bowie, Robyn Hitchcock, Leonard Cohen, and Ivor Cutler. (and me.)

Bad Brains Mural Sullied by Awful ‘Screamo’ Band

It’s been less than a month since Shepard Fairey completed his Bad Brains mural over on Bleecker & Bowery, and it’s already been (slightly) defaced. I guess it was inevitable (Debbie Harry’s portrait suffered similar indignities), but really… so soon?

I noticed it this afternoon while out for a brisk walk in the January chill. Pasted just above H.R.’s fist was a flyer which has since been diligently removed, but the blemish on the paint remains.

As it turns out, the befouling flyer is the work of a so-called “screamo” band called … inexplicably … Olth. How do I know this? Well, they put an identical flyer up just a block or two up the Bowery. You can see that below.

Notice how bits of the yellow U and O in the “FUCK YOU” at the bottom remain? It’s the same flyer.

In any case, a bit of Googling reveals that Olth is indeed a band, albeit not an especially good one. But, again, as a fiercely opinionated 55-year-old curmudgeon, I’m the last person who should be opining about the merits of “screamo.” Maybe they’re the bee’s knees? Who knows ? If you're curious, you can see some footage of Olth performing live at Otto's Shrunken Head from back this past November. Also, their guitarist's Instagram page can be found here. 

Regardless of their strenuously arguable prowess as a band -- screamo or otherwise -- and irrespective of their feelings for Shepard Fairey, FUCK YE NOT WITH BAD BRAINS!

The Dueling Delis

During what I think I can still safely call an era of uncertainty, here in New York City, if not the world, it is not at all uncommon – Hell, it’s actually frequent -- to notice any number of age-old, revered businesses that have been operating for decades suddenly vacated, gutted and boarded-up. Whether because of spiraling rents, the rigors of the pandemic, the faltering economy or the changing sensibilities of a neighborhood, certain shops, restaurants, bars, bistros, outlets and/or local services that you’d pretty much expected to always be there will suddenly vanish. No business is safe. Nothing is sacred.

I can’t count the number of times during the last two or three years (to say nothing of the seventeen plus years I’ve been keeping this silly blog) that I’ve been blithely walking down the street, only to suddenly see a beloved neighborhood spot I’ve cherished for ages suddenly and without any warning …. not there. Sometimes it happens like a thief in the night, leaving no trace or explanation. Other times, there’s a weepy note.

This morning, I decided to take a more westerly approach to my office in TriBeCa, veeering off the main artery of West Broadway in favor of the side streets of the Village and SoHo. With my ears filled by the latest episode of Marc Maron’s WTF podcast, and my mind otherwise engaged by the impending duties of the day, I didn’t notice the change right away, but right as I was crossing the intersection of Thompson and Prince Streets in the heart of SoHo, I was stopped dead in my tracks by something.

This intersection has always been a favorite of mine. Up the street to the east just a few steps used to be Rocks in Your Head, a hugely important independent record shop for me which factored greatly in my development as a truly insufferable music snob. It’s long gone now, of course, replaced for a few years by a glum real estate agency and now a bakery that exclusively sells pastry shaped like genitalia. I’m not making that up. On the southeasterly corner of the intersection, meanwhile, was Milady’s – initially an unpretentious neighborhood bar with a pool table wherein I spent many a beery evening thoughout the late `80s and `90s. It vanished in 2014 and the space became a short succession of aspirationally upscale restaurants. More recently, however, it’s reverted back to Milady’s, but with a bit of a bespoke reboot. The jury’s still out on that, for me.

Sure, those spots are significant for me, but the thing that always struck me about the crossing of Thompson and Prince were the dueling delicatessens. With one perched on the southwest-facing corner mirrored by another anchored on the northeast-facing corner, I always marveled at how these two comparable ventures managed to peacefully co-exist in a perpetual state of neighborly détente, like two obstinate nations refusing to recognize the legitimacy of the other or like The Zax is Dr. Seuss’ “The Sneetches and Other Stories’ (look it up). I have vivid memories of myself and two friends stumbling out of Milady’s, one snowy night in the late `90’s, and one pal going to the south deli to buy smokes while the other went to the north deli to buy a sandwich. It was entirely nonsensical, but I loved that about it. It was SoHo … it was unconventional, like that.

