oh, nostalgia.

but hey. there's this. or this.



or best of all:

satellite of love

oh man. the fucking cure. disintegration, pornography, faith, ...

this has been my monday morning so far. my monday morning mixtape, monday morning for *you*... special. drive in saturday, computer love, the passenger. rock and roll suicide. perfect day.

oh, and hey, here's some more kraftwerk for you. the best kraftwerk song, ever. on stylophone.

so, true to form, kel and i did miss out on the aforementioned (posted earlier) corey feldman film festival... but hopefully we'll follow through with this.

kelli, sunday, january 16:

'stop ian curtis suiciding over there!!'



what? no funny?

be like the kettle and sing!

"the yearnings of two hearts create such heavenly pain"

such freudian slips will no longer be tolerated, dear. i'm calling the whole thing off.



someone caught me listening to the smiths on my way in to work this morning. i believe his words were along the lines of, "why on earth would you subject yourself to morrissey that early in the morning?!" and later, "it's like you're setting yourself up for suicide..."

okay that last line was embellished just a bit (replace 'suicide' with 'a bad day'). but i know that's what he was thinking.

and what was i thinking? we need public service announcements for this exact problem - you know it, i blogged it yesterday, rob gordon's initial monologue is a cautionary tale of the same:

music can be hazardous to your health.

like, if you just broke up with a boyfriend, refrain from listening to jeff buckley's grace or the postal service's give up. If you're struggling with work, bills, and adulthood, do NOT under any circumstance listen to "bastards of young" by the replacements. get where i'm going?



anyway... my coworker was right. i really should not have listened to the smiths this morning. my whole day. completely ruined. thanks, steven!

caroline, yes.

33.3 Art Show.

Thirty three and a third artists and designers reinterpret and reimagine existing album covers.

hub-cap-diamond-star-halo

just about another week, and i will no longer be eligible for that silly club.

although, in their terms, i would have had to been famous, or at least somewhat famous, or at the VERY least, contributed SOMETHING to the pop culture landscape. and i hardly think a glorified livejournal counts, sooooooo...

maybe THAT should be my hint, or my proverbial kick-to-the-rear, to get something going. maybe it's just the fear of getting older but i am starting to feel a sort of panic, a tightening in the chest whenever i start to think about how much time has passed and just how LITTLE i've actually done and seen. the clock is ticking, damnit.

'life's going by, but it's just begun...' and look where it got them. not members of the 27 club, but surely they've found a place in the rock and roll mythos. at least, i fucking hope so (although they aren't found here, i stumbled across this in my "research"... really, an amusing read if you have the time. go here for the ha-ha's).


oh! but i digress. i always digress. maybe THAT has been the problem all along.

'what part of an inverse tangent approaching an asymptote don't you understand?'

I was ridiculously happy to hear that industrial outfit VNV Nation was coming to town, only to find out it was another one of their halfhearted DJ sets. Not that their performances are half-assed; infact I'm sure they're quite good. However, i just cannot justify shelling out the big bucks to watch a (relatively) famous person spin records that my local DJ spins week in and week out. I don't know. Maybe they do have an edge on us with their access to otherwise unknown foreign acts, but still, it's nothing I want to spend exorbitant amounts of money for. If I'm going to pay to see Ronan Harris, I expect to see Mark Jackson there as well, along with their synthesizers and wicked backdrops. Hah.

AND while I'm on the subject, why haven't Steve Naghavi and/or And One returned to the United States?

Granted, Mr. Naghavi could take the stage in nothing but a towel and proceed to perform the greatest acoustic hits of ABBA, and I would still be front row. But that's neither here nor there...

It just irks me that these great, underappreciated artists are getting the shaft because apparently, it costs too much to tour the states. Or they get stuck playing venues like VFW Halls and whatnot. In Europe, they can sell out clubs three times over... it;s just frustrating, really.

Then again, it can't be the bands' fault. At least not all the time. Maybe their record labels just don't see the potential of it. Bastards.

Oh but speaking of record labels, Wax Trax! founder Dannie Fleischer recently passed away. So sad. If you read the tributes below this article found in the Chicago Tribune, as well as the posts on their Facebook fan page, it's actually quite touching.


Bonus Astronomy Awesomeness: For the next few weekends at the Cernan Earth and Space Center (part of Triton College) in River Grove, they will be running a planetarium show narrated by our favorite astrophysicist, Phil Plait, aka The Bad Astronomer. Based on his first book, the show will debunk such myths as the "faked" moon landing and explain random scientific inaccuracies... great for the space geek as well as the layperson. Clicky here for more info. Yayyyyyyy

not my bit, but still good.

