Best Christmas Song Ever!!!

Now this post is an interactive one, I hope you all don't mind. This is the best Christmas song ever, as I have already said in the title, but there is no video. So, I kinda made my own. Here's the interactive part. Pay attention. First you hit the play arrow on the video, mute the volume and make sure to pause it at the beginning. The deer will be sitting by himself in a snowbank. Then you start the song. When the singing starts, unpause the video. At the instrumental parts, pause the video. When the vocals start again, unpause the video and so on and so forth. That's it. That is all you have to do. Now that you've got the gist of it, I hope you enjoy it...



The Dogmatics run a close second with their Christmas song, but even they pay homage in their song to this one. Axe will rock!

Dirty Eddie, Debussy and Hair Man

It is common knowledge that Dirty Eddie is Willie's best friend. His drumming and expansive imagination as recorded here help explain why. These performances from Birdland, a studio located down on the Cape, are presented here for your pleasure.

Human Sexual Response Reunion

Yes, I really wrote that that the Humans are having a reunion, you are not dreaming. I really wish I could go to this, but alas, it is just not to be. I'd be jealous of all my friends that will be performing and attending this spectacular event if I didn't love them all so much and wish that they all have the best time ever.

Boston Punk Rock Oral History Project

Boston Punk Rock OHP Intro!

Please, please people, for the love of all that is rock and roll-y participate in this project. Check out their site and you'll see that all that these historians are asking for is your story in your own words. This is a subject that is near and dear to my heart, the history of my beloved Boston Rock scene, so don't be shy. Don't be stingy, share you stories with everyone! This is especially important since Joe Harvard's indispensable site, Rock in Boston, is no longer available. Hopefully, this is temporary. It would be an immeasurable loss to those of us interested in the world of Boston Rock.
Juli Krysler ON: Dead Kennedy's 1980 Boston appearance

This is lifted from their YouTube page...
"The Boston Punk Rock Oral History Project page is going to be an ongoing work in progress.If you were part of the "scene" between 1978-1985 (*a few years earlier or later is ok too) We would love to hear from you. We can either arrange to meet you to record your thoughts and experiences or go ahead and record yourself. Then we will make it possible for these videos to be on here. Where this project will take us is anyones guess. The biggest purpose is to record peoples impressions, and memories. When we were involved and participating in it, no one had any idea that anyone would be interested decades later. We will be coming up with specific topics that we think need to be covered so keep checking back. Everyone's memories and impressions are important, be they negative or positive. We would also really like to hear from individuals that came through town with bands at that time. Boston as seen through the eyes of outsiders!
So let the recording begin."

Don't know about you, but I'd love to hear what stories these outsiders would tell.
The Cure - Secrets (Boston, 21 April 1980)

Kenne Highland 2008 Sessions

I don't know what it is, but I have always just loved being in the studio or at radio stations. The work that goes on at either place fascinates me, though much of it I find incomprehensible. In case you have some of the same obsession, here's some vids I found of my old bud Kenne Highland over on up to the YouTube t'other day. Yee ha! Roll 'em!!! Put the saddle on the stove because I'm riding the range tonight...Oh, by the way, I cut and pasted the descriptions off of YouTube.

Kenne Highland 2008 Session, pt 1 percussion / rhythm guitar 10.14.2008

Kenne Highland formerly with the Gizmos banged out 11 tunes on guitar & vocals with Happy Room Studios engineer Steve & percussionist unextraordinaire Sean in a monster all day marathon...results hopefully out in 2009? Extra thanks to Tim Carter (Assbeaters, French are from hell) for use of his guitar! This portion focuses on the initial basic tracks laid early in the day.
Kenne Highland Sessions Oct 16, 2008, pt 2

Kenne Highland Sessions 10/16/2008 pt 3

Kenne Highland recording guitar tracks including Redneck White Trash AND vocals for Ballad of GG Allin at Happy Room Studios
Kenne Highland 2008 Sessions, pt 4 VOCAL TAKES

Kenne Highland Recording at Happy Room Studios on October 14, 2008 pt. 4 - vocal take mania.

Untitled Playlist

I recently received a package in a plain brown wrapper. It was strange to find it on the drawbridge side of the moat, and the contents were stranger still. Only this small, very colorful photo and an unmarked CD with some music on it. This guy looks familiar to me, maybe a guest villain from an old episode of Batman or something? Or maybe I saw him once on Broad Street? He sure looks like a maverick. Anyway, the CD was pretty good so I submit it here to see if anyone can help me unravel this odd mystery. The only other clue I have is that he consorts with this four-legged Furry Ninja Hellbitch whose unholy screeching caterwaul could cause all the Banshees of the world to wet themselves. Be careful.

DMZ Reunion

You're Gonna Miss Me

This is the second show I've been to recently at Church. The first being the 30th anniversary of my beloved Axe. I was a lot more comfortable going out this time, it'd been only a couple of months instead of six years. I parked in the lot behind the bar. There was not another human in sight. Or so it seemed. As I turned from the car I saw a long hulking shadow begin to emerge from between the cars in the darkest part of the lot sporting the business end of a burning cigarette, glowing in the night. Oh Christ!!! It was Rico. Lurking and lurching around in the blackness, smoking a butt. "Jesus, I was trying to be fashionably late and you show up even later. Bastard!" We went in. Or rather, I went in. He ran into the Psycho bassist on the sidewalk and stopped to finish his cigarette and chat. No, not A psycho bassist, THE Psycho bassist. A couple of puffs later, the bass player from Hixx showed up. I was sensing a pattern here. Pattern? Get it? It's a bass joke. Look it up. The first people I saw once I was past the door were Blowfish and Miss Lynn, they were digging the sounds and it was nice to catch up with them again. I've decided if I go anywhere now and Blowfish and Miss Lynn aren't there, I'm not staying. They are that reliable a barometer. As a matter of fact, they should cut out the middle man and run their own club.