But this morning … something was different.

Instead of the southwest corner deli --officially named H&H Kim -- bustling with its usual deliveries of flowers, crates of fresh fruit and cartons of dairy products or patrons popping in and out for cups of coffee and a newspaper, the door was shut and the windows were all papered up. My heart sank.

In the center of the door was taped the inevitable note.

The major difference with this story is that practically for the first time in my recollection, the parting missive is not one tinged with tragedy or regret. While I am saddened by the departure of this longtime business, at the very least, the tale has a happy ending.

Regardless, support your local businesses.

Broadway Boys

I hate to keep mining the Facebook group Manhattan Before 1990, but there’s so much gold to be found there. In any case, this morning a participant named Ino Yoon posted the photograph below by O Yoon (a parent, maybe?) from 1982, and it instantly rang a bell.

This immediately recalled a photo search I’d done back in 2011, looking for the location of a photo of the Beastie Boys that first appeared in SPIN, snapped by Josh Cheuse. Here’s that photo now.

The band later used a shot from that same session as the cover of this hits compilation...

In any case, this is the southwest corner of West 26th and Broadway, which is right around the corner from the St. James Building, wherein the Beasties had one sort of business arrangement or another.

Here's my then-still-very-little Oliver in that same spot in 2011. Today, this corner is occupied by a restaurant called La Picora Bianca Nomad.

Back ... Again... to Charly's Corner at Cortlandt & Walker

For those of you valiantly trying to follow the tangled thread that is the saga of the origins of the Clics Modernos wall on the corner of Walker Street and Cortlandt Alley (just to the right of where my little son Oliver was pictured heading towards in the above photo from 2014), I am happy to report that friend-o’-the-blog Iñaki Rojas has just released the fourth installment of his video series on the subject.

Let’s see if I can quickly condense, for those not interested in reading the last update: Preeminent Argentine rock star Charly Garcia, around 1982, was in New York City, renting a loft on Waverly Place and recording at nearby Electric Lady Studios of West 8th Street, when he went out for a walk with a photographer. While he’d already had an idea for the title and cover image of the album he was working on, when he spied some compelling street art in TriBeCa on the aforementioned corner of Walker and Cortlandt Alley (just down the way from the Mudd Club), he posed for a shot with it — and then decided to use that shot for the album cover, taking the title, meanwhile, from a tag scrawled on the wall — Modern Clix (translated into Spanish as Clics Modernos).

Unbeknownst to Garcia, the art in question was the handiwork of two individuals — street artist Richard Hambleton (renowned for his “shadow men” all around downtown Manhattan — ghostly black silhouettes) and local punk rocker Fran Powers, the then-lead singer of the band, Modern Clix.

Released in 1983, the resultant album went onto become a huge milestone for both Garcia and Argentine rock in general. From Wikipedia: "It was a decisive work to consolidate the modern trends that would mark the profile of Argentine rock during the 1980s,” and to this day is widely revered.

Back here in New York City, meanwhile — Richard Hambleton passed away in 2017 purportedly without ever knowing his work graced the sleeve of such a sacrosanct piece of music history.

Fran Powers, meanwhile, another comrade of the blog’s (after befriending him at party in for Yukie Ohta’s SoHo Memory Project some years ago, I interviewed Fran about his involvement in the local hardcore scene as documented by Brooke Smith, his music and his fleeting cameos in movies like “Hannah & Her Sisters” and my all-time favorite film, Martin Scorsese’s “After Hours” — you can read that here) — had been aware of his graffiti being lifted for Garcia’s landmark album, but didn’t really know much about it. Sadly, Fran passed away in 2021.

