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Showing posts with label ray farrell•. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ray farrell•. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Issue #75 (December 8, 2010)

Centennial, Wyoming

Photo by Joe Carducci


















Armando Acosta, September 23, 1952 - November 25, 2010








Armando and Saint Vitus
by Joe Carducci




There was no longer long-shot on SST than Saint Vitus. And as long as it was, it was slow too, but slow like the tortoise. As the band became a fixture on major summer festivals in Europe these last fifteen or so years they surely trod the bones of many a long forgotten hare. I generally preferred slower, heavier music ever since I found it somewhat difficult to settle for anything else after first hearing Black Sabbath at a neighbor’s house in 1970. When I came down to L.A. and SST from Berkeley in 1981 I considered Flipper my favorite band. In that sense I was ready for Saint Vitus when I first saw them.

But in practical terms at SST in spring 1982 I wasn’t so sure about doing their record. Black Flag was going to halt their deal with Unicorn so we moved out of the Unicorn offices near the Tropicana in West Hollywood and down to a one-room office on Phelan Ave. in North Redondo Beach. Quickly Black Flag rented time at a practice studio called Pax in Carson where Overkill practiced. Though we’d managed to release the Minutemen’s “The Punch Line”, and Saccharine Trust’s “Pagan Icons” albums soon after I came down, those records were already in place and I didn’t do much on those. But we also had the early Black Flag singles to keep in print, and the ill-fated “Everything Went Black” vault comp, plus we’d already recorded the first Meat Puppets album, the basic tracks for the Overkill album, and we still had the Stains album and an earlier Overkill 45 to get released. And we had no real cash flow separate from Black Flag’s live revenues; we wouldn’t for another two years. Yet here was Greg and Chuck telling me I had to see this new band they’d heard over at Pax. I think this was April, 1982 and Black Flag was working Emil into the band and preparing for the Summer tour. I went over with them and met and watched Saint Vitus play their set. The first thing you noticed was Armando’s drum kit! The damn rack toms petered out to a size smaller than bongos, and he had layers of cymbals, and double-kick drums of course, but also a couple floor toms as large as most humans’ bass drums! You couldn’t even see him behind them, and he was big! The whole band looked at first glance like they might have missed that it was now the 80s! Then you’d catch the visual and audio Germs references and find out that they saw bands at the Fleetwood as well as the Long Beach Sports Arena, and they were the only SST band conversant with UK punk bands like Discharge.

Dez was of course immediately, totally into them, and possibly it took Henry, Mugger, Spot and I a split second longer. My concern was how would we budget for another album release with no cashflow, so when Greg asked what I thought about doing their album, I responded, “How about a single?” Obviously I hadn’t yet clocked the tunes’ running times, nor figured on how wide a groove those low-end rumbling progressions were going to require; they couldn’t do a 7” 45. Spot found that one of the Media Art guys had opened up Total Access studio in Redondo and he had just run the Descendents through it so he booked an overnight -- ten hours for $200 if I remember. The recording began with load in at 10pm August 16, 1982 and went til about 9am the next morning. Dez and I went in with Spot. He used the studio’s main room with its carefully calibrated angles and acousticly perfect design merely to run the amp and mic cords and power cables through to a larger raw space that Total Access rented but hadn’t incorporated into its business yet. It must’ve been about 25 x 100 feet with a fifteen foot ceiling. Cement floor, steel roof. Spot remembers,

“When we got into the studio—the big live, cement room at Total Access -- I couldn't help think: ‘Now it's time to show BF how it's really done!’ The Vitus guys left me alone and didn't try to over-theorize anything. Aside from a few ambient miking tricks, it was a real straightforward setup. Armando's drum set looked tricky at first but was actually a piece of cake even with 4 tracks dedicated to the toms. No sonic surprises or nightmares. Only one overhead mic, and I refused to pull the front heads off the bass drums. One of my favorite recording sessions ever!”


Spot’s referring to the fact that Greg and Chuck seemed already, even early in the “Damaged” tours to be thinking about their own slowage-to-come as it might apply to Spot’s end of things on the touring at hand and the studio work to come.

“Greg was seriously obsessed with the idea of the album sounding dark and sludgy -- i.e., anti-punk. In that regard, ‘My War’ was a dismal failure since none of the tracks or performances lent themselves to such treatment. Hell, Saint Vitus had been honing their sound for years! They had it down in their sleep!” (Spot, Dec. 4, 2010)



As I understand it Dave Chandler, Mark Adams and Armando Acosta got together as Tyrant in 1979 with Dave singing until Scott Reagers joined and they changed the name to Saint Vitus after one of their songs. They appeared they might be Satanists but their crosses were right-side up; they were actually Christians leavened by some high school drugging, thereafter they mostly just drank beer in my experience. Their first fans were from the lowest circle of Narbonne High in Harbor City. I heard one of them say that a guitar tone whirring across the top of one of their songs reminded him of doing cannabinol and Dave and Mark started nodding and laughing.

According to the obituary placed by the Acosta family Armando grew up in West L.A., went to Venice High, enlisted in the Air Force and was an Airman First Class. If I recall he then had a short career as a cop before doing freelance security for Don Dokken and others whom folks might wish to lay hands on. He kept in touch with Dokken and Don even produced one of their later albums (“C.O.D.” -- 1993). Armando moved to San Pedro in the late seventies and joined Tyrant; the others lived in Lomita.

As soon as we came out of the studio with the basic tracks, all done live that night, Spot made some cassettes so Black Flag on tour was listening to it, I was at SST, and Bill Stevenson was getting into it too. The Descendents were into fast playing so it really made a double-take impression there. Bill came around SST a lot as he was getting their first album out and for him it was the song “Zombie Hunger” running through his head. He’d be air-drumming as he came into SST sounding out “bom, bom, bom-bom-bom… chicka-blam, chicka-blam”. Those long slow songs really were open to what Armando could do with all those drums. Of course he didn’t use all of them to create the principal slow-mo syncopation set-ups that fascinated Bill. But there’d be a use for each of them down the line of albums. The longest, slowest song they did that first session, “The Walking Dead”, isn’t on the LP but was put out on 12” EP in the UK, its twelve minute crawl-haul occasionally peals the arrangement back to just the drums and one gets an amazing audio portrait of Armando trudging along alone in that big space, the drums slapping back in a room-acoustic counter-syncopation. (youtube sound is especially inadequate with Saint Vitus so I won’t overload you with links.)

It took us almost a full year before we were able to spend another two hundred bucks to mix the album. We got it released some time in early 1984. It wasn’t the first album that I’d been in the studio for but it’s the first one I had some input on, plus I worked out artwork with David Chandler and Naomi Petersen. She was just becoming our go-to girl for photographs and she really clicked with them. I thought she might be disappointed to begin work on them since no-one knew who they were and they weren’t punk-looking to say the least. But they were goth in their way, and she liked them and loved having a reason to do some graveyard shoots.

I’m probably over-emphasizing how many slow songs they did. The double-kicks got plenty of work-out, most notably in “White Stallions” off the second album, “Hallow’s Victim”, which also features “War Is Our Destiny”, another barn-burner (There’s a nice performance lip-sync music video of this song that we made that got so little response it hasn’t found its way onto youtube). This second album was recorded right off of their first real tour, opening for Black Flag from the east coast and across Canada in winter. (Here’s a clip from that tour.) I talked to them about rotating a few of the new songs into each gig on the tour so that they’d really have them down when they got back. We went straight into Total Access, the main room this time, and it was the sharpest they ever played in the studio. Even a strenuous practice regimen, never their style, is no match for recording right off a tour, only most bands don’t play new songs live before they are out on record and so the recorded history of rock and roll suffers. Not that album.

Scott Reagers left the band when the touring was too much for his girlfriend. I thought the band’d never find a decent replacement. You should’ve seen who replaced Merrill in Overkill; there just weren’t a lot of choices. But they’d talked to this guy in D.C. on their tour, also named Scott but better known as Wino, and he’d given them a cassette of his band, The Obsessed. Wino came out and we began to prep “Born Too Late”. I remember being surprised when Dave promised that this was going to be their metal album. I thought, Oh I see, “Hallow’s Victim”, was a punk album in the world of Vitus. Wino fit in great, of course, and for a lot of people “Born Too Late” is the quintessential Saint Vitus album. It is slower and perhaps a tad heavier at its best, and Wino’s voice is lower and more naturalistic in approach. Spot had moved to Austin so we had Mike Lardie engineer at Total Access -- he slipped some noise-gates past me which now I hear quite clearly.

The next album, “Mournful Cries”, is another favorite of mine. I stayed at Dave’s while I was out in March 1988 and found out how much he likes watching “Green Acres” reruns. He lived in the front house of a duplex owned by Mark’s parents who lived in the back. We ate back there and the Adamses were like working class Ginns, really nice folks and the place crammed with flea market tchochkes. The band practiced in a shed behind a crack-house in Torrance and they worried they might get their amps impounded or stolen before the studio date came. Whereas for the first album the band could only conceive of playing the tune in its live arrangement, by now they practiced rhythm arrangements for the studio so we could lay down a consistent sound-bed and more carefully set a sound for the solo and overdub it. We were getting real pro by our lights, but you could tell the Music Grinder Studio folks up on Melrose had never had any other band come in and pound out an album’s tracking and mixing in four straight twelve hour days. On “Mournful Cries” Wino plays second guitar on some tunes which worked out great; he’s got the best rhythm sense of any guitarist I’ve heard, something elastic akin to John Bonham’s drum-feel. Listening to these great Saint Vitus slabs of sound in these studios was better than any live P.A. or LP or CD playback could possibly be. For the song, “Shooting Gallery”, we were going to have a fade-out so I was to signal them when to stop playing the final descending pattern, only I forgot as I was just listening to them play it -- totally zoned out until they filled the two-inch reel of tape with it! They came out of their room laughing at me. One Armando-supremo touch is in the last song on that album, “Looking Glass”. Somehow I hadn’t picked out what he was doing in practice but suddenly under the solo he just went supernova on the cymbals hitting down deliberately with both sticks through two overlapping cymbals on both levels creating an elongated, particularly destructive-sounding bash as Wino (I think) bends and shreiks his melodic climax. Dave had a surprise of his own, springing those little scratchings on his strings after the riff strikes. Amazing first take.

They were getting somewhere too. I remember Flipside’s review of the first album where Al just couldn’t understand the point of the record, but there was a nice feature with photos on the band in a late 80s issue. They won some respect for doing their thing from the beginning and the world was beginning to go their way. There was a funny cartoon ad for somebody in Forced Exposure that pictured a walking cliché of a long-haired flannel-wearing Seattle rockhound depicted slack-jawed and carrying a Saint Vitus album in one hand and a Soundgarden album in the other.

Some time after “Mournful Cries” was released Dave called me in Chicago and told me he couldn’t get Greg on the phone and they had this offer to go to Germany to do an album and tour. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea so we talked it through and since he figured Greg was less interested in them now they went for it. After they signed to do the album “V” for Hellhound in Berlin in late 1989, then Greg called….

It’s another great record and they’ve done more, most notably “Die Healing” with Scott Reagers back after Wino left to reform The Obsessed. A particularly… I want to say witty, performance on that album is "In the Asylum”, certainly its hard to compare what Scott and Armando are doing here with anything anyone else has ever done -- it’s comic-doom that bears relation to some of the Ramones’ great mental tunes only with completely different sound dynamics.

With all the activity in Europe Armando often played on rented drums. Here’s a lip-synch music video for the song “Fear” from 1992 with Christian Lindersson on vocals; you can actually see Armando over the top of his small rented kit!