I'd left the yammering on the sidewalk for the hammering in Church. The New Frustrations were already playing. I really like them. They sound so clean and garage-y at the same time with a boatload of pop sensibility thrown in for good measure. Real catchy stuff. Later on, Tim showed me a piece that had broken off the top of his guitar, but I missed how that happend. Daang! Geezer found me in the crowd and introduced himself and he was with Jaded Jase. We all have a lot of fun wisecracking and messing around on MySpace. Check out their sites to hear the music they make. The one problem with these nights out is that there is never enough time to catch up with everyone. After making a sloppy lopsided round of the place, I finally set up camp with Frank Dehler and his lovely wife, The Bride of Frank. I love Frank, he is an inspiration. Looking back, I realize that watching Frank play with the Axe was the beginning of my love for the bass. And how can you not love someone who tells you that seeing you talking to Marsman across the room brought to mind a line from a Wallace Stevens poem, "She sang beyond the genius of the sea." It was shaping up to be a good night, so I settled onto a stool and chatted with the Dehlers and waited for DMZ to play.


photo Carol Kowalski

God forbid that things should ever go too smoothly though. I made the strategic mistake of sitting at the end of the rail that stands between the bar and the soundboard. Naturally, some drunkass guy wearing big studded belts set himself up against the post and he was talking with his buddy who must have been hard of hearing because drunkman was screaming his end of the conversation at the top of his lungs. So, he's already talking loud and then he started to accompany himself with enthusiastic and sweeping hand gestures resulting in him spilling his drink on me a little. Repeatedly. When he leaned back against the post that was sort of connecting us, his big-ass studded belt was poking me in my big ass and he kept backing into me and rubbing up against me. It was totally by accident, he was just really into his conversation with his buddy and oblivious to all else, but it was last annoyance I could tolerate at his hands so I moved over to the banquette and watched some guy taping the show on reel to reel. That was a lot more fun than it sounds. I was also conveniently set up behind the soundboard which is one of my four favorite places to be for a show, the others, in no particular order being dressing room, side of the stage or center back. When Rico came over to touch base I told him to grab his stuff and move it over because I had been forced to move from my other spot to get away from some guy who was feeling my ass for five minutes. Do you know what he said??? "Oh, it takes more than five minutes to feel YOUR ass." Then he waited with that 'hmmmm...I wonder if she's gonna kill me?' look. I was pissed because that was the funniest thing I've heard in like, well practically, EVER! My feeble retort "Well yeah, it does if you do it right!" was just reflex. It had no power. I got him back just a tiny bit a little later though when he was telling me he had a really good time running around Church and acting like a buffoon. "Oh believe me, that's no act!' Shit. It's gonna take me a really long time to get him back for that one. Someday Petroleum, your uppance will come!

DMZ was amazing. The band sounded so tight it was scary. It was kind of strange seeing Monoman without his organ in front of him. He looked like a new kind of naked. With all his jumping around and tambourine smashing I was afraid he was going to spin off his axis and into another universe or something. He had lots to say between songs and I missed out on most of it. I'm either deafer than I think I am, or the sound in that place is not so good. Jeff was hollering for more monitor and when he descended into begging for it, I felt kind of bad. I guess we're all deaf now. If anyone has any idea what he was ranting about before he bellowed "Joe Strummer is DEAD to me" I'd love to know the gist.

After the show I told Jeff they sounded fantastic and that was not easy in that place. He laughed as he pulled out a soft rectangular case from his bag. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a smaller fabric pouch which he opened. Inside that was a small case for his sunglasses. He put them in the case, and reversed the process, putting the case into the pouch and that back into the largest bag. It was like a Russian nesting doll sunglass holder. The reel to reel deck turned out to be a star of the night also. I was further entertained by Jeff trying to put the machine back into the case. Yes, surprise, the reel to reel was his. Analogman. That sounded kind of clever in my head, but it just doesn't look right written out...Anyway, he was trying to get the thing into the case which wasn't going to happen because he was trying to stow it in the top half of the case and it just would not fit in that way. I noted that aloud from the start, but he continued going at it with some confusion and much head scratching. Finally, there was no doubt in his mind that he was going about things the wrong way. The correct configuration of case and deck were achieved at last and as he snapped it shut Jeff was nice enough to note that I had been right all along and thanked me for the help. No problem man, anything for one of my rock star pals. You should have been there. I highly recommend the Marsman nights at Church. His DJ skills are superb and you'll run into lots of fun people and not all of them will touch your ass.

Frances Farmer Gals

The Frances Farmer Gals were a band my dear old friend Jeri-Ann formed when she moved out west. She sent me a demo tape and I thought some of you that knew her would like to hear it. She sang and played bass. There was a club called The X-Ray that she played at often and I have included a live tape from a night The Gals played. I particularly love the Matthew Hein cut.




Here we are at one of my legendary birthday parties. I'm sorry if I appear to be boasting, but I am just stating a fact. It was. 'Party of the Year' was a phrase I heard others use to describe the debauchery many times. Yes, that is Chet in the background and yes, most of the pictures from that night were creatively framed. Jeri-Ann was one of the most generous and loving people I have ever known. She will forever be dearly missed.


Here she is with her beautiful boy, Nikki Bo.

Axe did rock, tape didn't roll...

