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Posts tagged ‘reads’

Oct 8

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Quick Shares: “Light – On the South Side” (a Killer Combo of Riffs & Reads)

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good boy this year. Ok, maybe not very, but still…I walked the line. Last year I did you a solid by trimming my list from a dozen hard to find records down to just three. I know, I know…having the elves trawl old record shops and flip vinyl bins from Chicago to Memphis is not a good use of their time…especially the during xmas season. ‘Nuff said. Lesson learned. Now I need a favor from you. 

I’ll make it easier on you this year: one request. Seriously, one request. I’ll take care of the rest. There is this book+record combo that looks as bow down as bow down gets. It’s called, “Light: On The South Side“. I caught a glimpse of it on the web and it sucked me in…deep. I wanted to be present  at nearly every scene depicted (I’ll skip the one where the chick is laying on the pool table, though). 

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The fact that this comes with two long players makes my turntable sweat. That track listing smokes.

Just in case you aren’t sure what I am talking about, here is a trailer for the book that I found on YouTube. Word to the wise…have the speakers turned up for this one.

Thanks again. Hey, don’t bother sending that reminder this year…I’ll have the special egg-nog sitting in the fridge for you when you stop by (did you want me to use the Henessey or the Rémy this time?).
Cheers, Judd.

Light: On The South Side

(description from the website)

Between 1975-1977 Chicago’s South Side night clubs were a little lighter. Not just because of a lanky white guy skulking about, but rather because of the camera and strobe light he carried. Michael Abramson hit Perv’s House, Pepper’s Hideout, The High Chaparral, The Patio Lounge, and The Showcase Lounge, not to capture the artists on stage, instead popping off a half dozen rolls every night on the crowd. 

Light: On The South Side gathers for the first time over 100 of these images, as Numero shines its own strobe on yet another dark corner of the past. The 132-page hard back book features photos, an ephemera section, and an essay by Nick Hornby. Housed in a gorgeous slipcase with the 12X12 book is Pepper’s Jukebox, a seventeen track compilation of the kind of funky Chicago blues heard from the stage and the Wurlitizer. The deluxe 2LP set is packaged in a sharp gatefold jacket with two inner sleeves crammed to the gills with label scans and stories. 

Aug 12

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Tammy Wynette: “She’s Just Unrelenting” (painted up & powdered up and ready to go bad)

If you are a fan of country music…real country music…you most surely will be interested in this book about a true queen of the country music scene: Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen.

I’m not a huge Tammy fan if for no other reason than that I am a causal listener…for now). That being said, I’ve never left the room or hit the skip button when her pipes are working their magic.  I found this interview with the book’s author, Jimmy McDonough, on NPR. Says, McDonough: “I have a theory that great artists learn how to do one thing great. And that’s Tammy,” McDonough says. “In terms of a slow, sad song, nobody could rip it up like Tammy. She is just unrelenting.”

There is also a can’t-stop-reading excerpt from the book on the page. Dolly Parton chimes in with some dropped-jaw comments, too. Here is a killer bit:

When she gets to the chorus, Wynette belts out the words with the force of an air-raid siren, yet barely bats an eyelash. There’s zero body language—the drama’s all in the voice. She doesn’t act out the song or punch her fist in the air; in fact, she barely moves an inch. Tammy the statue. Until a Tinseltown choreographer teaches her some questionable dance steps in the mid-eighties, Wynette will remain frozen onstage. The anti-style of Tammy’s wax-figure performances absolutely mystified Dolly Parton. “I could not believe that all of that voice and all that sound was comin’ out of a person standin’ totally still. I’d think, ‘How is she doin’ that?’ It seems like you’d have to lean into your body or bow down into it or somethin’ to get all of that out. I’ve never seen anything like it to this day. I was in awe of her. I thought she had one of the greatest voices of all time.”

You wan’t read the whole dang thing now, don’t you. The rest of the excerpt is bow-down. I missed three subway stops because it sucked me in. Have at it…here. The book is on my 2010 reading list. 

Here she is…the swingin’est swinger you ever had…

p.s. McDonough also wrote the very insightful, “Shakey” bio on one of my personal faves, Ol’ Neil Young. I’ve spun this yarn three times already. Eat a peach…

p.p.s. NPR is kicking many goals right now with their multi-angled music coverage. Hipster bullshit or not, they are doing a hell of a job. The apps are gold, too. 

Apr 20

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Editor’s Note: “For Good or Ill” – Hunter Thompson returns to Rolling Stone (1973)

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See the full gallery on Posterous

A few snaps from the Rolling Stone with Hunter’s return to form

 

Bring on the gibberish!

I recently scored a few vintage Rolling Stone Magazine back issues at my local independent record shop. The walls are lined with these suckers. I was in there at lunch time doing my “Lunch Break Lacquer” routine and I spied a couple oldies, but damn goodies. 