I think of all the early SST bands Saint Vitus probably got along the best. It’s Dave’s vision you’d have to say but he pretty much grew up with Mark and Scott, and then Armando was such an easy going guy, it explained how they could make this long tortoise run. They didn’t practice daily like Black Flag did so they didn’t get on each others nerves. Wino has a vision as well and so his relationship with Dave has had its ups and downs but I was glad to see them back together to play these European dates recently. They even did a rare Los Angeles gig a couple years ago where they got something like respect from Hollywood and all. They never really “made it”, they just concentrated on the writing and playing of album after album of inspired music.

Given all that it was a surprise to hear from Dave that he’d replaced Armando after some 2009 shows in Europe. In what is probably a January 2009 (rather than 2010 as its labeled) performance in San Francisco of “Look Behind You” which Dave introduces as the band’s first song, Armando is wailing pretty solid though he could slur on some of the faster rolls as he does here. Apparently Armando’s health had been deteriorating and it was affecting his playing. In a backstage video on youtube he looks a little thin and he shows some large swelling on his lower throat. According to the band’s statement his last show with Saint Vitus was April 29, 2009 in Stuttgart. Armando got angry -- something hard to picture -- but he felt well enough to complain about his treatment online. He obviously loved being in Saint Vitus, whatever little it got any of them in the greater scheme of the Rock and Roll Industry. They did love it and these back-end gigs were certainly great proud fun for them all. That summer they were apparently slotted just before Mötley Crüe at Roadburn Festival in Holland. They’ve announced they’ll record another album soon with Wino on vocals. It’ll be another great album, but I expect it’ll sound strange to my ears with no Armando churning down in the music’s engine-room. He passed early Thanksgiving day, November 25 at Providence Little Company of Mary Medical Center in San Pedro.


Now that I can’t see him play drums again it occurs to me that I haven’t seen them play live since a gig at Raji’s in Hollywood with D.C.3 and Across the River in late 1985. Time flies you find whether you’re having fun or not. When I was working on my Naomi/SST book I got back in touch with a number of people. Also caught up on my L.A. punk lit which included Brendan Mullen’s books. I’d known him slightly from the old days but hadn’t been in LA, or in the music scene anyway, in his Masque heyday, but I was aware of his documenting those days with his writing. We got together at his place and he showed me his archive of stills and flyers; he also showed me his coachhouse studio with his records and drum kit and DJ’ing turntables. He was very interested in finding out about the various nooks and crannies he’d overlooked in his books about the massive sprawling Los Angeles music scene of that era and I got the idea he might do an addendum to We Got the Neutron Bomb. I wouldn’t have guessed Brendan wasn’t long for this world either, he was still so enthusiastic about music and life. I made him some cassettes of LAFMS stuff, Secret Hate, Across the River and other stuff, but it was the first Saint Vitus album that blew his mind; he’d never heard it before:

“Freaked out... sounds so great on these bitchin' new speakers I just got for my dj'ing .... another fucking great track to obsess over .. when I freak out over a song or a track ... it's like adrenaline... inspires my ass to keep on keepin' on. SV (the song) so rocks like that... Also crazy for that sound you guys got especially the drums and bass... that warm, booming bassy breathing sound which pans out superswell on the new speaks which have MONSTER depth. Wait till you hear it, maybe you'll flip, too... How do you get that drum sound.. haha? Wouldn’t I just love to know the secret recipe.. haha.” (Brendan Mullen, email, June 1, 2006)


It was a pleasure to turn him onto it all those years later.

Saint Vitus for some were the most important band on SST Records; its amazing how many different languages a google search for Armando's death brings up. For others they’re just a name of something they’re sure they’d hate. To my mind it’s the quality of the overlooked bands of the South Bay area of Los Angeles back then like Saint Vitus, Saccharine Trust, Overkill, Slovenly, Secret Hate… that really tell the tale. It occurred to me when Ray Farrell wrote me about how he remembered responding to the early SST releases I sent up to him in attempting to get him down to SST. He was still up in Berkeley very involved in that music world and he referred to the SST bands as “neighborhood bands”, which made me think that that might be the secret, maybe only in the south bay did rock music continue to be a folk music like rock and roll had been for the sixties garage bands and the rockabilly bands of the fifties. Ray closed, “I used to wonder if St.Vitus was taken seriously enough amongst a stable of groundbreaking music associated with punk. They were the real thing. I'm serious about their legacy... I hope Dave keeps it going.” I’m sure Armando does too.


[Images: crop from a test for “Hallow’s Victim” cover, by Naomi Petersen; Saint Vitus with Naomi Petersen, D.C. area 1992; Saint Vitus 1983, taken by Naomi Petersen]














“St. Vitus, don’t bite us!”
By Ray Farrell





When I first started with SST ’85, I was in a phase where I wanted to knock down some brews in the kind of bars that Bukowski would hang in. The “old man” bars. I met the Vitus boys in my second week on the job and they took me to their favorite tavern, Zeb’s Thirsty Club in Redondo Beach. Oversize neon sign from the 40’s or 50’s out front but it no longer lit. Bet you could’ve seen that sign from the 405 freeway back in the day. And the message is simple. You thirsty? Join the club.

It was a bar for the locals and pretty lively. I saw a little guy get slapped around by a woman twice his size. Anyway, we talked about metal before the genre was coined -- Sabbath, Steppenwolf, Mountain, Budgie, they even knew the records of Sir Lord Baltimore. Teaching myself bass, those records were a blast to play to. I think we drilled down to a couple of choice BTO, Sugarloaf and Skynyrd songs too. This was a good hang.

Fast forward to 1987 or 88. We had a few bands playing the CMJ convention in NYC, including Saint Vitus and Das Damen. I shared a hotel room with Spaceman of SST. He had the brilliant idea to push the beds up sideways against the walls and host an afternoon party with Das Damen playing in the room. He pulled it off and I was amazed how long it took security to shut us down. When they did, it was like a swat team swoop. Damen had to get their gear out under security’s watch and then we were told to leave. The locks were changed and we were told that a thorough inspection for damage, theft, drugs etc. was next. After which, we’d get a bill. We didn’t know if we would get back in but we also knew that nothing was damaged.

I had told Saint Vitus that they could crash at our room when they hit town. Some hours later, I’m walking to the subway near Port Authority and 42nd St which at the time was pretty rank but crowded. It was a brisk late October night. I see all four Vitus guys huddled together sitting on the sidewalk against a liquor store, passing a bottle. It was “Thirsty & Miserable” personified! Zebulon’s Thirsty Club comes to the Big Apple! What are the chances of stumbling on them in NYC like this? I told them about the hotel situation but to hold on and we would have it straightened out in an hour or two. We hail two cabs and head down to King Tuts Wah-Wah Hut or some east Village gin mill. Within a few hours Vitus had found friends to crash with.

Saint Vitus definitely left their mark and I’ll bet it ain’t done yet. Listening to almost any disc on the Southern Lord or Small Stone labels will impart roots in Saint Vitus. Armando reached Kingdom Come!




















Love In The Time Of Sacrifice
(Or, Spoiler Alert: The Sheep Gets It!)


By Carolyn Heinze









After that, I ate vegetarian for a whole week.

Having been forced to spend four long, endless, never-ending ceaseless years in grainy, granola-y, organically-grown Vancouver, I’d sworn I’d never, ever, plus jamais, ever eat vegetarian again. Never. Plus jamais. Again.

It was the sheep’s fault. Well it only kinda was, but not really, though kinda indirectly. If it hadn’t have been for the sheep, I would have been savoring savory souris d’agneau pendant toute la flavorful-savorful semaine. But after the whole slitting-its-throat bit? Pas possible. Pas possible du tout.

Because: While watching someone slit a sheep’s throat isn’t so supremely surprising per se, watching them slit a sheep’s throat while listening to them lament about love is kinda just a bit too much. O.K. sure, all right, fine…while they were actually doing the slitting they were doing some praying, actually. (As, we can imagine, the sheep was, too.) But right after? When they hung it inside-out and upside-down to drain the brains and blood and guts and stuff? Gossip-gossip-gossip, girls-girls-girls, grumble-grumble-grumble, gab-gab-gab. And the shit they were saying! I’ve never had a Kurdish lover of my own, so I can’t really say how Kurdish men really are, really. And, of course, when you really think about it, it’s not right and fair and PC and just to judge all Kurdish men based on the behavior of some Kurdish men, but . . . The shit they were saying! Not to be unfair and unjust and un-PC or un-anything or anything –but it was like – c’est quoi, l’expression ? – it was like the blind leading the blind. Or the sheep following the sheep. Straight to the sacrificial slaughterhouse.

But blind Kurdishlover is not, nor is the actual Kurdish lover around which the actual documentary is based, nor is the documentary’s director, Clarisse Hahn. Hahn actually believes in spending time with her subjects – months and weeks and even days and even years. So it’s her subjects that grow blind – to her and to her camera – while her audience gets to see a whole helluva lot. It’s kinda like “Striptease” – you know, that Belgian show? The one where they follow real people around? The one with the famous episode where the old lady talks to her dead (stuffed) dog? (Think he died of old age – not a slit throat.) Kurdishlover features a few old ladies, too, though none of them talk to dead (stuffed) dogs. Or dead (stuffed) sheep. They do yell at one another quite a lot, though, and you gotta hand it to them for their command of insults. I’d never before heard so many suggestions on what one might do with a donkey’s own penis and one’s own ass! Whew!! Oww!!! Oyyy!!!! Eeeee!!!!! (And if you’re waiting for an ass joke, don’t bother – there are positively so many possible possibilities that I’m possibly positively spent.) Heeeee-haaawwwww!!!!!!

En gros, in the big picture, big time, on the big screen, Kurdishlover is about a bunch of people who get on each other’s nerves. (I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are quite a lot of documentaries like that.) (I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but mainly-mostly all documentaries are like that.) (This is because people are mostly irritating, don’t you mainly think?) But wait! There’s more. You know moi – there always is.

Clarisse Hahn is pretty and pale and blonde to boot, and a tough nut to crack, too. (You know, in that pale/pretty/blonde/tough-nut-to-crack French girl kind of way.) She doesn’t offer up much, but her eyes challenge you to just try to pry, and once you’re done not really successfully prying and feeling all awkward and weird and slightly silly and slightly even more incompetent about it, you tell yourself (to make yourself feel better) that maybe she’s just plain shy. Which I honestly highly doubt, because the way she wields a camera requires a startling set of super-sized, super-charged, super-female-powered balls. It’s pretty – French accent obligatoire – super.

Kurdishlover – as I understand it from the trying and prying that I managed to do – kinda happened by accident, from an apartment window near the center of Paris. Outside, a bunch of guys were yelling and jumping around. Many of them weren’t wearing shirts. What’s a girl with a camera to do? Well, fellas, if it were the other way around, what would YOU do? Hahn grabbed her gear and started filming. (Dontcha just love the instantaneous inspiration involved in the inspired instantaneous creation of art?)

Once she discovered and discerned that the dudes without duds had nothing to do with Gay Pride (not enough glitter), Hahn discerned and discovered that it was a demonstration. A Kurdish one. You know, a Kurdish one boasting a lot of shirtless-dudless Kurdish dudes. Hahn got interested – there might be a story in this. (The whole shirtless-Kurdish-expats-in-Paris-plus-home country-at-war being a good hook.) But to hook her hook Hahn needed a hook-up in Paris’s Kurdish community. So she hooked up – professionally, and then romantically – with Oktay.