Here’s where it gets (even more) complicated.

I honestly cannot say if I was the first person to unwittingly figure this out, but after spotting some photographs on a Facebook group taken by a tourist named Bo G. Eriksson in 1984 of my beloved Cortlandt Alley, I typed up a post, in 2021, about it (somewhat brazenly lifting Eriksson’s photos without his express consent — sorry about that, Mr. E) and asserted that the location of Charly Garcia’s album cover — which, at the time, I had no idea was such a big deal — is the corner of Walker and Cortlandt in TriBeCa.

I probably didn’t give the matter another thought, but word somehow quickly spread. in short order, I was fielding missives from an Argentine writer named Iñaki Rojas alerting me of the significance of all this.

As I now understand this, this tiny little patch of downtown real estate had been a hotly speculated location. Now that the secret was out, there were people making actual goddamn pilgrimages to it. More about that in a second.

This whole saga is not at all unlike my series of posts wherein I tried — with the help of my Irish pal Dub — to pinpoint the exact location of the wall featured on the cover of Killing Joke’s first iconic record, or when I tried to divine the location of that one photo of the Lunachicks, or when I tried to determine the address of Plasmatics World Headquarters. Equally obsessed with this quest, Iñaki Rojas was clearly my brother, and started writing both a novel about it all, and a compelling video series.

The fourth installment of that series is now up, and I am sort of hilariously all over it. See that here….

I viewed this latest episode on the train back from Pennsylvania with my family, earlier this week, and immediately felt I needed to stroll back down to that fateful corner to get Iñaki some updated pics. I ran into my neighbor and fellow music freak Mac and after a quick stop at the Bad Brains mural on Bleecker, I started unspooling the whole Clics Modernos tale (which is exceptionally difficult to encapsulate). From what he understood of what I was babbling about, he was intrigued, so down we both bounded to Cortlandt Alley, once again.

Right as we were approaching the corner in question, I spotted a cryptic little scrawl on the wall. Sure enough, it was related.

It reads, I believe, ...Clics Modernos Started Here...

As relayed in the fourth episode of Iñaki’s series, people now come to this spot as if it was the Argentine equivalent of Abbey Road or, to use my analogy, the Killing Joke wall in Derry, Northern Ireland.

I had Mac try to replicate Charly’s sleeve with me. I apologize profusely for being a fat bastard. Time for those New Year’s resolutions to be fiercely observed, eh?

Iñaki promises a final installment of the series soon. Watch this space. 

Merry Christmas from Flaming Pablum

We at Chez Pablum didn't manage to get our pesky Christmas ducks in order, this year, in time for a proper card. Adding festive insult to yuletide injury, when it came to which approach we were gong to go with, the wife didn't like the fact that we weren't all together in my design, whereas I thought the picture she selected of the kids looked more like placation than sincerity. We did not overcome our creative Christmas impasse in time, so here are both options. Voting closes at midnight on Christmas Eve.

Happy happy to one and all. Stay warm. Be good to each other.

Goodbye, 2022!

Yes, well, I suppose it's time to dust off this inane survey, once again, and take a look back at 2022. Seat-belts on, kids! 

What did you do in 2022 that you'd never done before?

Got myself a “global entry” card.

Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don’t think I made any, thus I did not keep any. At this stage of the proceedings, if I make any bold declarations about swearing off anything, I’m pretty much dooming myself to fail. That all said, I could certainly stand to drink less beer, stay on top of my finances and keep my medical appointments. 

Did anyone close to you give birth?

No one in my immediate circle, no.

Did anyone close to you die?

Again, no one in my immediate circle, mercifully.

What countries did you visit?

We went to Greece and Scotland, and I highly recommend both. 

What would you like to have in 2023 that you lacked in 2022?

Oh, I’m not sure. I not inclined to spend time dwelling on the things I don’t have.

What date from 2022 will remain etched upon your memory?