You want an update?

"Teddy sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell from the roof on East Two-nine
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten
So they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan
Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head
Bobby OD'd on Drano on the night that he was wed
They were two more friends of mine
Two more friends that died

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Mary took a dry dive from a hotel room
Bobby hung himself from a cell in the tombs
Judy jumped in front of a subway train
Eddie got slit in the jugular vein
And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others
And I salute you brother

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Herbie pushed Tony from the Boys' Club roof
Tony thought that his rage was just some goof
But Herbie sure gave Tony some bitchen proof
'Hey,' Herbie said, 'Tony, can you fly?'
But Tony couldn't fly, Tony died

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Brian got busted on a narco rap
He beat the rap by rattin' on some bikers
He said, 'Hey, I know it's dangerous, but it sure beats Riker's'
But the next day he got offed by the very same bikers

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Teddy sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell from the roof on East Two-nine
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten
So they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan
Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head
Bobby OD'd on Drano on the night that he was wed
They were two more friends of mine
Two more friends that died

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Mary took a dry dive from a hotel room
Bobby hung himself from a cell in the tombs
Judy jumped in front of a subway train
Eddie got slit in the jugular vein
And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others
And I salute you brother

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died"

Special thanks (and apologies?) to Jim Carroll.

Mark Your Calendars!

April 18 is International Record Store Day, according to Greg Kot. So awesome!!!

To find participating stores, go here.

Hey Glenn Danzig,

I know that the rumors about a Rock of Love featuring you aren't true, but if they were... sigh.

(then again, I'm sure he doesn't look anything like this anymore)

more queen.

There's something really comforting about catching the end of We Will Rock You on the radio knowing that We Are The Champions will follow. When did that start? What DJ decided that those two go hand it hand, and how did it become tradition?

I guess I could just wikipedia it.

But I digress... it really makes me wish that iTunes had that feature. Like, if I put my library on random, it wouldn't know to put those songs together. But it should.

i flipping hate that don mclean song.

This coming February marks the fiftieth year of The Day The Music Died. For you uncultured types, this was the day that Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper died tragically in a plane crash. To mark this anniversary, there are a slew of events going on in the midwest, some even at the original venues they played for the Winter Dance Party tour.

Buddy impersonator John Mueller is heading the Winter Dance Party tribute tour, along with Ritchie impersonator Ray Anthony and Jay Richardson, The Big Bopper's son. Tour dates can be found here, but I would act quickly because they're selling fast.


Fifty years... it really makes you wonder how things would be different if they had survived. If the weather wasn't so treacherous, if they'd had a more experienced pilot. I really believe Buddy Holly would have had a great career and an extensive catalog of work. Ritchie too (No offense JP). I don't doubt that Holly would have continued in music, and continued making hits. But maybe that's just the fangirl in me.

wouldn't it be nice?

From jezebel, this great question is sure to make you think: What was the album that made you love music? Says blogger Hortense:

This is Paul McCartney's favorite album," my father would say before putting the record on, as if Beatle-street cred would keep me in the room long enough to hear every song. It wasn't necessary: as soon as Brian Wilson's songs started playing, it was all over. This was not a dumb Beach Boys surf album. This was something beautiful and sad and sweet; a strange and lovely album that showed me a side of my somewhat emotionally distant father that I'd never seen. Some fathers like to give lectures, some like to give hugs, some like to play catch. My father liked to listen to Pet Sounds, and he wanted me to like listening to it, too.

While Pet Sounds IS amazing, it seems to be one of those generic hipster answers.. If you read the comments in the post, you'll find a plethora of even more hipster-ish responses. Cat Power? Really? I doubt you were listening to Cat Power ten years ago. Were you shopping at Urban Outfitters then too?

But I'm not knocking this chick at all. Pet Sounds is truly a great record. And I was raised the same way as a child, only my mother was the one obsessed with music.



But if you really want to know what record totally opened my eyes and made me "love" music (as if I didn't love it before), I'd have to say it was Devo's Freedom of Choice. Sure, I loved my mother's fifties and sixties gems, as well as my brother's bad eighties metal/early hip hop, but Freedom of Choice was the first record that I found, that I discovered on my own.

I bought it at a very early age... I must have been ten or eleven. I was digging through the discount bins at the old Rose Records on Schaumburg Road... and I found it for something like a couple bucks, which I'm sure was a fortune to me at the time. Something about the cover just made me want to check them out. The red dome hats and silver suits, the nerdish glasses...