Here’s what I can tell you about Oktay Sengul: He has dark eyes that dance with curiosity and mischief. He speaks about 18,000 languages…or at least five or three or four. He sometimes goes shirtless – I know, because I danced with him that way once (he sans shirt, moi with), years ago, at a wedding. (I kinda got in la merde for it.) (But not by the groom or bride.) (Some wedding guests that leave early to rush home to pay the babysitter, but not before playing babysitter by imposing their boring banlieue-inspired beliefs can be so, well, boring, n’est-ce pas ?) Anyway, Oktay – also a filmmaker – is French, of Kurdish descent. Parents moved here in the Seventies: his dad in 1973, his mother in 1976. His brother was born There, but mostly lives Here. And there, in a little village in the big Kurdish mountains, there is a grandmother and cousins and neighbors and enemies and pagans and shepherds and shamans and sexually-frustrated hermits and visitors and friends.

“I choose to focus not on the moments of tension and acceleration, but on the banalities of daily life,” Hahn says of her work. But “banal” can be a subjective concept. Like, for instance, just how many sexually-frustrated hermits do you know? Me, I’ve never sacrificed a sheep . . . et vous ? (For those of you waiting for the ol’ “Did ya hear the one about the hermit and the sheep…” joke: get your damn minds out of the gutter.) Has anyone ever forbidden you to learn how to read, in case you get too free-spirited, too freethinking, too freewheeling, too fou/folle ? When was the last time you partied with the pagans? And the last time you proposed marriage to a woman, did you think to invite your mom?

Maybe I’m just sheltered.

En vérité, Hahn admits that her original plan was, in part, to explore the tensions in a tense war-torn country. But when you’re dealing with people who are actually torn and tense, and who would be even more torn and tense if they tried to express a political conviction . . . Well, just try to pry. “It’s a country at war, but (in the film) you don’t see a lot of that,” she says. The result is much more interesting, sans intellectual masturbation, full of unforced humor that’s all wry and winking and wit, and – on the part of Hahn’s Kurdish lover/collaborator – a willing vulnerabilité. (I mean really, would you want everyone to see how nuts your family is?)

Oktay may have Kurdish roots, ones that trace all the way back up to that tiny village in the gigantic mountains, but he’s a Westerner, a Parisian Westerner, with the hipster clothes and hipster hair and hipster social calendar to prove it. His is a life of vernissages and screenings and shared household duties and, as far as I know, very little sacrificing of sheep. Back at the farm, it’s gotta feel un petit peu schizophrenic. Here in Paris – among the Kurdish that have never really gotten or wanted to get the hang of getting Westernized – it’s gotta be weird as well. At least sometimes. The guy who brought his mom along, all the way up to the Kurdish mountains, where he was going to propose marriage? (Not to his mom; to another girl.) That was Oktay’s brother, the one who’s just a few years older, the one who was born in Kurdistan, but who – mainly, mostly – lives here. Doesn’t want a Western girl – can’t comprehend why someone would. Reaallllly doesn’t get why some Western women don’t think that men should be waited on, hand and foot, foot and hand. Makes one wonder how it plays out at dinner parties chez les Hahn/Sengul, when Oktay pours Clarisse another drink before retreating to the kitchen to do the dishes. (Oh, and just so you know, at the big, bring-your-own-mom marriage proposal party? Remind me: What’s Kurdish for “no?”)

Kurdishlover is Hahn’s fifth film. Her next project? It’s called BOYZONE, and I can’t wait! It’s about boys and men and men and boys, and more importantly, boys and men and their bodies. She’s been working on it for years, has already made a series of video series . . . but I’m waiting for the big, long, hard, extended one. Images of naked Nureyev knock-offs are already stretching and leaping and bending over and pirouetting through my head! Sauté ! Plié ! Relevé !! WEEEE!!!

I just have one weeny-teeny-tiny-deflating worry: If Hahn is so interested in les banalités, does that mean there’ll be no Nureyev knock-offs and just a lot of sag instead?



















Poicephalus Rueppellil by James Fotopoulos


















From the Desk of Joe Carducci…


“What was most heartening about that campaign was the respectful and extensive coverage my ideas received in the mainstream media.”

- Pat Buchanan, A Republic, Not an Empire, 1999

Sounds like a real scientific breakthrough subbing cyanide for phosphorous in that microbial life form the other day. But we’ve long known that man can subsist on his own bile because we subscribe to the New Yorker. John Cassidy’s piece, "Enter the Dragon - Why “state capitalism” is China’s biggest knockoff", is a classic of the form. It ties itself neatly in an ouroboros and leaves hardly even a stain. His labors thru the history of Western dirigisme as if it undercuts complaints about current Chinese industrial and trade policies, as if that were the very engine of growth here then or there now. That’s like claiming our fumbles won the game for us; might as well credit slavery with getting us to the moon.

He intimates by the construction of a defense for China’s behavior that he might agree to dirigisme would Americans only elect the right experts and leave them alone. Purely in terms of ideas this is all Pat Buchanan. The Democrats have been reverse-engineering his old campaign platforms because he’s the one writer focused on the American working class which Buchanan’s writing colleagues in the shirking class only pretend is their Job No. 1. There used to be moments on the old CNN program “Capitol Gang” when Bob Novak and Pat Buchanan together held the floor and yet covered the entire spectrum of what ought to be the public debate if the Democrats possessed a love that could dare speak its name. Al Hunt and Mark Shields and whoever else on the panel would just watch for a moment as Novak and Buchanan argued.

The debate is all on the right, and it's between and among Country Club Republicans, working class conservatives, and white collar libertarians, with a few gun-toting premature anti-fascists for good measure. Novak was the free market purist and he did quite well describing the roundabout punishments the market would exact when in those years Japanese industrial policy -- dirigisme -- would get impatient Pat’s juices flowing. Novak was right about Japan, but Buchanan was right as well in that no government can truly be non-responsive to the pains of economic dislocation that people might suffer waiting for such comeuppance. Our problems are less intense due to our higher tolerance for dislocation. It’s always been easier to move around this country and reshuffle your fate. Perhaps Cassidy mentioned Buchanan but his editors knew to scrub that name out. His book, A Republic, Not an Empire ought be where the Left proceeds from -- they could learn once again to love the working class and even certain American traditions like constitutional government. Buchanan ought be an American Carl Schmitt (whose influence on the European Left is touched on below). Molly Ivins rejected this unconsciously by sending it up when she noted that Pat’s “Culture War” speech at the 1992 convention sounded better in the original German.

As regards the New Yorker's automatic projected plagiarism, I refuse to cancel my subscription; they aren’t getting off that easily.


***


Gerald O’Driscoll in the WSJ, "Why Do We Have a Central Bank?"

“Policy makers are debating the wisdom of the Fed's dual mandate of providing price stability and full employment. Rep. Mike Pence (R., Ind.) has introduced a bill to amend the Federal Reserve Act to end the dual mandate and give the Fed one goal: maintaining price stability (H.R. 6406). The dual mandate is seen by many as giving the Fed an impossible assignment of simultaneously optimizing two variables with one policy tool. It is also not clear that a central bank is capable of maintaining full employment.

Yet maintaining stable prices was not part of the Fed's original mandate and, aside from some economists, few thought it the Fed's job. The gold standard provided for stable prices over time, and the Fed's job was to maintain that standard (which does not require a central bank).”



***


Jeremy Page in the WSJ, "China Clones, Sells Russian Fighters".

“Not only have Chinese engineers cloned the prized Su-27’s avionics and radar but they are fitting it with the last piece in the technological puzzle, a Chinese jet engine. In the past two years, Beijing hasn’t placed a major order from Moscow. Now China is starting to export much of the weaponry, undercutting Russia in the developing world…. This epochal turnaround was palpable in the Russian pavilion at November’s Airshow China in the southern city of Zhuhai. Russia used to be the star of this show…. This year, it didn‘t bring a single real aircraft -- only a handful of plastic miniatures, tended by a few dozen bored sales staff.”



***


WSJ: "Ethanol on the Run".

“A left-right coalition is emerging to end ethanol subsidies…. Conservatives like Tom Coburn dislike this costly industrial policy, while liberals like Barbara Boxer and Sheldon Whitehouse are turning against the hefty carbon emissions that come with corn fuels…. The ethanol industry is responding by predicting disaster if it loses its taxpayer feeding tubes, with the Renewable Fuels Association evoking massive job losses and another Dust Bowl. But what kind of business can‘t survive without subsidies when government also mandates that consumers buy its products? As the Senators dryly noted, ‘Historically our government has helped a product compete in one of three ways: subsidize it, protect it from competition, or require its use. We understand that ethanol may be the only product receiving all three forms of support from the U.S. government at this time.”



***


Gordon Crovitz in his column in the WSJ looks at "Julian Assange, Information Anarchist" and finds an interesting paper trail. My favorite phrase is his channeling Al Pacino in Godfather II:

“Mr. Assange is misunderstood in the media and among digirati as an advocate of transparency. Instead, this battening down the information hatches by the U.S. is precisely his goal…. In 2006, Mr. Assange wrote a pair of essays, ‘State and Terrorist Conspiracies’ and ‘Conspiracy as Governance.’ He sees the U.S. as an authoritarian conspiracy.’ To radically shift regime behavior we must think clearly and boldly for if we have learned anything, it is that regimes do not want to be changed,’ he writes. His central plan is that leaks will restrict the flow of information among officials -- ‘conspirators’ in his view -- making government less effective.”



***


Brian Walsby on a Glen Friedman photo of Black Flag.


***


John Jurgensen in the WSJ with his "When to Leave the Stage", calls to mind that dopey Village Voice review of one of the more recent Sonic Youth albums where the girl-critic called on them to break up because they looked older and weren’t riding the crest of her personal zeitgeist anymore. The Pop moment is for fans, largely a media audience since the twenties. That’s fine for people who aren’t music writers. But what’s a music writer’s excuse for such lazy thinking, Pop theory? Are they still in high school, using bands as badges to show fantasy enemies what’s what? Jurgensen is writing about Bob Dylan and I’d say Dylan, like Sonic Youth, wasn’t actually at his musical best in his Pop moment as zeitgeist skyrocket or silver salute as the case may be. It’s fine, the not-so-critical mass took what they needed when it was offered at whatever point in the artist’s development. Sonic Youth is a far better band since “Washing Machine” than when they made their legend over whatever that all was back in the day of early indie platinum of you-guessed-it late capitalism. Dylan is a solo artist who never lets his hireling bands get comfortable. That works sometimes, other times doesn’t and that may be part of what’s come back to bite him and not the Rolling Stones. But live? Live is what Jurgensen purports to be evaluating and yet none of the bands’ lineups or members are mentioned, compared, named…. His point may be: Bob you’re embarrassing me, you should retire like Bobby Sherman (pictured) did. Well Bobby’s fans had the good sense to move on; they weren’t pretentious about it. Bob is calling you on your pretense and it’s you who are failing and perhaps your question should go to you no matter your chronological age. (Knowing nothing about Bobological studies I might suggest this all may stem from Dylan playing in venues a step too large for what he’s doing on stage. And while I’m between these parentheses allow me to interject that if Robin Trower releases a masterpiece in the 21st century and no music writer hears it, he still has, woe is us, released a masterpiece.)


***


Michael Cieply in the NYT with his "Coen Brothers Saddle Up a Revenge Story (or Two)" lets the Academy Award-winning Coenizer claim they never saw the original True Grit (1969) by Henry Hathaway as if he was someone safely ignored. Go look at his filmography, Michael, and compare it to the Bros. The piece labors to refight the sixties when we could pretend John Wayne and Richard Nixon were laughable, yet dangerous, because they didn’t listen to Firesign Theatre albums, yet voted for Hitler in their youth. I’m sure Jeff Bridges will be good in this and knows where his lunch was prepared.