Hello babies, long time no see. I just got back from celebrating the 30th anniversary of Unnatural Axe and I have learned some hard lessons. First and most important, if you haven't used your equipment in awhile - take it out and play around with it a bit before you go out and attempt to use it in public. This applies to many things, but in this case I am talking about my camcorder. I decided to dust off my wide angle lens to shoot the second night of Axe celebration at Church and then I decided that I didn't like the fisheye effect and removed the offending lens, not realizing that I left a section of it on my camera which made it impossible to focus on anything for the rest of the night. So I now present the brief warm-up I did before I screwed up. It's historical is my story and I'm sticking to it. Miss Chain being presented by Richie to Willie with iconic personas passing by is a precious sight and I can only hang my head in abject shame that I missed the tableau of Cheeta Chrome paying Willie homage and then presenting his impossibly blond curly headed tyke to Willie as if to the Pope for a blessing. I'll always remember that, it was almost like watching animated stained glass, the scene was so darkly vibrant. It was a good night. Can't wait for their 50th.

"Twas the Night Before Axemas

And all through the lands,
The old punks are getting ready,
To hear their favorite bands...

No Cantone's, no Rat, Jumpin' Jack Flash or Inn Square,
No Storyville or Underground and Streets is not there,
No Channel, no Club, no Mavericks, no Space...

Where will we all go?
Looks like Church is the first place...



Great interview from the venerated Boston Groupie News.

More Beachmasters...on Metrowave

Well, I guess I'd better put this up before it's too late. Summer is slipping away. Full disclaimer: I managed these beachbums for a time and ended up no worse for wear just a little richer and very tired of finding sand in every nook and cranny. However, the many royal blue WD40 sized cans of beer I consumed at The Boston Beach Club have foamed and washed away the memory of everyone's Beachmaster name. Some input would be good here 'cause I really don't feel like researching this right now. I just wanna surf. But first, here's The Beachmasters, live from Hawaii on Metrowave from 1985.

The Piranha Brothers

Here's a tape that was sent to me by a bright young fellow I have run into on MySpace. I'm hoping that JJ will grace us with some of his undoubtedly fond memories of the The Piranaha Brothers. Turn it up now and rock your Sunday Brunch.

Aaaaand, JJ writes in;

As for the Piranha Brothers, they were a garage band from Quincy circa early/mid 80's that consisted of three brothers Mark (Stig) on guitar, Paul (Magoo) on bass and Gerard (Jeebs) on drums. Jimmy O'Halloran (Peter & Paul's older brother) rounded the quartet out on guitar.

They, like most of the bands I was in during that vintage, did most of their shows opening up for The Dogmatics, Last Stand, Del Fuegos, etc.

These days Stig & Jeebs are in the Swindells while Jimmy O plays bass for the reunion Dogmatics shows and Magoo is pretty much retired.

MacPodcast

DitchBoarding (whitetrash wakeboarding) Trick Guide



Things are a little slow around here, so I've decided to dig deep down into my archives and see what I could come up with and I found some tapes that friends had made for me years and years ago and well, they're all podcasts to me now. This was from a tape I got from Bob MacKenzie, a name well known in drumming circles. I knew him best during his time with the Mighty Ions, Beachmasters and Underachievers. He's really worked with just about everyone. He also writes and sings and was lucky enough to marry the loverly Cilla, who fronted the Underachievers.

So here's a big shot of Beachmasters to start you off and some other choice cuts from Mackie's collection. Maybe this'll help jumpstart the sun this week. Whatever you do, don't surf alone...

Late Risers Club with Greg Reibman

And a chunk of Needles and Pins with Plastic Jim.

I am New England's Bitch

July 20, 2008

Well, I am and I don't care who knows it. Our neck of the woods is so
gloriously beautiful I can hardly bear it. Last night, the ocean at
twilight and this morning I was up early and decided a ride out Route
2 way would be the cat's ass. I was right, the foothills of the
Berkshires swathed in a hazy blue mist, listening to the Stones doing
Sway, I Got the Blues and so on...Heaven. The wildflowers this summer have been breathtaking and the road crews have done a really great job strategically mowing around large swathes of the blooming flowers. Especially in Maine. Last month, the hillocks of clover were in bloom
and it made me delirious to look at them, three tones of lavender just
tumbling down the hillsides beside each overpass. I wish more
landscapers would use indigenous plants, the colors and texture are so
perfect here. I guess the beauty is just too subtle for most people to
appreciate, but I'm crazy about the native plants daddy.

Then, there is the beauty of the Orange line in Malden. That is the
appointed meeting ground for my long lost twin brother and me. Said
twin would be Rico Petroleum, we don't really look alike and aren't
nearly the same age, but the dissimilarity ends there. We have twenty
years worth of catching up to do and we had just barely started
when I found out that Willie Loco was getting The Persistence of
Memory Orchestra together for a show in Gloucester. I knew we had to
go. Especially when I found out that Rico had never seen Willie
perform before. It was sweltering hot and by the time we got to Cape
Ann the temperature had dropped by ten degrees. How great is that? We
were early so we hung out by the Fisherman Memorial statue at the water. In the oldest seaport in America. With a statue of Joan of Arc in the center
of the city, the ass of her horse staring you in the face as you first
drive into the center square of the city. Love that.

The rain held off until just before the show started and Willie and
his Orchestra were fantastic. The church was full, and on the historic
register, by the time we got there so we sat in a pew up front, all
the better to watch the performance. There was a tremendous thunder
storm during the set and the long rows of stained glass windows would
suddenly be lit from outside with bright strobes of lightning as
cameras flashed intermittently at the band. Thunder booming, drums
crashing, Willie wailing, it was so cool. Willie was as relaxed and in
as a good a voice as I've ever heard, hitting the high notes as
effortlessly as a boy soprano. He was just sparkling and playing the
hell out of a new piano already decorated with myriad Goya labels, G's
removed so they read as multiple oya's all over the case. He was
having such fun it was infectious.