...anyway, I put the record on and loved it from side a to side b. They may be dismissed as a one-hit wonder, a novelty eighties group, but it really was a great album. It made me buy their other records, and in turn it made me want to check out other bands.



And that, actually, is what I think makes a record like that so important. When it makes you want to track down similar artists, similar genres; when it makes you branch out and check out the artists that influenced them, and the artists that they influenced themselves, that's when a record really makes an impression.

So thanks, Devo.

cheap cologne and that damn song too.

Something about seeing/hearing Naked Raygun on a jukebox makes me ridiculously happy. Sunday I was at Schuba's for an open mic, and not once, but TWICE, I heard the sweet sounds of Raygun. I was so giddy about it, I not only expressed my squealy girly excitement to my long-suffering boyfriend, who barely batted an eye, but I also explained it to his brother, who had no idea what I was talking about.

It's gotta be the Chicago pride thing. It's the same reason I have the Wax Trax! power lines tattooed on my arm. At any rate, here's a couple of the local bars with halfway decent jukeboxes:

● Inner Town Pub: 1935 W Thomas Street

If I remember correctly, they have Throb Throb and All Rise on the jukebox, which is my favorite album anyway. It's a little bit hipster, but the bar is neat and old. They've got Iggy and The Dolls on the box too, and pool tables. Overall, it's a cute little place.

● The Gingerman Tavern? 3740 N. Clark

Well, considering I was drunk the last time I was here, I could be completely wrong on the name and location. BUT, I know it's right next to the Metro, and it has a really great jukebox. As far as the Raygun goes, it only has Understand? on it, but that has the classics Treason and Wonder Beer, so that's good enough for me.

I'll post more when I remember.



Next week: A list of the best Mexican restaurants in the area that still have the game Burgertime.

just because.

I'm pretty sure that if heaven were to exist, Freddie would be playing sold out shows every night.

Whee 2009!

Unfortunately, I didn't know that we could smuggle our cameras into the Metro on NYE, otherwise I would've posted some really gnarly Dandy Warhols photos.

Best part of the entire night though was buying bottles of champagne from the bar... and walking around the venue, dressed to the nines, swigging from bottles of bubbly.

Oh, and the band... I'm sure the band was good too.



I'm stoked about oh nine though. Got some ideas a'cookin... or something to that extent.

ramalama

Incredibly sad about Bettie Page. Incredibly.

I was pretty miffed the other day driving home from work, when I heard Adam Ant's Goody Two Shoes on 94.7. Really, oldies channel? Don't get me wrong, I love my eighties new wave, but it does not belong on the same station as my fifties and sixties rock and roll. Am I just getting too old? Is this just one of those "things were better in MY day" rants?

It is really sad about the state of radio though. At least where I'm from. And maybe it has a lot to do with my musical tastes changing... but it's also depressing when you know that your oldies station now has a disco night.

quoi?

me: I just rented that Joy Division movie.

my sister: yeah i know it was a good fucken movie

me: But man. Ian Curtis was an asshole.

my sister: yeah he was, probably why he killed himself.

Hahaha.

no new tale to tell.

While I pride myself on my broad and varied musical tastes, I have to admit that I have filed away a catalog of guilty pleasures. Songs or artists that I will only listen to with certain friends, or even just myself. And everyone has them, it's not unusual, but my list seems to be rather large for some reason.

But then there are those bands you can listen to now that were once guilty pleasures, but are considered hip again for irony's sake... take for example my passion for cheesy eighties hair metal. I remember a time where I had to listen to Skid Row or Motley Crue in the privacy of my home or car, windows up for fear that I might look ridiculous. But lately it seems that the trends are turning back, the twenty year theory is in effect and now the new wave nostalgia is fading into rock and roll reminiscing...

...which really makes me upset to think that I remember when those bands were first popular. But then again, I also had a rattailed, bleached jeans-wearing, Powell Peralta-loving older brother.



But then there are the bands that you simply have no excuse for liking. There's no good defense for it. The only thing that I can say is, pop music is meant to be catchy, and meant to be popular... with that being said, I still don't think I can admit to much on this blog. For fear of ridicule, partly, but more for the fact that I don't want it coming back to haunt me. Hah.



While we're on the subject too, I just came to the realization that I am one year away from "twenty six years, on my way to hell". Thanks Trent Reznor. Way to make me feel old.

...Not that listening to nine inch nails is necessarily a guilty pleasure. But I guess I feel silly because in my heyday, I was one of those nine inch nails kids. You know what I'm talking about. Now that's embarassing.