***


According to NBC-Bay Area "George Lucas Wants to Resuscitate Dead Actors With Computers" to make new films. George, first things first, you're going to have to resuscitate some dead filmmakers so the dead actors are in something worth seeing.


***


The Darkening Trail 1915 (William S. Hart/ WSH, Enid Markey)
Oil and Water 1913 (D.W. Griffith/Blanche Sweet, Henry Walthall, Harry Carey)

American Cinematheque
•Sat. Dec. 11, 7:30pm
Egyptian Theater, 6712 Hollywood Blvd, Hollywood, Cal.


***


Harry Chotiner at tnr.com, on Tino Balio’s book, The Foreign Film Renaissance on American Screens, 1946-1973.

“In the first year after the war, over six hundred American films played on European screens. Initially this worked well for American studios and foreign audiences and the income from overseas sales proved significant. But a backlash was inevitable and swift. Italy and France took the lead, demanding that the United States limit the number of films exported to their countries, the number of screens on which they could be played, and the amount of profit that could be extracted from those countries. For reasons of culture and capital, the Italians and the French quickly re-established their own film industries, and then began to penetrate the American market.

D-Day for the European invasion came in 1946, with Roberto Rossellini’s Open City. A powerful drama about the Italian resistance, featuring both gifted professionals such as Anna Magnini and untrained actors, it shattered audiences with its authenticity and its tragic ending. To everyone’s surprise, it played at the World Theatre in New York for twenty-one months…. For all of the talk of foreign films in Life magazine and their appearance at assorted film festivals, the movement was overwhelmingly a New York phenomenon. Of those 450 art houses in 1960, a third were in New York, and they accounted for over 60 percent of all ticket sales to foreign movies.”



***


Michael Dirda in the Times Literary Supplement on the American Library collection of H.L. Mencken’s Prejudices.

“What Mencken particularly loathes is the American tendency to ‘a highly self- conscious and insipid correctness, a bloodless respectability, a submergence of matter in manner’. Little wonder that he assailed those who would ban Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie and James Branch Cabell’s mildly lubricious comic fantasy Jurgen. Great American fiction, Mencken contended, in what might almost be the prescription for a mid-career Saul Bellow novel, should embrace ‘the whole, gross, glittering, excessively dynamic, infinitely grotesque, incredibly stupendous drama of American life’. Certainly young people in the 1920s found Mencken liberating. He repeatedly denounced and satirized Prohibition, religious mania, the duplicity of politicians, any appearance of the bogus and self-serving, and every sort of do-goodism. He argued for the rights of the people he called ‘Aframericans’. Yet he also detested jazz, couldn’t perceive any artistic merit in film – though he did once interview a weary-hearted Rudolph Valentino – and he greatly disliked seeing couples wriggling ‘to the tune of some villainous mazurka from the Mississippi levees’. ”



***


Ron Santo photo essay in the CT, "A Life in Baseball".


***


Spencer Ante & Amy Schatz in the WSJ, "Web-Traffic Spat Over Netflix Highlights New Tensions".

“The dispute plays out in a cyber area that regulators have generally left alone. Few consumers, meanwhile, are aware of just how many companies are involved in the Internet's continuous, multidirectional relay race. Clicking on the ‘Watch Instantly’ button on Netflix sets off a chain of events that ultimately involves several Internet middlemen. They include ‘content delivery networks’ that handle the technology and relationships needed to distribute video online and backbone companies that own the fiber-optic highways used to move traffic among networks.

Companies that handle Internet traffic have long struck ‘peering’ arrangements, in which they agree to carry each other's traffic, typically at no cost. If one carrier transmits more traffic than the two sides agreed upon, that carrier sometimes pays another to offset the imbalance. Such payments rarely happen because the traffic rarely stays out of whack for a long time. But as video has become a significant source of traffic, those peering deals are coming under increasing stress. A video stream takes up vastly more space on the Internet than sending email or surfing the Web.”



***


Andy Kessler in the WSJ, "Time to Shut Down the FCC".

“Besides the obvious question of whether the FCC even has the authority to regulate the Web—in April, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit said it doesn't—the agency has a long history of restraining trade. Founded in 1934 partly to regulate radio spectrum (which in reality hasn't ever been scarce), the FCC delayed FM radio by favoring AM and television in spectrum allocation, mandated a TV network oligopoly by restricting station ownership, and kept long-distance rates too high for decades by forcing operators to subsidize local telephone costs. Now, because of bad bandwidth policy, it limits what smart phones can really do.”



***


Ianthe Dugan in the WSJ, "In California, a Road to Recovery Stirs Unrest".

“The union, which represents 9,000 public workers, brought the suit in State Superior Court in November claiming that state and county transportation agencies are ‘illegally proceeding with a public-private partnership.’ The suit is asking the court to force the state to put the project up for bid and stop work in the meantime. While the case awaits a hearing, construction is proceeding. ‘They are holding the project hostage,’ says Paul Meyer, executive director of the American Council of Engineering Companies of California, a trade group representing private engineers. ‘If a judge temporarily stops this project, it will be a disaster.’

Michael Likosky, a professor at New York University who is a specialist in public finance, says that the case holds ramifications for similar projects around the country. ‘Municipalities are rejiggering the way they handle construction of roads, bridges and other infrastructure—and this project is a watershed,’ he says. ‘If it is derailed, it could make it harder to put together these deals around the country.’”



***


Tiffany Hsu in the LAT, "Californians need water, but desalination projects are bogged down".

“More than 15,000 plants are churning out tens of billions of drinkable gallons daily in more than 100 countries. But desalination has been lagging in California, where water woes are especially dire, industry and government officials say. They blame the slow progress on a disorganized local industry, litigious environmentalists and a thorny approvals process. Connecticut-based developer Poseidon Resources has been trying to build a $650-million plant in Carlsbad, but the project has wallowed in red tape for more than a decade. It also has battled a dozen legal challenges.


The facility, which would sit beside the Encina Power Station, would churn out 50 million gallons of drinkable water a day — 10% of San Diego County's needs. The facility may start construction in March, executives said. But for now, as Poseidon tries to untangle the red tape, a small pilot project on the site is producing about 40,000 gallons of drinkable water.”





***


Cynthia O’Murchu & Stanley Pignal in the FT, "Net fails to catch €700 of errors".

“Suspected fraud cases are referred to Olaf, the EU’s anti-fraud body. Set up in 1999 after a string of corruption scandals caused the mass resignation of the European Commission. Olaf has faced near-incessant criticism since its inception, and is seen by some as the Achilles heel of the EU’s fight against fraud.”



***


George Parker & Nicholas Timmins’ analysis in the FT, "Breakneck Coalition" is a good illustration of how the Financial Times differs from the Wall Street Journal. It’s go-along get-along ethic doesn’t do much to suggest anything other than muddling through, as if there were no real crisis that some supposed competence couldn’t address with things even as they are. There is realism in simple acceptance that mankind’s institutions are what they are and can’t be undone or improved, but that precludes the kind of real world experimenting that Britain will now profit from, even if only in comparison to what is being tried elsewhere.

“‘This is far faster and far more radical than anything Margaret Thatcher attempted,’ says Colin Talbot, professor of public policy at Manchester Business School. He says the scale and pace of the reforms could lead to ‘a series of train wrecks‘. The amalgam of Tories and Lib Dems -- the first ‘blue-yellow‘ government since the 1930s -- has already spawned £81bn ($126bn) of spending cuts and programme to eliminate Britain’s deficit within four years, which has divided economists.”



***


Richard Milne in the FT, "In a monstrous grasp".

“‘The governments have created their own Frankenstein’s monster,’ says the New York-based Ed Yardeni. ‘If you run a big deficit, then you create your own monster in the form of the bond markets.’ Like the runaway creature of Mary Shelley‘s classic story, bond markets are on the seemingly relentless hunt for their next victim.”



***


Annamarie Cumiskey at euobserver.com, "EU-money to the mafia, the tobacco industry and multinationals?"

“The Italian mafia makes it look so easy, and that’s the problem it is. The Italian mafia, fortunately, is an extreme case of how EU funds are abused, but it shows how impotent the EU institutions are to stop this.”



***


Johannes Thumfart at signandsight.com, "Elitist revolutionary strutting".

“When ‘The Coming Insurrection’ (here in English) was published anonymously in France the state authorities came down hard on its presumed authors. Based on the theories of the Nazi jurist Carl Schmitt, the manifesto calls for political violence and fulminates against democracy and the rule of law…. The radical text initially attracted the attention of the middle-class press because of the central role it played in a legal scandal. It was the main reason why a commune in the French village of Tarnac was put under police surveillance in 2008. The group was suspected of having sabotaged TGV lines and several of its members spent several months in jail, among them the independent scholar Julien Coupat, the head of the collective. The allegations proved unfounded. And yet on 22 October 2010 a court of appeal overturned the request to suspend the inquiry, on the suspicion that the alleged authors of ‘The Coming Insurrection’ were likely to carry out terrorist attacks in the future.”



***


MercoPress.com: "Havana launches debate on neo-capitalism and ‘the future of the Cuban Nation.’"

“The sweeping neo-capitalist changes, which also would end the country's unusual dual-currency system and create new ways to buy and sell private property, were announced earlier this year and outlined in a 32-page document circulated among party leaders ahead of an all-important Communist Party Congress scheduled for April -- the first since 1997.

From December until the end of February, Cuban citizens are encouraged to weigh in on the proposals through party organizations, union meetings and neighborhood and workplace gatherings nationwide, according to an editorial published Wednesday in the state newspaper Granma. ‘Nobody should remain with an unexpressed opinion, much less be prevented from expressing it,’ the editorial read. ‘The Party demands the maximum transparency from all its organizations, the greatest clarity in analysis, the clarification of all doubts and anxieties we may have within the bosom of the Revolution.’

‘At stake is the future of the Cuban nation,’ Granma said.”



***


Dinny McMahon in the WSJ, "Shadow Lending Hampers Beijing".

“China's government has traditionally used its control of the largely state-owned banking sector to regulate the country's pace of economic growth, directing it to pump out cheap credit in good times and restricting the volume of new loans to prevent overheating. But controlling credit has become more difficult as the financial system gets more sophisticated, analysts say, complicating Beijing's efforts to bring the economy in for a smooth landing in coming months.”



***


Virginia Postrel in the WSJ, "Recovering China’s Past on Kenya’s Coast".

“For a resurgent China with often-controversial business ventures in Africa, Zheng's voyages epitomize what the 20th-century literary critic Van Wyck Brooks called a ‘usable past’—a historical tradition that serves present needs. Falling somewhere between history and myth, a usable past selects and emphasizes what is relevant and resonant for the present and omits the contradictory or distracting. It both shapes and communicates identity, whether national, ethnic, artistic, religious, institutional or personal.”



***


Ethan Gutmann in the Weekly Standard, "Saga of a Chinese Freedom Fighter".