One of the ones I picked up was from 1963, issue number 128 with Bette Midler on the cover. Nothing against Ol’ Bette, but her mug never enticed me to buy a magazine before…and may never, period.  The reason why I picked it up was for the Hunter S. Thompson article, “Fear and Loathing at the Superbowl”. 

Hunter had been absent from the pages of the fabled rock rag for sometime (whereabouts unknown), but returned to the mag and returned to form in one fell swoop.  The Superbowl was being played in Los Angeles that year., where the ‘Skins” and “Fins” would go head to head in a battle of the bored in what resulted in a nationally televised snooze fest.

The night prior to the game, The Good Doctor was holed up in a San Francisco (up all night, of course) drinking coffee and Wild Turkey, smoking short Jamaican cigars, while getting “more and more wired” on the Allman Brother’s, “Mountain Jam” that was howling out of four big speakers hung from each corner of the room”.

The next night he made haste to LA to catch the game.  He spilt the gory details all over this issue of Rolling Stone. At the bottom of the article there was a note from the editor (see pic). Apparently they were happy to have him back…as I am sure the reader’s were as well.

Hunter, back on the gig…”a man on the move and just sick enough to be totally confident“

Nov 5

I just tore up Chuck Klosterman and left him alone in a London Pub bathroom (15% of a true story)

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I like to do my reading in bars. I like that reading is a solitary activity; I don’t like solitary confinement. I like to read in bars because there is always background action. It reminds me of when bar bands play where half of the audience is listening and the other half is fragmented with loud conversations, hook-ups, put downs and bar flies who drink Mad Dog margaritas and roll funny cigarettes.  

The latest bar-book session I had was to finish off Chuck Klosterman’s third book, “Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of True Story“.  It was my first time reading Klosterman. I had first heard (of) him on Bill Simmon’s ESPN podcast, the B.S. Report. Based on that initial listening, I think Chuck would make an excellent, if not slightly deranged, police interrogator. Not Richard Belzer on Law & Order deranged…more like like way Mork from Ork would do the job. I especially liked the way he kept dry humping what ever topic he and Simmons were discussing. He came off like an obsessive compulsive who flicks the light on and off before entering or room or a little kid who can’t help picking at his scabs.  

I found it entertaining. 

The book centred on Chuck’s road trip from rock and roll grave site to grave site, spanning east coast to west, from NYC to Seattle. Could Chuck find answers to the existential and cultural questions as to why Rock Stars who die prematurely, get (commercially) better with age?  Fuck no. He spent most of the time talking about past and present girlfriends and how he either was fucked up in the relationship, fucked up the relationship or couldn’t get fucked in the relationship. 

All of this was mildly entertaining and maddeningly narcissistic. The saving grace of all of this girlfriend bullshit was when he was able to compare evey female relationship he ever had with each original and faux member of the band, KISS. That was worth the price of the book (but only if you buy it used and in paperback).

After reading the book, I am not sure what to think. He is talented for sure, but the book left me with a bad date feel.  You take a girl out, conversation picks up, you think it may be going some place and then…you hit quicksand. Halfway through the book I felt like I in quicksand [note: I have never actually been in or even seen quicksand, but this is how I imagined it would feel]. Chuck was there for me though. He kept offering me a branch to grab on to so he could pull me out. I kept reaching for the fucking branch and every time I was almost out of the quicksand, Chuck would lose his grip and back in I went. 

I am going to give his first book, “Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs” a read and see where that leads me.  As I said, I find Klosterman entertaining and I enjoyed his writing writer. His recent review of the Beatles re-issues was sardonic, funny and, oddly, right. Check it out HERE.

I finished the book at the bar. I usually know how engrossed I am in a book by how many beers I drink while reading. If I can get off my stool and not have to take a piss straight away, I didn’t drink too much and was engrossed. If I put down the book and need to do my Usain Bolt impression to the toilet, I know I made many trips to the bar and wasn’t all that into what was I reading.

As soon as I finished Chuck’s book, I sprinted for the bathroom. In fact, I forgot to leave the book at the table. I got in there, tucked it up under my arm and did my business. When I was leaving, I decided this book needed a fitting resting place other than my Shelves of Cool.   I left the book atop the paper towel dispenser.  I figured if someone would actually want a book that was left in a Swine Flu, Ass Flu or Flu Du Jour filled London pub bathroom…they could have it. 

I would love to see their reaction when they got to the end of it and realised that I ripped out the second to last page. Maybe it will make sense after all…

Tune Tags (Chuck’s Blues):

http://listen.grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf
http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/48f3f305ad1283e4/4af2fee231de9a59/48f3f3053cbe0b4e/5fde1bd2