August 20th, the day we left our Charlotte at college in Scotland and flew home to NYC without her.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Staying marginally healthy and gainfully employed.

What was your biggest failure?

My inability to impose some semblance of restraint and willpower.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

I have a continuing grievance with my left foot that I still need to see a podiatrist about. And, yes, I, too, eventually got COVID. 

What was the best thing you bought?

I honestly can’t remember. Well, I bought some concert tickets for my son that made him very happy. That’s always good.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

My kids. They have their moments like everyone else, but for the most part, they are kind, bright, do well in school and are genuinely lovely human beings.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Trump, Kanye West, Elon Music, various members of the Supreme Court and Republicans in general.

What did you get really, really excited about?

My daughter getting into college.

Where did most of your money go?

My building’s being assessed, at the moment, and our monthly fees have gone up significantly … and will stay that way until fuckin’ February 2024, hence the comment above about needing to impose restraint and willpower when it comes to all things financial.  

What song will always remind you of 2022?

I don’t know if it’ll always remind of 2022, but perhaps “The Man I’ll Never Find” by Lucius.

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?

I’d say about the same. I have concerns like everyone else, but overall, I have no right to complain about one damn thing.

Thinner or fatter?

Oh, invariably fatter.

Richer or poorer?

As mentioned above, we’re currently slightly financially compromised, so technically “poorer.”

What do you wish you'd done more of?

Taking care of things in real time as opposed to continually putting them off.

What do you wish you'd done less of?

Spending irresponsibly. I mean, I didn’t splurge, or anything, but in light of our current situation, some self-imposed austerity would’ve been a benefit.

How did you spend Christmas?

Well, it hasn’t happened yet, but we’re planning on spending it out at my mom’s place in Quogue.

Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?

No idea.

Did you fall in love in 2022?

I’ve been in love with -- and married to -- her for over 21 years.

How many one-night stands in this last year?

Zero.

What was your favorite TV program?

I quite liked “White Lotus 2,” “Slow Horses” and crime drama on Britbox called “Sherwood.”

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I still hate most of the same folks – Trump, Trump supporters, key Republicans and various members of the Supreme Court.

What was the best book you read?

“Feral City” by Jeremiah Moss.

What was your greatest musical discovery?

Already discussed on this post.

What did you want and get?

Depeche Mode tickets for myself and my son, but oof were they ever expensive.

What did you want and not get?

Trump rotting in prison for the rest of this miserable fucking life.

What were your favorite films of this year?

Honestly cannot remember. Don’t bode well, does it.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 55, which is not a number I’m okay with.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Trump’s conviction and permanent incarceration.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2022?

I own way, way too many dumb rock t-shirts for a 55-year-old.

What kept you sane?

Once again, who said anything about being sane?

What celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I never know what to do with this question, as every answer is going to sound creepy and inappropriate.

What political issue stirred you the most?

January 6 Committee

Who did you miss?

There was already a long list (as mentioned in this post), but Wilko Johnson, Jet Black and this week’s loss of Terry Hall of the Specials really hit me hard.

Who was the best new person you met?

The lovely ladies of Desperately Seeking the 80's, of course. 

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2022

Not everything is worth an argument. Pick your battles.

Song lyric that sums up 2022

I've come here to make a ceramic shoe
And I've come to smash what you made
- Dry Cleaning

Twenty Years Gone

Rest in peace, Uncle Joe....

The Gausten List: All the Musicians I've Interviewed

I’ve never met Joel Gausten “in the flesh,” but we tred in very comparable circles. A kindred spirit in both taste and sensibility, Joel is a fellow rabid music nerd and avid writer who already has a few books to his name, by this point, as well as one salaciously nocturnal memoir. I think I first encountered him, several years back, as I’d picked up a book he’d self-published about one of my favorite bands, Prong, and we’ve been in touch -– largely via social media -– pretty much ever since. Beyond his literary pursuits, Joel is also a musician, having drummed with bands like The Undead, Electric Frankenstein and Pigface. He’s a busy man, our Joel.