“They were getting close now. During the day, they would practice on an abandoned hub pulled out of the junkyard. By night, they would scale poles in strange neighborhoods, always in pairs, with Big Truck, Lei, or Hou scrambling to understand the hub configuration while Great Sea, Liang, or Zhou distracted the neighborhood watch—the old women wearing red armbands. On the night of February 16, 2002, Liang received word that some television screens in the steel-town of Anshan, a five-hour drive southwest of Changchun, had briefly flickered, gone black, and been replaced with a Falun Gong spokesman clarifying the self-immolation. It was only on cable and it hadn’t lasted—a practitioner had been shot or a wire had short-circuited—but it could be done, and the police would know that too. The rehearsal schedule would have to be cut short; Liang designated the evening of March 5 as zero hour, following the kickoff of the National People's Congress, the Chinese state’s equivalent of Holy Week….

It took Chinese practitioners in the West—elite, highly educated, cool—to realize that Chinese television, and indeed propaganda and counterpropaganda, were mere foothills. The mountain had moved. With names like FreeGate, UltraSurf, and Dynaweb, small cells of practitioners, operating out of offices in northern California and living rooms in North Carolina, began the process of climbing over the great Chinese firewall and forging a permanent Internet connection to China from the West. In 2006, as it became clear that Falun Gong was no longer playing for stalemate, the North American systems administrator of Falun Gong was rolled into a carpet, beaten, and left bleeding in his suburban Atlanta home by Chinese hit men. That same year, practitioners formed the Global Internet Freedom Consortium. A few years later they posted an intro page written in Farsi and—well, you know the rest.”



***


Renaud Egreteau in Le Monde Diplomatique, "Burma’s gradual transition".

“The army is the only structure that seems to be truly organised, hierarchical and capable of intervening in all areas of political, economic and cultural life. It has dominated the Burmese state for over half a century. Its authority has not been challenged by any unified opposition, not even by Aung San Suu Kyi as leader of the National League for Democracy (NLD). Since independence in 1948, the decades of civil war, Burma’s unique geopolitical location between India and China, and the militaristic traditions inherited from the anti-colonial struggle and a fascination with imperial Japan have meant there are few competing institutions. So Burma’s present problem is not replacing a military dictatorship with a complete democracy, even one supported by Aung San Suu Kyi, but anticipating how the army’s dominance will evolve as it moves from ‘praetorian’ (direct and absolute) power to something less direct and slowly comes to terms with challenges to its omnipotence.”



***


Jagdish Bhagwati in the FT, "India’s reform and growth have lifted all boats".

“Such voices present India with a double challenge: they misrepresent the successful way growth has cut India‘s poverty, but more importantly their critiques stand in the way of a much needed new wave of reforms, which would further benefit India‘s poorest. The reform naysayers, among them the socialists in the ruling Congress party, reject the ‘miracle’ that may soon see India overtake China‘s rate of growth. Instead they argue that gains have accrued to the rich, while inequality has increased.”



***


Andrew Willis at euobserver.com, Gaddafi wants more money to prevent Europe becoming ‘black’.

“During an opening address to the leaders of 80 different nations, Mr Gaddafi demanded that ‘Christian, white’ Europe lend more financial support for his efforts to combat irregular emigration to Europe. Otherwise it risked becoming ‘black’, he said.”



***


Kristen Chick in the CSM reports on the elimination of the Muslim Brotherhood from parliament.

“That the regime would remove even the appearance of a democratic system by virtually eliminating the opposition from parliament signals that it is intent on securing all levers of power ahead of a possible presidential succession in the next parliament’s term. Speculation is rampant that the 82-year-old President Mubarak may seek to install his son as his successor, possibly in September 2011 presidential elections.”



***


Raymond Ibrahim at pajamasmedia.com, "Islamists targeting Christians wherever they can reach them".

“This phenomenon -- attacking one set of Christians, or non-Muslims in general, in response to another -- has roots in Islamic law. The Pact of Omar, a foundational text for Islam’s treatment of dhimmis (i.e., non-Muslims who refused to convert after their lands were seized by Islam) makes this clear. The consequences of breaking any of the debilitating and humiliating conditions Christians were made to accept in order to be granted a degree of surety by the Muslim state -- including things like giving up their seats to Muslims, as a show of ‘respect’ -- were stark: ‘If we in any way violate these undertakings for which we ourselves stand surety, we forfeit our covenant [dhimma], and we become liable to the penalties for contumacy and sedition [that is, they become viewed as ‘unprotected’ infidels, and thus exposed to the same treatment, including slavery, rape, and death.].’ Moreover, the actions of the individual affect the entire group -- hence the ‘hostage’ aspect (everyone is under threat to ensure that everyone behaves). As Mark Durie points out, ‘Even a breach by a single individual dhimmi could result in jihad being enacted against the whole community.’”



***




Dan Alexe at euobserver.com, "The influence of Sufi Islam in the Balkans".

“The majority of Albanians in Kosovo and Macedonia are Muslim, but a sizeable number of practising believers belong to Sufi brotherhoods. This is a contemplative brand of Islam based on collectives in which the members, called dervishes, practice mystical exercises through which they reach a communal trance.”



***


Roula Khalaf in the FT, "Trove reveals the depth of Arab obsession with Tehran".

“Perhaps the only revelation is that Saudi Arabia’s King Abdullah, who has an aversion to trouble in the region, should have joined in the clamour for bombing Tehran’s nuclear facilities…. Mahmoud Ahmadi-Nejad, the Iranian president, was not willing to reveal anger or disappointment on Monday. In keeping with the tradition of fake politics in the Middle East, he suggested in a press conference that the leaks were fabrications by the US government. ‘The regional countries and Iran are friends and brother,’ he insisted. ‘Such wickedness would have no influence on relations between nations.’”



***


Jonah Goldberg in the LAT, "Save the North Koreans!"

“The Hermit Kingdom's regime has kept images of concentration camps and mass starvation limited. The gulag archipelago of political prisons doesn't get much airtime, nor do the women forced into having abortions or, in some instances, compelled to deliver their babies only to watch them suffocated because they contain ‘impure’ Chinese blood. You see, the North Koreans contend they are the ‘master race’ and have strict eugenic laws against what they see as race-mixing. And yet, North Korea's plight is not news. It's been the status quo for two generations. Everyone knows that it is an anachronistic, totalitarian police state, and yet the spirit of ‘never again’ finds little purchase in the Western conscience. Indeed, with the exception of some heroic human rights organizations, such as the U.S. Committee for Human Rights in North Korea, the debate is defined almost entirely by what some call ‘realism.’”



***


James Glanz & John Markoff in the NYT, "Vast Hacking by a China Fearful of the Web".

“The May 18, 2009, cable, titled ‘Google China Paying Price for Resisting Censorship,’ quoted a well-placed source as saying that Li Changchun, a member of China’s top ruling body, the Politburo Standing Committee, and the country’s senior propaganda official, was taken aback to discover that he could conduct Chinese-language searches on Google’s main international Web site. When Mr. Li typed his name into the search engine at google.com, he found ‘results critical of him.’”



***


Mary Eberstadt in Policy Review on George Weigel’s book, The End and the Beginning: Pope John Paul II

“Intelligence reports to kgb headquarters, writes Weigel, suggest that between 1973 and 1974, Polish prosecutors three times considered arresting Wojtyla and charging him with sedition. Each time they opted instead for greater dedication in reining in his associates (including beating one particular priest). From stalking Wojtyla’s kayaking trips to persecuting or trying to compromise his closest associates, the Polish communists, despite bungling matters here and there, understood what the Soviet and East German communists would later. As one summarized in one Polish report, ‘Despite his seemingly conciliatory and flexible nature, Wojtyla is a very dangerous ideological opponent.’

This brings us to an important and often overlooked historical point. In the matter of knowing their enemies, as opposed to most others, the communists were generally right — and this is nowhere more obvious than in the case of John Paul II. While most Western intellectuals looked on the beginnings of Wojtyla’s papacy with bemusement, if indeed with any interest at all, communist kingpins from Moscow to Krakow to East Berlin saw something else: a mortal threat to the regimes they were defending and to the profound lies about human beings on which those regimes were built. By no coincidence Alexander Solzhenitsyn, by then in exile in Vermont, was almost alone in the West in grasping immediately the shattering historical significance of Wojtyla’s election. Upon hearing of it, he ‘threw out his arms,’ Weigel reports from an exclusive family interview, and exclaimed, ‘It’s a miracle! It’s the first positive event since World War I, and it’s going to change the face of the world!’”



***


Suzanne Daley & Raphael Minder in the NYT, "In Spain, Gypsies Find Easier Path to Integration".

“Here, more than 30 years of government programs to help Gypsies have begun to show signs of success. Virtually all young Gypsy children are in elementary school. Nearly half of their parents own their own homes. And like Ms. Jiménez, many are holding down mainstream jobs, moving away from more traditional Gypsy livelihoods like selling cattle and other goods. Spain has become so successful, in fact, that it now serves as a model for other European countries, including Romania, Bulgaria and Hungary. Some experts say Spain’s secret is that it has concentrated on practical issues, such as access to housing and jobs. In contrast, they say, some European institutions have concentrated too much on issues of prejudice and political rights.”



***


Archeological guide to old Detroit.


***


Sean Heavey’s Montana Supercell photo essay in the Daily Mail.


***


Obituary of the Week

Don Meredith 1938 - 2010.

Here’s a decent video rundown of his career and the Dallas Cowboys as they were in the early sixties and what coach Landry and his fellow Texans done to Don before the end of the decade. He was an actor too, mostly on TV which by the mid-seventies was at a nadir. Here’s what looks like a pilot for a Meredith series in a short-lived 1976 western starring Kurt Russell and Tim Matheson called, The Quest: “Shanklin”.


***


Thanks Chris Petersen, Spot, Mike Safran, Mike Vann Gray, Doug Sheppard.























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• The New Vulgate
• Joe Carducci, Chris Collins, James Fotopoulos, Mike Vann Gray, David Lightbourne
• Copyright retained by the writer, artist, or photographer

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Issue #59 (August 18, 2010)


Libby Flats, Snowy Range, Wyoming


Photo by Joe Carducci
















A new, smaller, Independent Distribution system for rock music was a necessity in the mid-seventies. In fact the reigning powers that were/are made us reinvent the rock label, the club circuit, and radio outlets, too. We weren't good enough to air, though the Ramones can now be heard all over MLB PA systems. And after we and others did it we now have to hear it called by the diminutive "indie", used as a flavor of college rock. If that's what it means then everything below is a lie.

(Joe Carducci)



















Rough Trade Records
by Steve Beeho




My first dealings with Rough Trade were in 1978. Sounds had run a brief piece about a Sex Pistols live bootleg which at that precise moment I craved more than any other record in the whole wide world. The local branch of Parrot Records was fine for satisfying my punk rock hunger but bootlegs were another matter. The piece hinted cryptically that copies could be found “at the usual places” but as a 15 year old I had no idea where “the usual places” were. Then I had a brainwave. Rough Trade was renowned as the hippest shop in England (and even distributed to Parrot) so if anybody had copies, they would. I rang them up and asked whether they stocked the “Indecent Exposure” album. The man who answered was understandably cagey.

“I couldn’t possibly say over the phone”. I was temporarily stumped...

“But if you did stock it, how much would it be?”
“Well if we did have it, it would be a fiver”.

£5 was duly dispatched with limited confidence but a week later "Indecent Exposure" turned up. That was it – I was hooked -- a regular mail-order customer, transfixed by Rough Trade’s ever-expanding catalogues of the obscure and the essential.

Those were heady times. Occasionally Nikki Sudden would fill in, dispatching the records with sniffy notes about Red Crayola and even the occasional Swell Maps freebie because “why not, sort of thing”. You don’t get this sort of service from Amazon. Via my loose involvement with a fanzine I magically ended up on an early (the first?) promo list, getting 7"s of The Pack, The Feelies, Monochrome Set, Last Words, etc., etc. Although I could appreciate the romantic principle behind this gesture, even at that age I recognised such largesse made no business sense whatsoever. And after about a year, so did they, it appeared, as the freebies dried up. Great records though.