I think maybe Russ hadn't had as much time as he would have liked to
rehearse with the rest of the guys and for his benefit Willie called
out the key before each song and as each song wound down, he'd give
the horns a look and shortly afterward he'd give a hand signal to shut
it down. They also got a different look for mistakes and we were
really laughing over it. When WA sang Me & Stravinsky Now, he screwed
up a part of the vocal so the rest of the band, Rico and I gave him
our version of the look and I know he screwed it up three more times
on purpose, just because he thought it was funny to see our stares.
His capacity for joy just bursts out of him and is so refreshing. Even
when he does songs on the most somber of subjects, like Shopping Cart
Louie and Trash, it's beautiful and ends up being uplifting.

I was fairly sure that Rico would like the band, but you just never
know, so when he started digging them I was totally loving it and that
made the night even better. I love it when someone gets turned on to a
band I love that they've never seen before and it's even better to be
there when it happens. When he started losing it over Jim's drumming
and kept elbowing me to ask "Did you see THAT?" and "Are you watching
him?" it was all I could do to sit still and stop myself from yelling
"I told you so!!! I told you so!!!" In everyday life, Jim Doherty just
has this sort of slightly detached quality about him, as if he's
trying to constantly avoid information overload and then he sits
behind the drums and it's like every detail of what's been going on
around him is funneled into beating the hell out his kit. It's fucking
awesome. He's so in the moment. You have to treat yourself and go see
this guy sometime. I haven't seen Jim play in far too long and I must
say, he did not disappoint. Even Willie was constantly sneaking
sidelong peeks to watch Jim annihilate his drums.

When I was talking to Jim after the show he told me how happy he is to
be back in New England and living in Portland. He's in the process of
opening up a recording studio there and I just can't wait to see what
he's going to do with that. I only had a chance to say a quick hi to
Russ and Mark. Henri Ferrini was there and video taping. Can't wait to
see that. Henri's work never disappoints. Willie's brother Bob was
there and I hadn't seen him in ages and had a chance to catch up and
learned that there's a fast ferry from P-towne now. Gotta try that. I
wish I had words to describe how fresh and clean the air smelled as it
hit us in the face when we left the church. The tide had come in and
the atmosphere had been scrubbed by the storm, it was just
unbelievable. Talk about a breath of fresh air.

Great night, great show, and I'm back together with my twin brother
and laughing so hard it hurts. Mostly because we are like two
curmudgeonly peas in a miserable shriveled pod and agree on most
things. It's been so good, and helpful, to compare notes on the
similarities of child rearing and elder care, it's really scary how
the problems are all the same. Three jars of applesauce open and no
one eating out of any of them, not wanting to get out of bed and all
the 'stop touching me' bickering. On the way back to the Orange line,
Rico was raving about how great Willie was and then ranting about how
he saw Jonathan Richman not too long ago and even though Richman is
from Natick, he still sucks, his talent puny when compared to Willie.
He continued to testify about the injustice of it all, rivaling even
his blistering screed about a Capella being played on the radio. I was
just really happy he liked the band.

In a couple of weeks the Boom Booms are playing in Gloucester at a
park called Harbor Loop, next to Fitz Hugh Lane's house, right by the
ocean. Reddy Teddy is opening and the show should be fantastic. Willie
said he'd been seduced by guitars again and that's why he got the band
back together. Rico is already insisting that POMO are the better band
even though he has never heard the Boom Booms play live. We'll see if
the guitars can work their magic on him too.

Late Risers Club 1984

Oh Blowie!!!



Late Risers Club promo


Tapes made possible by my friend LW, the mastermind behind Bluefingers. Thanks for one of the greatest jobs ever.

Larry and Todd hanging out on the stoop next door to the store on Charles Street.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Suade Cowboys...

A Lethal Dose

Ms Donna Lethal has graciously contributed this entertaining podcast for your listening pleasure. Please enjoy it responsibly...



Inspiration: Cesar Romero's "Thought for Today." I try and listen to
this every morning.
She Loves You: Peter Sellers + Nazi + Beatles
Transfusion: Nervous Norvus (from my "cars and accidents" playlist)
Girl on Death Row: Duane Eddy
That Makes It!: Jayne Mansfield ("so kinky!")
Blacula - radio spot
Apples and Oranges - Richard Dawson (yes)
Brown Sugar - alternate version
Sugar Sugar - Tom Jones
Yummy Yummy - Julie London
Yum Yum Girls - radio spot
Big Rock Candy Mountain - can I go here when I die? (Harry McClintock)
Rubber Room - Porter Wagoner (where I am now)
Buzzsaw Twist - it's the only way to go (The Gee-Cees)
If Jesus Came to Your House (it ain't the avon lady)
Here Comes the Judge - Pigmeat Markham
Caged Heat - radio spot
Dancing the Night Away - Motors
Zap! Pow! Do the Batman
Hong Kong Blues - Hoagy Carmichael
Mr. Ghost Goes to Town - John Buzon Trio
City of the Dead - Clash (the first Clash record I could find was this
10-inch and it changed my life. This song hit home - Lowell, MA in
1980 was pretty grim.)
Girl Can't Dance - Bunker Hill
Velvet Sugar - Velvets vs Archies (Mark Vidler's masterpiece)
Angels' Wild Women - radio spot
Spanish Stroll - Mink DeVille
Love Out of Time - Mr. Lethal!
Death Race 2000 - radio spot
Nut Sundae - I miss New England ice cream as Tontileo knows.
Another Girl, Another Planet - Only Ones
Edge of Reality - The KING!

Come To The Show

I Got One...You Got One...