I think the thing that strikes me most about Joel is his drive. On the best of days, music journalism is a truly punishing vocation that doesn’t accrue much respect, let alone revenue, from the rest of the world, but Joel is undaunted and ever-busy. Joel splits his time between these passions and, if I’m not mistaken, doing some meaningful, hands-on social work, `cos ya can’t be Johnny Punk-Rock all the time, I guess.

In any case, in revamping his bio, Joel recently posted a list of everyone, off the top of his head, that he’s ever interviewed, and it’s a formidable array of diverse musicians ranging from Gene Simmons of KISS through Dot Wiggin of The Shaggs, and pretty much everyone in between (you might be able to see the first iteration of that list here). The sheer breadth of Joel’s list speaks to his voracious enthusiasm for music and his wide, catholic tastes.

I’d started off on a comparable path as Joel’s, channeling my life-long love of music into something of a career when, upon graduating college, I landed an internship at SPIN (which I’ve mentioned a few times before, most recently here). My time at SPIN led me further to an involvement with a plucky, independent start-up called The New York Review of Records (which I’ve also mentioned a few times here, most notably here). From there, I went onto write and contribute to a host of different periodicals, for a while, including magazines like Creem, the confusingly named Huh! (an offshoot of Raygun) a short-lived project called Exit!. After a while, I succumbed to the allure of a more lucrative aspect of journalism and took a low-level gig at LIFE Magazine which, in turn, led me to a 12-year stint at TIME magazine. After TIME, as some of you might remember, I hopscotched between gigs at The New Yorker (I wrote blurbs for their Goings On About Town section for ten years), MTV News Online, MSN and then TODAY.com. After being aggressively let go from the latter, I waffled in obscurity for a hot second before ditching journalism in favor of corporate communications, where I am now. I’m now a director of content, video and editorial services for the corporate communications and marketing department of a performance rights organization. So, I’m still writing about music, but just not in the capacity of a critic or journalist.

In any case, in looking at Joel’s tremendous list, I started thinking of all the folks I’d interviewed in those early days. And while nowhere near as comprehensive as Joel’s, it was a fun tally to compose. From what I can recall off the top of my head, here’s who I’ve interviewed….

I spoke with Wayne Hussey of The Mission on a brilliantly sunny day on Liberty Island in the shadow of the statue (I believe the idea was that Wayne wanted to replicate a certain famous picture of John Lennon). I chatted with a young Trent Reznor in a cramped backstage room at the New Ritz on West 54th Street, wherein he spent the entirety of our discussion fiddling with his then-newly pierced septum (which he evidently tired quickly of, as he hasn’t sported a ring there since). I spoke with a very amped-up Robert Vincent of short-lived British indie next-big-thing ensemble Birdland in the lobby of a long-vanished venue on West 21st Street called The Marquee. I dined and debated with the full membership of Pop Will Eat Itself at long-vanished Asian drag bar Lucky Cheng’s on First Avenue. I had a spirted conversation with Jeff and Steve McDonald of Redd Kross in a coffee shop just off Times Square. I have protracted exchange in clipped English with Treponem Pal vocalist Marco Neves at another coffee shop on Grand Street on the Lower East Side. I was treated to the full membership of Killing Joke at the Notell Motel, then on Avenue A. I traded war stories with Tod [A] and Cripple Jim Coleman of Cop Shoot Cop at the late, lamented CB’s Pizza & Record Canteen on the Bowery. I listened to John S. Hall of King Missile moan about his record company at Sin-E on St Marks Place. I had a lovely chat with Tim Booth of James in a trailer behind the main stage at a festival in Finsbury Park in London. I had a meandering conversation with Gavin Friday in the charming TriBeCa apartment of his publicist on White Street. I took sweaty dictation in a Harlem brownstone from the translator for Senegalese singer Yousou N’Dour. I had a brief exchange with Dave Gedge of the Wedding Present at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, conducted a discussion with all three members of Material Issue on the disused second floor of the midtown Hard Rock Café, tried to make sense of the full membership of Blur talking at me at once in the cozy confines of the former Yaffa Café on St. Marks Place, had an intense intel-breakdown with Henry Rollins in a loading dock on West 21st street and had the keyboardist and bass player of EMF abruptly leave an interview early after a certain editor of mine had unwittingly showed them a not-so-positive review of their album that I’d written. Yikes.