A few years later when I’d moved to London I used to build up my flexitime at work so that I could take a long lunch and go to the actual shop every Friday. This involved dashing up Charing Cross Rd, tube-ing it from Tottenham Court Rd to Notting Hill Gate and then sprinting down Pembridge Rd/Portobello Rd, quickly “refuelling” at the Earl of Lonsdale, 15 mins max in the actual shop and then running back up the Portobello Rd and getting the tube back to work, returning shattered.

I once described this ritual to a former colleague who’s in his 20s, has never bought a record in his life and expects all music to be available for free at the click of a mouse. When I suggested that those days were actually infinitely more exciting than the modern era of over-abundance he just looked at me as if I was mad.

Looking back on it now, the punk/post-punk idealistic vision of the transformative power of “alternative” music can seem like a massive delusion, where being “oppositional” ended up as an end in itself. But even if that’s true, the belief that something crucial was at stake and it really mattered, was a necessary collective delusion to inspire all that feverish activity.

The story of how the Rough Trade shop blossomed into a distribution network and record label (in that order!) has now become enshrined in post-punk mythology. Its significance was acknowledged as early as 1979 in a 30 minute "South Bank Show" report while the more recent BBC4 documentary covered the whole saga more sweepingly. Neil Taylor has now built on that and produced a tremendous 380-page blockbuster oral-history of Rough Trade.

The book is very business-focused and generally takes the music pretty much as read. As the label’s output has been amply, not to say forensically, documented lately by Rob Young, and Simon Reynolds this is an astute move. Rough Trade co-founder Geoff Travis describes himself as being “between the cracks” in 1976 (i.e., neither punk nor hippie) but the backgrounds/histories of the original Rough Trade prime movers reminded me more of Caroline Coon’s observation that punk was actually the revenge of the hippies.

I’d previously assumed that the Rough Trade name derived from a conscious decision to position themselves as the antithesis of Virgin Records (then the hip UK record shop chain) but it seems that it was actually adopted from the 70s Canadian band of the same name who Travis had witnessed on his travels.

Taylor documents how the shop quickly took on a pivotal distribution role following the explosion in the number of independent labels in the wake of punk and how this role was consciously given an aesthetic and ideological backbone. Richard Scott, whose original background was in architecture, developed this into an infrastructure which was later formalised as The Cartel, an independent distribution network supplying the whole of the UK.

Geoff Travis was the driving force behind the Rough Trade label, although ironically the first RT record release, Metal Urbain’s “Paris Maquis” single was hatched while he was on holiday in New York. I’ve idly wondered in the past whether Travis is a bit of an unsung production genius due to his credits on so many early Rough Trade classics but Richard Kirk recounts how Cabaret Voltaire only humoured him in the studio that he was having any input into the recording of “Nag Nag Nag” and Jon Savage had also warned them before an Acklam Hall gig: “on no account let Geoff mix the sound” so perhaps not. Travis himself recounts how his early Fall co-productions with Mayo Thompson went well (“Fiery Jack”, “How I Wrote ‘Elastic Man’”) but when they came to record “Totally Wired” Mark E Smith took him to one side and asked if he could “not have that Mayo Thompson come this time”(!).


According to Jon Savage a certain earnestness crept in quickly, despite the introduction of new blood like Claude Bessy. (You certainly couldn’t imagine anything as wild as that Electric Eels 7” being unleashed after 1980). The book charts how the make-up of the staff changed as Rough Trade expanded and sought to become more businesslike. This wasn’t always a smooth process as the schisms between the label (embodied by Travis) and the distribution side (embodied by Scott) became increasingly entrenched. When you read their contrasting perspectives its hard not to conclude that they were both right in their own way but it doesn’t seem as if a formal separation of the two parts of the business was ever viable.

Rough Trade was initially established as a co-operative, based on a shared missionary zeal, with Rough Trade artists often doubling up as part-time workers. But as the business expanded the gradual introduction of external middle-managers as part of a drive to put things onto a more professional footing alienated some of the original crew (One thing that Travis and Scott agree on is that Rough Trade ceased to be fun when it expanded beyond 12 people). By the time the company went bust in 1991 growing militancy among warehouse staff had culminated in dog turds being sent through the post to the MD of Rough Trade Distribution. It was all a long way from 202 Kensington Park Rd.

Early on Island Records head Chris Blackwell had presciently warned Scott that “the worst thing that can happen to a successful independent label is that it has a big hit” and events seemed to bear this out, as the need to strengthen the business to ensure that potential hits were converted into actual hits led inexorably to a need for further hits to continue to fund the initial expansion. (Scott says: “I had never been interested in the charts […] Uncharted territory is always more fascinating”). And although the hits came (especially via The Smiths) poor financial management and credit control created long-term cash-flow problems. When this was compounded by the purchase of an expensive computer system which never worked properly and the taking on of a lease for new premises without disposing of the old one Rough Trade was doomed, despite its turnover having never been higher.

But Rough Trade was in Travis’s blood and he subsequently resurrected the label with Jeannette Lee. Despite the odd glitch it has arguably been consistently more successful than it was in its heyday. But it’s a different label and a vastly different world now. When Rough Trade began in 1978 you couldn’t imagine a major label releasing such off-beam records, whereas nowadays its A&R policy is essentially that of a more clued-up/more tasteful/pro-artist major. Not that there’s anything intrinsically wrong with that – but you’re never going to mistake it for Siltbreeze, say.



Meanwhile the original Rough Trade shop in London (which went its separate way in 1982 but retained the name and ethos) has gone from strength to strength, despite the impact of download culture. In a completely counter-intuitive move it opened Rough Trade East in 2007, Britain's largest music-only specialist store, although my diehard puritanism does recoil at the idea of a concession in Topman. Ironically while the unstoppable march of the internet has enabled the creation of the kind of self-supporting communities that punk rhetoric could only dream of, it’s simultaneously devalued the currency of music to a degree that an equivalent cultural uprising now seems inconceivable. Nowadays, as The Fall foreshadowed on ROUGH 10: “It’s only music, John”.

[Illustrations: Sniffin' Glue 12 adv. RT label release list. Screencaps: Travis and Scott. RT label release dates.]


















Rough Trade U.S.
by Ray Farrell




My interaction with Rough Trade began in 1978. I was the import buyer at Rather Ripped Records in Berkeley, California. I contacted the London shop because I’d heard they distributed various UK and European independent labels to stores in England. In general, imports were relatively easy to find through Jem and Peters International. But Rough Trade had a lot of great stuff and by ordering direct, there was no U.S. distributor as a middle man. I ordered via telex.

In 1980, I went to work for Arhoolie Records/Bayside Distiribution. Someone at Rough Trade in the U.K. asked me if I would be interested in working with them. I loved working at Arhoolie, but I knew that with Rough Trade I’d tap into a new and growing ecosystem of record stores, fanzines, clubs, that supported new bands that for the most part were all underground.

The Rough Trade shop in North Beach San Francisco had just opened. North Beach was the longstanding bohemian mecca of the west coast: The Mabuhay, Keystone, Savoy Tivoli, City Lights Books, Search And Destroy, On Broadway, and the post-show chow-down dive, Clown Alley, along with Rough Trade, were central to the scene.

Rough Trade wanted to establish a label and distribution system stateside. I was interviewed by a group of the RT staff in an S.F. apartment the evening of Dec 8, 1980 -- the day John Lennon was shot. On arrival, I tried to open the conversation expressing disbelief anyone would assassinate Lennon. There were blank stares, and someone chimed in that Lennon was dead well before that day. He was now part of the “dead rock geezer club” and his passing was insignificant. I half-remembered the slogan, “No Beatles, Stones or Seals & Crofts in 1977” and realized that some of these folks took their mission seriously.

Initially, I didn’t take the gig. Distribution was run out of the back room of the shop. One group of people had to work on the floor cross-legged while others used the work benches above. This was a “collective” business -- no bosses (on paper); wages hovering around minimum and everyone got equal pay. I told them to call me back when it made more sense. Besides, at Bayside and Arhoolie, we were distributing The Shaggs, NRBQ , Bongo Joe, hanging out with Clifton Chenier… I was having a blast! Some months later, RT set up a distribution warehouse in Berkeley, just blocks away from Carducci’s Systematic outfit. I knew some of the staff as customers of Rather Ripped. Two RT UK ex-pats Allan Sturdy and Steve Montgomery were the good cop-bad cop team overseeing the operation. I think that the label already had released a few titles, including the “Wanna Buy a Bridge” sampler compilation. I signed on.

Rough Trade U.S. provided two services. The first was distribution for Rough Trade and various UK and U.S. independent labels and zines. The second function was as U.S. outlet for domestic releases of specific Rough Trade, Factory and Crass label titles. They were pressed and distributed stateside as the profit margin was better with a domestic release.

Initally, there was no worry over lack of warehouse space. Shipments from Rough Trade & Jamaica could easily be dispersed among the 200 key independent record stores I sold to. I brought in U.S. independent labels because the demand was greater and we could keep stuff in stock. I wrote to many American bands I read about in fanzines to buy their discs for distribution on consignment. I was a fan of the Cramps, and I unearthed plenty of obscure American surf, rockabilly and country releases that needed an audience. This was the beginning of a philosophical rift between me and one Brit employee. He thought that almost all American bands were shit. The less political or culturally seasoned they were, the higher they were on his shitlist chart. One argument involved his request to pull all Johnny Thunders records off the shelves because the music was just standard sexist rock music. But when I asked how General Echo’s “12 inches of Pleasure” was ok in that context, he replied, “well that’s part of his culture”. I guess he wanted to change the world, one record at a time. Cassette-only releases were popular. Sub Pop began as a cassette fanzine series. The Fresh Sounds label out of Lawrence, Kansas also did well with comps in that format.

Somebody may have a complete discography of the Rough Trade U.S. release output with all discrepancies explained. But the focus was mainly on issuing key Factory Records titles stateside. We pressed all Joy Division titles, and Scritti Politti, David Thomas, Stiff Little Fingers, The Fall, Throbbing Gristle, Young Marble Giants and others. I pushed hard for the stateside release of Tav Falcos’ Panther Burns debut, “Behind The Magnolia Curtain” because, hell, it’s an American band on Rough Trade in England, so why not here too? The Cramps enthusiastically added them and The Gun Club as support acts.

One production challenge was to manufacture the album jackets to replicate the UK versions. At the time, cardstock and printing cost far less in the UK. Most U.S. labels used Canadian printers. A few printers refused to print the jacket for Crass’ “The Feeding Of The 5000”. Peter Saville’s Factory Records album art needed particular attention, and great effort was taken to try to match the UK covers. It helped that most of our funding came from Factory’s Tony Wilson. The UK label was doing very well.