Seeing as the red tide has abated, I felt safe in digging out my old clamshell mac to see what I had in iTunes there. With happy nostalgia the old operating system came right back to me with all its cute old fashioned icons and ways. There was quite a bit to sift through and I came up with a playlist for y'all. It is a little long but I could only leave out so much, so give me a break this time. Please. Here it is, I hope you enjoy it. Can you tell I like to wear my radio heart on my sleeve?

They Removed His Head...

Wax Hitler Decapitated


I am very afraid. We already have it on the highest authority that they saved Hitler's brain. But we don't know the whereabouts of that godawful, unholy joyriding glass jar. Could this be the beginning of the end? Or is Adolph just preparing to attend the three night festival of Unnatural Axe 30th anniversary Celebration/Tribute shows in August?

Best vids ever!

I am thoroughly ashamed of myself for taking so damn long to point out Dr Kruell's site to you. The undisputed best collection of video in the 'verse. It is a treasure chest of some of the best Boston bands ever with some Clash, Jam, Cure, Stiff Little Fingers, Damned, Buzzcocks...I think you get the idea. Lou Miami is there, Human Sexual Response, Neighborhoods. Just go look. Now! You'll love it.

La Peste - "Better Off Dead"

oooooh...a press release from Willie

Willie Alexander- Basement Video #1



PRESS RELEASE FOR GENERAL CIRCULATION

ROCKIN’ THE MEETINGHOUSE!

Rock’n’roll legend Willie Alexander with the Persistence of Memory Orchestra consisting of drums, keyboards, saxophone, and clarinet will be performing at the Gloucester Unitarian-Universalist Church on Saturday, July 19th, 2008 at 7:30 PM. Tickets at the door: $15 General Admission; $10 Seniors (over 65) and Students (with ID). The grand 1806 Meetinghouse is located at the corner of Middle & Church Streets in Gloucester’s Historic District. See www.gloucesteruu.org. for more information.

Willie “Loco” Alexander is a multi-talented musician, whose career has traced the history of Rock for thirty-five years. From the Lost, a 60s garage-band that made a couple of records for Capitol, to the psychedelic late 60s Bagatelle, to a brief stint in the post-Lou Reed Velvet Underground, the Boom Boom Band in the punk 70s, which recorded for MCA, to an introspective take on the 80s recording for the French label New Rose, and renewed band energy in the 90s with the Persistence of Memory Orchestra, Willie has maintained a consistently high level of emotional and artistic integrity.

Willie was recently featured on the cover of “The Sound of Our Town” by Brett Milano, a history of Boston Rock’n’roll. In recent years Willie has performed with local bands The Megawatt Blues Crushers and Alek Razdan’s A-Train.

The Persistence of Memory Orchestra will accompany Willie’s vocals and keyboards at the upcoming Gloucester UU Concert, featuring Russ Gershon (leader of the internationally acclaimed Either/Orchestra) on tenor sax, Mark Chenevert (Chandler Travis Philharmonic) on tenor sax & clarinet, and Jim Doherty (Ibrahima’s World Beat and the Well Babies) on drums with surprise guests.

POMO will play material from their two self-titled albums on Accurate Records as well as from Willie’s new CD “The Fisheye Brothers,” a collaboration with Jim Doherty, inspired by Gloucester heroes and places. Persistence of Memory Orchestra’s second album “The East Main Street Suite,” has been described as “…a rich stew with a base of Rock’n’roll and elements of Jazz, Beat poetry, klezmer, samba and electronica mixed in. To say it defies category hardly does justice to the originality and uniqueness of this music.”

SUMMARY FOR LISTING:
EVENT: Willie Alexander & the Persistence of Memory Orchestra
DATE: Saturday, July 19th, 2008 at 7:30PM
LOCATION: Gloucester Unitarian-Universalist Church, corner of Middle & Church Streets in the Historic District
TICKETS: $15 General; $10 Senior (over 65) & Student (with ID) at the door, Special Needs community Free of charge.
INFORMATION: www.gloucesteruu.org

Sammy Davis Jr trousers

Jim "Howling Wolfchild" Keough presented by Daang! Radio

I am so frikkin' proud to present The Great Broad Street Riot's first podcast sponsored by Daang! Radio. When you get sick of the same old radio, we give a Daang! I searched high and low, I got myself in a Stranglehold and was lucky enough to get out of it with a podcast fashioned by Jim "Howling Wolfchild" Keough who has excellent taste in both music and the bands he fronts. And Queens who have blogs about Broad Street. And lots of other stuff I won't mention here. Thanks Dude, you killed it.

I'll be needing a lot more of these. Don't act surprised when I come around and hound you for one, so you might as well just start volunteering now. All you have to do is pick some songs you like, burn them to a disc and send them in. I'll take care of the rest.

Enjoy!



I must apologize for adding in some videos to finish up the list as I had a few technical problems along the way. Hopefully, I will have secured some seasoned and competent roadies to help me with the gear for the next podcast. Competent roadies, yeah right.

Mission of Burma - That's how I...


Paul Weller "Come On Let's Go"


T. Rex - Dandy In the Underworld


rich kids - ghosts of princes in towers

Summertime

Summertime is so fucking awesome...not the season so much as The Unnatural Axe song. Here I have a preview of one of three versions of Summertime recorded in 1988 at Mission Control studios in Westford MA. Sure New Kids on the Block recorded there, but I'm afraid nothing they did measures up to the Axe. Maybe because they didn't have Liz Ireland and Joe Viglione producing them, like the Axe did. The working title for this compilation of Unnatural Axe rarities, including more cuts from the studio and some live stuff, is Out of Control. Hopefully it will done in time for the Axe 30th anniversary jubilee. Watch for it on Varulven Records, Boston's oldest record label run by Boston's oldest...ah...nevermind...