In stodgy corporate board rooms, I’ve sat across the table with microphone in hand with Mike Berenyi and Chris Acland of Lush, the full membership of Ash, Jonn Penny of Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, Miles Hunt of the Wonder Stuff, Cathal Coughlan of Fatima Mansions, Toni Halliday of Curve, Rob Jones of the Venus Beads, Shaun Ryder of Happy Mondays, both members of A.R. Kane and all four cool-cat wiseacres in Sonic Youth.

I’ve done “phoners” with Bono of U2, Marky Ramone of the Ramones, Kurt Ralske of Ultra Vivid Scene, Shirley Manson of Garbage, Mike D. of the Beastie Boys, action-hero and Hong Kong singing sensation Jackie Chan, Wyclef Jean of the Fugees, Jim Reid of the Jesus & Mary Chain, Andy Prieboy of Wall of Voodoo, Guy Kyser of Thin White Rope, Julianne Regan of All About Eve, Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks, Matt Cameron of Soundgarden, Andrew Eldridge of the Sisters of Mercy, Martin Atkins of PiL/Killing Joke/Ministry, Salli Carson of Bleach and Jon Brookes of The Charlatans.

For this silly blog, I’ve interviewed Chris Egan of Missing Foundation, RB Korbet of Even Worse, Big Paul Ferguson of Killing Joke, Fran Powers of Modern Clix, Erik Sanko of Skeleton Key, J Yuenger of White Zombie, Don Rauf of Life in a Blender and Brooke Smith, actress and NYHC veteran. For my current job, I’ve interviewed the Flatbush Zombies, Jesse Malin, Amy Rigby and Alice Goddamn Cooper.

I was supposed to do a phoner for my current job with Jon Popper of Blues Traveler who I’ve never. He blew me off and never called.

Whatever.

The Evolution of Bleecker & Bowery

For those of you who are invested in such things, you’ve probably already seen that the next iteration of the mural on the southwest corner of Bleecker Street at the Bowery, which I recently invoked here, is complete. That’s it up above and, yes, it’s another Shepard Fairey piece, this one paying tribute to Bad Brains by way of a rendered composite of images from the photography of my former next-door neighbor, Glen E. Friedman. That’s it above.

Now that this work is complete, I thought I’d turn back the clock to look at what this particular patch of real estate borne witness to, over the years….

In 1982, as I recounted here and here, photographer Drew Carolan set up an ersatz, outdoor film studio on this same corner to capture images of the burgeoning NYHC community, which he’d later compile into a handsome coffee table book, “Matinee.” In writing about this project, I had my kids pose in the exact spot Carolan had used. See that below.

In 1983, Jim Jarmusch filmed an iconic scene of Eszter Balint crossing this particular byway as part of the opening montage of his 1984 film, “Stranger Than Paradise,” which I tried to replicate with my kids as some point in 2012.

Skipping way ahead to 2015, a mysterious mural of Joey Ramone sporting a pair of boxing gloves came up. I speculated as to why, but then it occurred to me, as recounted on this post, that it was ultimately a wafer-thin and frankly misleading promotion for the then-just-opened UpperCut boxing gym, which I continue to think was stinky and lame of them. I was glad when it vanished.

Joey was replaced, of course, in 2017 by Shepard Fairey’s tribute to Blondie, which was completely cool. Despite this, it got defaced, a few times, but shitty taggers because people basically suck.

And now, five years later, Debbie Harry has been replaced by Bad Brains. I managed to capture a quick shot of Fairey himself, in the process.