Above, Steve Beeho has Island Records’ Chris Blackwell telling Richard Scott that the worst thing you can do is have a hit – an adage that probably goes back to the independent label heyday in the fifties. Here’s a good Rough Trade-US label story. Well, if you ever worked at a label, it is:

We released a 4 track 12” EP by the UK band A Certain Ratio. Many club DJs through the Rockpool network played all kinds of interesting records at a new iteration of dance clubs. “Shack Up” could easily fit into a set with, say, Liquid Liquid, and disco singles on the Tommy Boy or West End Records. Sales for “Shack Up” were brisk, but it hit a standard threshold of 2000 copies. One day I took a call from a one-stop in Detroit, saying that “Shack Up” was in medium rotation on a commercial R&B station. He wanted 3000 copies quickly and would pay half up front. The station would not maintain airplay for a record that was not in stores. We were out of stock. So we had to press them in an emergency. There were a handful of pressing plants in L.A. that we used, primarily Rainbo, and Bill Smith. Rainbo’s pressings were better but they couldn’t handle a rush-order at the time. We went to Bill Smith who was still using a hand press. He gave us the ETA for the order. We had the discs sent directly to the Detroit one-stop. It hits the stores and the complaints start coming in. Bill had also pressed an album called “Great Science Fiction Theme Songs” a dubious compilation of movie themes. Every copy of this record was in a “Shack Up” sleeve. That was the end of Detroit airplay for A Certain Ratio. No, our record was not a hit. If we actually had enough quantity to fill the order we would not have seen another dollar from that one-stop no matter how many it sold. Multiply that by five more major airplay scenarios and you see how having a “hit” is dangerous.


It was much smoother selling many hundreds of Delta 5’s “You” single on Rough Trade, because it the theme song of a San Jose teen new wave TV dance show. No bands -- just records and dancing kids sporting their latest wave units.

A standard practice among distributors is to return non-selling stock to the label for credit. At the time, this was not done in the UK. I occasionally received returns request invoices from distributors with an itemized list of the returns. Steve M thought that the word request suggested they were asking for permission to return the stock. He maintained that RT was a UK label and that all distributors played by our rules. Steve bought me a rubber stamp that said “Request Denied”. I stamped the request forms and mailed them back to the distributors, laughing every time. Unfortunately the resultant irate phone calls came to me.

Montgomery was a caustic and challenging sort and wanted to make his mark as an A&R visionary. He was determined to sign U.S. acts to Rough Trade. This caused friction with the UK office. The Sixth International label was a Montgomery project. He was the man behind a really good Toiling Midgets album, a smattering of LPs and singles, and my favorite, a 12” EP by a Seattle duo called the Smashchords. Two trashed-out cheap electric guitars playing Link Wray-style instrumental musings. Request denied by London, it had to be issued on the SmashTrade label. The Cramps now wanted them to open on west coast shows, but the duo got stage fright just discussing a live performance. The record was in Kurt Cobain’s collection and he was surprised to learn they were local boys.

I moved on in 1982. Rough Trade later moved the store and warehouse into one location in S.F. Ruth Schwartz took charge of distribution at that point. My favorite memory of Rough Trade US is of Allen Sturdy. A tall thin easygoing Jamaican gent, he would repeatedly sing one line of a lyric associated with one of our releases. He would sing the same line over and over for weeks at a time. The Fall’s “You better take an older lover” was one, sung in falsetto. The best was Joy Division’s “Means to an End” from the “Closer” album, with the repeated line, “I put my trust in you”. Allen misheard it and regularly sang it around our one-room warehouse as “I put my thrush in you”.

[Illustrations: RT press sheet with rubberstamped Berkeley address. Toiling Midgets "Sea of Unrest" cover. Smashchords ep cover.]


















Renaissance Records, Systematic Record Distribution, and Rough Trade
by Joe Carducci




Renaissance was an import-only record shop begun by three guys who’d worked at Music Millenium in Portland, Oregon, and thought they could do it better. They couldn’t, partly because Millenium was everything to everyone, and according to Archie Patterson just this month, they still are driven to carry everything against all sense decades later. Archie was hired out of Fresno on the basis of his Eurock fanzine to run their import division. The Renaissance guys had already left Millenium and their idea included some continental releases such as now classic German psychedelic bands (Popul Vuh, Tangerine Dream, Harmonia, etc.), but by 1977 its bread and butter had devolved to their chagrin to supplying Brit or German or Japanese pressings of iconic audiophile recordings such as Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”, or Michael Oldfield’s “Ommadawn”. Should there be any groove noise or even a single pop they’d bring the damn disc back the next day for a refund.

But the guys liked reggae as well and stocked Brit and Jamaican pressings of great classic stuff. Those 12” 45s cut and pressed in Jamaica were so damn hot that you quickly learned to junk any audiophile tendencies you might have caught, because those records popped like a mofo. As it happened one of the three guys travelled to London sometime in 1976 or '77 and wandered into Rough Trade Records in their earliest days when nothing but reggae played over the shop turntable. At that point most of the earliest Brit punk had been on major labels and the independent label and self-released flood of singles in 1978 had not dragged the shop into service as the nexis of the new.

By the time I wandered into Renaissance in late 1977 the shop was run primarily by Peter Handel. Peter was what NW folks recognize as a Reedie – a graduate of the semi-experimental Reed College. He was a stoner and really into the Stones and reggae, and also Patti Smith. He’s the one who began ordering the import 45s that Jem Records was offering (Sex Pistols, Clash, Jam, X-Ray Spex, Buzzcocks, etc.). I liked Peter and began to run the shop for three hours in the afternoon and close it up for him; I’d get one album or three 45s for pay. I have pretty cools records from that time. Peter was interested in checking out this reggae shop in London his ex-partner had told him about so he went over in early 1978. Everything was changing fast in London and he was inspired by what Geoff Travis, Richard Scott, and the others had going on; it was hip and righteous and though increasingly involved in the kind of punk rock Peter didn’t particularly care for, he could tell it was culture going somewhere.

If I remember he mostly bought reggae for himself that time but he thought we should start up a mail order service along the lines that RT had going so we ran ads in Rolling Stone and Creem and Slash magazines and began to collect a customer list. I had stumbled onto all of the Dangerhouse catalogue at Longhair Music where Jennifer LoBianco worked. She told me she got them direct so I bought them direct too. Jennifer later worked for Renaissance and her band, The Neo-Boys, practiced in the shop. I don’t think Peter thought that the various small American labels would ever add up to anything; the country is so large that it took years for any things to develop – years that often meant the bands that initiated events here or there were long gone by the time any results were seen. But in London Peter could see it work in a concentrated, one-city country form and he began to think about distribution as well. By early 1978 I was doing the first punk radio show on KBOO, playing the latest Brit punk and American releases and locally The Wipers joined the Neo-Boys as world class musicmakers. Also Portland saw west coast bands like The Screamers, The Zeros, The Dils, The Weirdos, Crime, Pink Section, and others.

We distributed the Dead Kennedys 45 so they asked us for a gig and we set up two shows at the Long Goodbye (The Fix opened). Jello was enthusiastic about our vague idea to move to the Bay Area to set up shop next to a planned Rough Trade U.S. RT had been selling to individual American record shops and having trouble getting paid and filling orders. They sold to Drome, Wax Trax, Yesterday & Today, Time Travellers, and most of the important shops around the country. Most were collector shops that nevertheless had respect for these new small label releases that could be hard to track down. The first 45s had come out of Ohio, New York, and others places – bands all over the map like Television, Patti Smith, Pere Ubu, Residents, Chrome, Devo, The Last, Half-Japanese, Negative Trend, The Zippers, The Dils, The Urinals, etc. Peter worked with the Geoff and Richard on the phone and I was in charge of writing for American samples and buying those for distribution/mail order and the shop. Over the counter sales didn’t amount to much but the mail order and distribution was beginning to happen.

Peter convinced Rough Trade to just refer American shops to us and we’d work our better price to a low mark-up and do domestic promotion for their releases, which were beginning too. So we took their promo list and combined it with what the DKs worked from and whatever anybody else had and sent out the radio and press copies beginning in 1979. Peter returned to RT in London to talk about a move to the bay area and laying the groundwork for splitting our American record shop accounts with them once we all got set up. This meant we did about a year long run to increase our accounts by combing the yellow pages at the Multnomah Library and blindly mailing our wholesale catalogues to just about any shop that looked hip or more often, just a used or collector shop. We made plans to start a label while in Portland but it was complicated to deal with the local bands and they didn’t seem to understand what we were building. Peter and I both sported beards which no punk would countenance until Peter Saville shots of Joy Division with facial hair cropped up years later. I wasn’t about to shave to the gods of punk.

In London a second time Peter sat in with Geoff and Mayo Thompson for the cutting of lacquers for Cabaret Voltaire’s “Mix-Up” album and he told me was so bowled over by the sound he was sure it would be a massive hit – I think they were all high. He also found out that Rough Trade would be doing Pere Ubu records so we booked them for Portland just to get a look at them. It cost the business about $1500, but Peter didn’t flinch; they were great (The Ziplocs opened). I flew to London so I knew what they were doing and they knew who did the catalogues. I stayed with Richard and liked him fine and still owe him five bob which i needed to get to Heathrow. I’d also gone to Paris to visit SCOPA (P.P.U., Illitch...) and to Sweden to visit SAM Distribution (saw Ebba Grőn too). While in London I managed to meet most of the RT crew including Allan who was about to meet us in Cali, and Steve Solamar of Object Music, the Better Badges guy, not too many others though i did get to see Geoff see off the Fall as they went to NYC for the first time. I missed the days of the doorless Rough Trade john that had so impressed Peter. But I saw a couple good shows, one at Oxford where D.A.F., still then a four piece, really impressed me, but something happened between that gig and the studio. I talked to the one American there, the late Scott Piering, who did promotions and he concurred that the building RT catalog might use a bit more rock as it seemed suddenly rarer in 1979. Mostly I spent days walking around London while I had the chance – big town.

We packed up a rental truck and moved to Pinole, California the day after Christmas, 1979. Peter, his girlfriend, and I. We got a space on Heinz Ave in Berkeley, just down from the Berkeley Barb offices. We got going as fast as we could set up and immediately were reissuing the first Dead Kennedys and Pink Section 45s. I got an apartment walking-distance of the office near the Ashby BART station, and Rough Trade’s first “agents” in town were Vale, of Search and Destroy magazine, and a straighter guy named Craig, a manic man about town who was about a perfect opposite of Vale. They’d been getting sixes of each Rough Trade release so we knew that RT counted on them to be hitting the bay area media, mostly the excellent college radio stations (KUSF, KALX, KFJC), Greil Marcus, and probably a commercial station, and that hunk of deadwood at the SF Chronicle Joel Selvin. I think Herb Caen may have gotten records too in the run-up. Soon Allan Sturdy flew in and he, Vale, Craig and I began to gather at Peter’s, or the Systematic office, or at Allan’s house in Orinda. Allan was a great guy, a tall, thin, red-haired stoner with a Jamaican accent and great little quirks like for example being unable to pronounce “San Francisco”.

Peter aced me out of half ownership of a company with negative value and since I knew it was a mistake to move to SF rather than LA, I stayed out of Peter’s relationship with RT mostly, though I saw Richard and Sue Johnson and Pete Walmsley on their various stateside stretches. Walmsley’s name was on King Crimson’s “Larks Tongues” and “Red” covers so he was like reg’lar Limey royalty. Richard studied baseball when he could, and Sue broke up Peter’s relationship with Lynne. Peter caught the collective/meeting disease from Rough Trade which wasn’t exactly relevant in a two-man office. One day he said we should have regular meetings, and I said, “Well I’m right here, what do you want?”

SF saw a few more better gigs because RT was there but the mother label became more purely English in some way that prevented it truly participating in the American music underground then being built up one kid at a time by Black Flag, SST, Systematic, Dutch East, Flipside, Forced Exposure, Touch & Go, and others. Souled American was the great exception to this rule at RT later in the 80s when interest finally swung to American bands in Europe. I mostly built up Systematic’s reputation as the place for American independent releases, in particular the heavier L.A. and D.C. stuff, which was fortuitous as Peter had let our bill with Rough Trade grow to a size which got us put on hold. As the Optional Music label wound down, I started Thermidor hoping to do the Monitor album and other stuff I couldn’t get Peter interested in. Thermidor was myself and Jon Boshard and a sometime-third, Johnny Myers, who’d put us together in between trying to manage Flipper. Thereafter I explored the limitations of the bay area which were thankfully many and left for LA and SST before the end of 1981.