What July 4th weekend would be complete without a viewing of Jaws, a classic summer movie if ever there was one?

Jaws Trailer 1975 Backwards



Check this out too. I like to refresh my memory on the details once a year.



And no, there is nothing that someone won't write a Broadway musical about.

1776

Country View Motel and Guest House

Yesterday I took a ride to Ogunquit to meet up with Martine at the incredible Country View Motel and Guest House.

What a quaint and charming place to stay. It's decorated perfectly. Very country, but without a hint of cloying clutter. The rooms are so comfy, appointed with posh seating areas and porches. And they allow pets!



If you happen to be into the supernatural, they even have a haunted room. Martine asked me if I'd like to see it and I said NO. Then she told me the ghost was named Elsie May and she was known for turning the radio in there off and on during the night. Okay, seemed like light duty for a ghost, so on my way out I let her talk me into going in there. Smartass that I am, before I crossed the threshold I called out "Elizabeth, come find me..." The place is haunted all right. The second I walked in all the hairs on the back of my neck became fully erect and stayed that way while I said hi and told her I hoped she was okay before I walked out. She seemed nice, and I might stay there some time just out of curiosity, but it's best to be cautious about these things as spirits have a way of seeming really nice up front, and then just like the living, they can become real assholes once you get to know them. If I do stay there some night, I won't be having pea soup for dinner, if you know what I mean...

Michael

After I wrote about The Girls, I was going to go ahead and write about Human Sexual Response, but I find myself needing to go even further back. I've been thinking so much about Michael, my friend who came up with the idea of going to the 1270 on Boylston Street in the first place. If you knew me, you would have known Michael too. But none of you do know him, because he died in a car accident on Labor Day in 1976. It feels strange to be missing him so acutely lately, after all this time.

No matter how I try, I can't remember how we met. Probably at the bar in Tyngsboro or maybe at a Dignity meeting at The Christian Formation Center. It wasn't as awful a place as it sounds, it was home to a group of Franciscans and a really fun place to hang out. And they let me serve the wine at communion sometimes, even though I'm not Catholic. Michael was dating a guy named Hobart, and they'd come over to my house a lot and on a night like tonight, we'd goof around in the yard at dusk playing frisbee, spinning in place until we became dizzy and fell down, or just screeching and generally acting like fools until it was time to go out. Or head over to The Center and hang out in the murky and luridly decorated grotto or follow a path through the fields and woods to the bank of the Merrimack River. Still doing kid stuff but adding in elements that, at the time, we thought were very adult. It didn't hurt that the drinking age was 18 either. Just having loads of fun all the time acting all dorky and wild.

Hobart and Michael were a great couple. We went to the drive-in to see a double bill of The Exorcist and Jaws one summer night. My first time seeing both of those movies. The Exorcist I've never seen again, thank you. Jaws became a lifelong obsession. We had such a good time that night, screaming and carrying on. Michael had seen both movies before so he knew all the scary parts and made sure to use that knowledge to great advantage in frightening the bejesus out of me. Michael and Hobart were always so happy together and it was a good time just being around them.

This was back in an era where being gay was just not done. Parents were always looking for 'a reason' to explain why their child was gay. Most often, friends were held responsible, and Michael's parents were no different. He had decided to be honest and come out to his mother and father and things at home became very strained after that, since they were not able to deny or ignore what was 'wrong' with their son. They knew where he was and what he was doing on those nights when he got home in the wee hours of the morning, and one night, after Hobart had dropped him off, the fighting was too much and they kicked him out of the house. Michael tossed his record collection and stereo into the trunk of his car, took a few clothes and headed in the direction of Hobart's house. He never made it that far. While listening to Dark Side of the Moon and driving a little too fast he lost control on a winding road, became airborne and slammed into a house. All that love, all that promise, that beautiful boy, my precious friend, lost in an instant.

It was really rough trying to come to terms with his death. I'd never lost a close friend, Hobart was inconsolable for days. He'd hugged me so hard at the calling hours that it left my torso strapped with bruises, he slept on the grave for the first night. Our hearts were so thoroughly broken we didn't know what to do, but we figured out quickly that we must celebrate Michael and who he had been. His birthday fell nearly one month to the day of his death. Hobart and I planned a party and brought a birthday cake covered in pastel roses and some champagne to the cemetery. We threw confetti and blew noisemakers, held our glasses high for a toast and played the car radio. We sat on the grass, sang Happy Birthday and we lit the candles and waited until the wind blew them out before we cut a big wedge of cake and left it for him. When we came back the next day, the cake had all been eaten away, but the frosting was untouched. It looked like a Dali painting, the colored frosting twisted and drooping on the plate.

Michael and I would have been inseparable in the Rock scene. After all, we liked dancing and we looked divine. I thought of him often at shows and how much he would have loved the bands. It hit especially close when The Humans would cover Rebel Rebel. That was one of our favorite Bowie songs to dance to. We agreed almost to a song which Bowie stuff sucked and which didn't. Dini took the lead vocal on Rebel Rebel and he sang the fuck out of it. Windle, Casey and La made noises that were utterly inhuman, no joke, rising in the background sounding like a marauding hoard of baboons from a parallel universe. Waving their fists and screaming "Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!" Michael would have loved it as much as I did. And he would have totally dug that it blew the Bowie version out of the water too and I'm sure we would have laughed as we did a wild, frenzied dance.

Usually, it doesn't make me sad to think about him, but lately I think I've been grieving a lot about what he missed. All the great things I've seen, all the fantastic music I've heard that he would have loved too. Especially the crazy ass bastards who were fool enough to be my friends, he would have loved you too. And I would have so dearly loved having him there and you all would have loved him too. Maybe that's why I always had such a great time being part of it all. I was out there watching and having fun for two.

Hobart finally retired and now has time to fix things around the house for me. We were talking about those old times and he told me how Michael would always get so giddy whenever he saw me. When he said that, I felt something in my heart click together. A few days later I swung by the cemetery and stopped at Michael's grave. "To know him was to love him" is engraved on his oval granite marker and that always cues up a variation by Marc Bolan in my head, so it's impossible not to smile. As I headed away I noticed the name of the path as if I had never seen it before. Robert B Gay Avenue. Now my Michael is staying on Gay Avenue. How he would have loved that. Still making me laugh after 32 years. If you happen to see us in whatever place there is that passes for heaven, stand back. We are gonna have a lot of catching up to do. And some serious rocking out to take care of.

Seventeen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was so touched by Russell and Garnett hugging each other after the game last night that I went looking for a motherfucking photo of that moment and found this interview. But no photo. What cool guys.

Kevin Garnett and Bill Russell Interview


Kevin Garnett & Bill Russell Conversation - 2 (Mar 6, 2008)


I hope someone out there remembers details from the night some of the Celts showed up at Brandy Pete's and is willing to share. Pretty please. You can be anonymous, so don't be shy.

Coach Doc Rivers' 2008 Gatorade NBA Finals Victory Splash

Coming soon...

Teasers from Unnatural Axe Tribute

Before I go any further I wanted to let y'all know that there are some cuts from the upcoming Unnatural Axe tribute disc on Lawless Records that are posted online. There are three songs up on the Axe's own site and Big Noise as covered by Stranglehold is also available for a listen. Now that's how you make a happy Queen. There will be a three night celebration and record release party in August, as more details become available I will keep you posted.

Oh hell, I got no pictures to post so I might as well put up another, very early version, of Hitler's Brain...

They Saved Hitler's Brain at The Rat

The Girls

Dini and I hamming it up late one Easter night in the ladies room at Sporter's. I had forgotten how convenient that little shelf behind the toilet always was.

Well I suppose now is as good a time as any to start at the beginning. Or maybe not, depending on how linear of a person you are, but anyways here goes. My life in the rock scene was born in Boston in a seedy gay bar on Cambridge Street called Sporter's. Right around the corner from Mass General. Affectionately known to us as Spurter's. Not so hard to do the math on that one. A bar so notorious that when they remodeled the block a few years ago, they moved the entrance of the building to the other corner and gave the building a new number as the street address in an effort to remove the taint. Years later someone told me that Whitey Bulger used to hang out there sometimes, especially when we were serving the cheap three course dinners. That explained why the balding old guy peering out at me from the front page of the Herald so often looked so damn familiar. If only I had known when I was sending out his main course.

As usual, I'm getting way ahead of myself. In around 1975 I was meeting a lot of gay guys when I went to hairdressing school. We started going out to a bar in Tyngsboro. I loved my friends and loved clubbing, but did not love the music. After suffering through a million metal and hippie bands, something worse was afoot. Disco! How I hated it but that was what all the gay boys liked, so I was stuck with it.

Rather, all the gay boys except two. There was a DJ who I became friends with that worked at the bar and I could count on him to play my requests once in awhile, dancefloor-clearing as they might have been. He used to take frequent trips to Jamaica and bring back lots of records. These tunes did not fly at the bar and when he took to the dance floor and started skanking away it was an explosion of leg pumping and flying elbows. Anyone who was left trying to dance moved slowly away and stared at him, as if they were wondering if he be may on the verge of having a medical emergency.

As long as we're here, this is the same fellow who dubbed me Tontileo. He told me it was an American Indian word that meant 'rushing waters' and he had thought of it one evening when I had consumed excessive amounts of beer and spent half the night peeing in the woods. Oh, the fond, fond memories...This was just a couple of years after Jaws had made cinematic history as the first Hollywood Blockbuster ever and my DJ drove a white van that had a painting of a great white on the side that appeared to be lunging for you. The inside was tricked out in an appropriate undersea theme. It was just so over the top and hilarious. I wish I had pics of it. The only thing was missing was a dent.

My other friend with good taste was a rock fan and we found ourselves comparing likes and bitching about the intolerable rubbish we had to listen to there. One night when we were especially sick of it all, we enlisted a third and hit the road for Boston where he had heard about a place called the 1270 that might be more to our liking. It was and it wasn't, and someone there told us about the West End Tennis Club, the name Sporter's used to get around the Beacon Hill Civic Association. They told us there was no disco there and that they had a jukebox with a few decent songs on it, so off we went.

It became a habit. The place was always filled with interesting men. The Cosmic Muffin was a regular, there was even another woman there sometimes. I met my best bud Kennie there. First night I met her she let me crash on her love seat. I became a Sporter's regular, eventually ending up as an employee. The space would have made a great rock bar. Exposed brick painted a dark brick color, go figure, and a few nooks and crannies along with the three main rooms. It was small, but really cozy. I met a lot of life long friends there.

One night I was enjoying myself at the bar and Dini Lamot and Windle Davis walk up to me and introduce themselves and invite me to come and see their band, Human Sexual Response. Of course I would go. I mean c'mon? Dini, dark hair looking a little like Marc Bolan and Windle with his blonde hair reaching past his ass? They were like both sides of a gorgeous coin. These guys were fabulous and they brought me over and introduced me to their friend Slag, a film student at Emerson. I didn't find out until later that it was Slag who had dispatched Dini and Windle to meet me so that they could introduce me to him so that he could ask me to be in his film Straight to Hell. He was afraid I'd think he was some kind of crackpot and turn him down on the spot if he approached me with the request himself. Well, he is a crackpot and that's one of the major reasons I told him I'd do the film and I ended up loving him to death too. One of the funniest bastards you would ever want to meet.

I had told Dini and Windle that I would love to see their band and I did at the first available opportunity. That happened to be a gig that was at an American Legion or VFW somewhere on the way to Cleveland Circle. Here I was, practically fresh off the farm (Did I neglect to tell you that I'm a farmers daughter? That's another story...) about to see a double bill of The Girls and Human Sexual Response.

Girls - Keep it Simple


The gig poster had the slogan 'naked tits and hominy grits' splashed across it, but I saw evidence of neither that night. I was transformed, if you've never seen The Girls it's hard to describe. I guess the fact that I was really into the visual arts and was a particular fan of Dada and the Surrealists prepared me to appreciate the spectacle being laid out before me. They paid attention to every detail and gave excellent show. Smoke, mirrors, tapeloops, explosives, whatever it took. It's kind of scary, but the film does do them justice. Oh yes, this is just what I needed after being trapped on the farm at the very bottom of the swampy Merrimack River Valley for nineteen years having to sift through top 40 on the radio with crappy reception. Here was a whole tribe of spectacular misfits entertaining each other and not caring a whit what anyone else, especially 'normals', thought about it. It was gooood. I was in.

The Girls in the Bathtub


Do yourself a favor and check out their other songs Vietnam Women, Okey Dokey and We're All Living on a Cubist Grid. They put out one single, The Elephant Man/Jeffrey I Hear You. If I ever find my copy I'll try to post it. I wish I could remember the names of all the band members, but alas, demon alcohol has wiped out those brain cells long ago and all that's left is the name David Hild and I think he was the drummer, but I wouldn't bet on that. If anyone has more details, please comment.

to be continued...

Mighty Mighty Scottish Darleks vs Falsetto Bosstones Sock Puppet Theatre

I need someone with the skills to make me a mash-up of these two videos.

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones "You Gotta Go"


Darleks vs Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre


While trolling the internets for inspiration this morning I found this quote from Chuck Warner, president for life of Throbbing Lobster.

Chain Link Fence -Fireworks EP (Bisque-4) Believe it or not these guys
started off as an unbelievably earnest and sloppy popthrash band, but
Billy had his heart set on being a crooner. The results on this one
were pretty schizophrenic. Billy's younger brother Dickie Barrett
couldn't understand why I wouldn't sign his band, too. I told him
every rhythm section should know how to play ska, but no one should be
allowed to record it. Heh.

Big Brown at Belmont

Here's a really good article about the race. Interesting point of view. If I get it together and make it to the track, I'm gonna box Denis of Cork with BB and Icabad Crane. I've liked Denis and Icabad since the Derby, I don't know why, I just do. That Japanese horse looks like he might be scary good though. I don't dare get too excited about the potential for a Triple Crown win. Don't want to jinx anything, I'm old school that way.

Here's a pic of Scott, me and Ra in the back room of Sporter's. Looks like I'm thinking deep thoughts like 'what happened to my makeup?' I always think of Ra on big party days 'cause going to his house you felt just like family. If you had a really cool family and all liked each other that is. Well maybe it wasn't just like family. It was much better. Happy Belmont and Go Celtics!!!

Does anyone have twenty grand I can borrow???

My Broadluxe is being auctioned on the 21st. I need a couple of these condos. And a parking space.

Oh wait, I found one. It's only $80,000.00, but it's at 80 Broad Street and the Broadluxe is at 105. God, I just love saying Broadluxe. Broadluxe, Broadluxe, Broadluxe! At least the parking space comes with a valet. Excellent...The valet can give me a ride home in my own car and then go and park it.

If someone happens to have a cashiers check for twenty thousand that they don't need...I'd really appreciate it. Of course, that's just to bid. If I get one I'll be needing just a wee bit more.

Rosanella, Rosanella, Rosanella...

Seeing Chuck Myra and Walter Powers again in Bass Rocks reminded me of when I first met them. They were playing in Marc Thor's band, The Marc Thor Band. He's the one wearing the denim jacket in the pic. For the life of me I can't remember who played guitar. Was it Ian Blast?

Along with the Humans, Girls, Lou Miami and the Kozmetix, La Peste, Neighborhoods and Unnatural Axe, Marc Thor was in my regular rotation. Yes, you're right, I rarely had a night off. As a general rule, only Tuesdays were spent at home. Marc was an amazing performer and songwriter. He wrote, sometimes with Nola Rezzo, sang and played piano. (There were some truly epic Thor-based parties at Nola's studio adjacent to the late Charles Street Jail, with the scent of Buzzy's Fabulous Roast Beef always heavy in the air.) Last I heard, Marc was composing symphonies.

Oh the songs! Circling LA is on the live Rat album. There's a 45 with Love Sucks and Trak, a song inspired by Burroughs, and there was a red flexi disc in a coloring book of gig posters that had Rosanella and Mother Isn't Right on it. Rosanella was my favorite of all his songs.

Sixteen years ago I got a new kitten and couldn't decide on a name. I wanted something with Rose in it as a way of honoring a very cool Franciscan that I loved whose drag name happened to be Rose. The kitten had been born the first week of May but the crazy cat lady I got her from couldn't remember the exact day, so I decided to celebrate her birthday every year on Derby Day which always falls on the first Saturday in May for those of you who have not been paying attention. Run for the Roses, another sign that she needed a rosy name. So, remembering Marc's song, Rosanella it was. I never realized until much later that the song was based on a bizarre Fairy Tale. God, she used to love it when I sang that song to her.