At SST I was finally at the center of what was happening in this very large country which even then, under the latter years of the major labels’ dominating platinum ethos, had no apparent center. I was also as close to the artistic process of the bands as any non-musician can be. When Joe Pope took over Systematic I made an effort to convince him to move it to LA so SST could have a simpatico distributor within reach – the better for tour promotion and advertising coordination, etc. Might’ve worked but that Colorado boy loves San Francisco.

Vale describes the beginning in his ReSearch blog,

"I had been the first American hired to help launch Rough Trade USA (Rough Trade, a U.K. store and record label, had been stocking my punk tabloid "Search & Destroy" since its very beginning in June, 1977). I had rented a storefront in North Beach on Grant at Green Streets, a block from where I lived, and had set up the retail and wholesale operation, with help from Allan Sturdy (a white Rastifarian; and "Peter and Sue," seemingly always hunched over canary-yellow bookkeeping sheets, presided over by the tall, rail-thin founder, Geoff Travis).” [Vale]


Aquarius Records was the long-time hip shop in SF and then Tower was damn good in SF and Berkeley too. The buyers at Tower Berkeley were very loyal to Syst; Georgette went on to work for RT U.S. and then London if I remember correctly, and her successor Joe Pope (of the band Angst) eventually left to work for us. Peter ultimately gave Systematic to Pope for the assumption of what sadly turned out to be the insurmountable debt run up to RT UK.

In bay area retail terms, RT was trading on its underground cachet but that only went so far, though its exclusive with Factory Records with its simpler lux-gothish come-on could go quite far with impressionable Americans.

I was too busy on the phone or filling boxes for UPS to hang much at RT so allow me to cede the floor to Johnny Myers, friend of yore and rumored third leg of the Thermidor triumvirate. Johnny was the best on-mic college radio DJ ever and his KALX interviews with Black Flag and Flipper are legendary and were instrumental in the University Administration deciding finally that only registered students could have programs. I’ll end on Johnny’s Falconi-like discordant notes, posted late last month at his Hack Reviewer Guy mog page:

KALX, Thermidor, and Rough Trade U.S.

“Okay, I guess the first step for this somewhat sordid saga would be my years at KALX as their guy in charge of DJ training.... one day in 1978, a trainee arrived named Chris Lowry, a wacky gal from Wales. She picked up the necessary skills quickly. Moreover, her radio voice was perfect, all smoky accent with just the right amount of hoarseness. Her musical tastes roughly paralleled mine as well. Soon enough, my 'pupil' and I were involved in extracurricular activities...

I finally relented to Ms. Lowry's relentless campaign to get me to quit the 'Major Cookie Factory'. When she set me up to become retail manager at Rough Trade Records (US) on Grant Street in SF, I just couldn't resist. (East Oakland to North Beach, now THAT'S a paradigm shift!)...

The way I was hired was a bit of a hoot. Sure they had my 'resume', which consisted of all of the stuff I'd been doing for free at KALX and Another Room Magazine. They also knew I had zero retail experience, except for driving an ice cream truck; I was also a college dropout, and a factory grunt as well. At least I did know how to do one thing, and that was play golf. The chairman of Rough Trade US was Allan Sturdy, an Englishman raised in Jamaica who always had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He thought it would be amusing to conduct my job interview on the golf course at Tilden Park. During the course of the round, I paid little attention to my game, concentrating instead on detailing my so-called 'qualifications'--my only real ones being that I knew my 'indies' well, and that I had an inkling about which ones would sell in the store... Mr. Sturdy, on the other hand, paid little attention to my drivel. His focus was entirely upon the task of kicking my ass--golf-wise of course... When the round was done, he shook my hand and promised to get back to me about the job. A few days later he offered me the job over several more qualified applicants (who all showed up at the store over the coming weeks wondering how this yahoo hick from Livergulch stole their dream job right out from under them). I then proceeded to commit financial suicide, i.e., I kicked the secure union job to the curb, in favor of a non-secure job working for what turned out to be a hippy-dippy socialist collective paying minimum wage with pie-in-the-sky promises of future profit sharing... yeah... right...

The highlight of my first week on the 'job' (you could hardly call it that after 4 years of factory wage slavery)--besides realizing they had almost no retail inventory for me to sell (a couple or three milk crates worth of LPs and 45s was about it)--was that I was setting new sales records every day. That seemed strange to me as there were never any lines at my register (BTW, the 'Manager' part of my job title only meant that I had slightly higher status than Ruby Ray, the infinitely hipper woman who worked weekends...). There was just an irregular trickle of customers who seldom bought more than 1 or 2 discs (CDs weren't invented yet kids...). I kept wondering, 'How could these paltry totals be sales records?' Well, after a couple of weeks of setting these 'records', Mr. Sturdy, and his British minions from the 'home office', Sue and Joe (?), finally put their 'collective' heads together and deduced that the comely young lady whom I replaced had been embezzling hundreds of dollars a month!...

Soon I settled into the retail routine of doing orders--the most 'fun' and 'risky' part. You want to broaden your customers' horizons, but if you go too far, your 'mistake' will languish in the bins for months.

I had a growing sense of uneasiness, however. For example, they were hiring people to do jobs that didn't really exist--which made the profit-sharing seem more and more mirage-like. Also, they didn't seem to be selling all that much on the wholesale end of things (where Chris Lowry worked) and that was supposedly their 'cash cow' (more about 'cows' later...). BTW, retail was expected to lose money, I was there for public relations mostly... I had quit my steady factory job to be 'window dressing'?!? Ouch!...

After a few months of this nebulosity, I had my first rude awakening. It all started one afternoon when Sue and her husband Joe (?)--the 'home office' people--said they were feeling really sick. They asked me if I could drive them to the free clinic (obviously RT provided zero benefits to anyone) at UCSF Medical Center. (Ironically, the very same institution where I will have my super-expensive 6 hour surgery, er... um... 'procedure' to somehow rescue this blogger's sorry ass (actually NOT my ass, but close to it) from cancer--bizarre!) I said ‘Sure thing!’ and they piled into the back seat as if my car was a cab (Mr. Sturdy was the ONLY one @ RT who had any respect for me, to everyone else I was just that 'Hick from Livergulch'...). They then proceeded to moan and groan increasingly as I worked my way across town. I eventually found the place and escorted my dyspepsic 'co-workers' inside. I waited for them for what seemed like hours, then an intern emerged asking for ‘Mr. Myer’ (my 'co-workers' didn't even bother to LEARN MY NAME--the arrogant snobs!) He then inquired, ‘We were wondering if you'd like a 'dose' as well?’ I responded with, ‘What are you talking about? I'm fine! I just gave them a ride.’ He replied, ‘Oh really? So you're NOT a heroin addict? It's okay, you're safe here, just have some methadone with your friends and you'll feel better too...’ I freaked out, screaming, ‘I AM NOT A F---IN' JUNKIE DUDE! I had no idea my 'co-workers' were heroin addicts! They just told me they had tummyaches!’ ...Working at Rough Trade was not the same after that--I had quit a respectable job to work with F---IN' SMACKHEADS! OUCH! DANG! Was I dumb, or what??? That was one sizable 1st wake up call for this idealistic greenhorn from 'The Gulch'...

The next alarm bell to go off revolved around a reggae record store that had opened up in luxurious digs near Oakland's Lake Merritt. I was occasionally enlisted by Allan Sturdy to deliver wholesale rasta records to them on my way back home to Berkeley. I was taken by the friendliness and humor of the supposed Rastafarians who were running the place. You'd be 'humorous' too if you were spliffin' as much ganja as they were (actually they seemed to prefer a 'chillum' to 'spliffs' (whereas my English 'colleagues' always took their pot with a large portion of tobacco mixed in...the friggin' foreigners...)). Anyway, they let me listen to some of their reggae rarities, and generally made this white boy feel welcome. Then one day, when I asked Allan when the next delivery was scheduled, he told me to take a seat. He then informed me that someone had blown the reggae store proprietor's head off with a shotgun at close range, and that the store had closed up shop... Ouch! Dang! Wake up call number 2! The opulent reggae store, which seemed to never have ANY customers, was a drug money laundry first, a store a very distant second...

The third and final wake-up call came after Allan Sturdy quit to return to his original vocation of managing tours for reggae bands. Now I was really vulnerable, I no longer had my 'wing-man', and was none too popular with the aforementioned druggies who were now 'in charge'. Soon, Ms. Lowry, who got herself and I into this mess to begin with, quit after being continually called a 'bloody cow'--a serious insult in British lingo--by Sue and Joe (?). Soon after these 'purges', this WAS a socialist collective after all, my demise was sealed by the arrival of a tall, dashing, Englishman by the name of Steve Montgomery. He had lots of experience in the 'indie' field, as he was a veteran from Rough Trade UK in London. It turned out that he was angling for a job with Rough Trade US, b/c he'd BEEN FIRED from the UK store for some sort of unscrupulous behavior... Now in the 'normal' business world one would think that such transgressions on Mr. Montgomery's part would preclude his being hired 'stateside'--but noooo! A precedent had been set for such madness as Rough Trade UK had gladly hired the embezzling babe whom I replaced! The company was being operated by people who were OUT OF THEIR FRIGGIN' GOURDS!!!

I could see the proverbial writing on the wall once Steve-o was hired. He undermined what precious little authority I still had. He talked behind my back, saying I was a country bumpkin (which is a fact I still can't escape--you can take the boy out of Livergulch, but you can't take the Livergulch out of the boy (my students think my 'hickness' is a hoot BTW...)), that I wasn't ‘Rough Trade material.’ He nailed me on that score, as I was neither a drug addict, NOR a crook...

Sure enough, soon a 'meeting' (read: kangaroo court) was called, a 'vote' was tallied, and I was out on the street yet again. I lost my 'dream job' to a 'con artist'--wake up call/life lesson number 3...

PS, Before Allan Sturdy left, he finally let me know why he chose to hire me, a kid (I had hair then) with zero tangible qualifications, when there were countless others with vast resumes that he passed over. "You beat me on the golf course," said Allan. (It was 78 to 79--I remember the scores like it was yesterday). "If you had lost, I would've hired someone else." He figured that if I had learned how to play decent golf, I could certainly decipher how to sell records. Yes, Allan Sturdy was exactly what his name implied--knowing him was just about the only positive thing I garnered from Rough Trade (besides the 3 'wising up' parts...). Actually, there WAS a 4th wake up call. That came when good ol' 'Junkie Sue' implied that if I did 'certain things' for her that her vote might just go for me instead of 'Steve-o-rino'. I told her that she could perform those 'certain things' on herself, and thus at least retained a shred of self-respect as I escaped that limey nut-house. (Which folded a few years later under Mr. Montgomery's megalomaniacal 'guidance'.

Anyway, I knew things weren't going well at RT when we were all excited about Joy Division's upcoming US tour... We were going to put them up in our various hovels to save the group some precious cash, as we had already done with Cabaret Voltaire (nice guys) and Delta 5 (prima donna jerks for no discernable reason...). Yet then idiothead Ian Curtis JUST HAD TO HANG HIMSELF BY HIS ANGST-RIDDEN NECK! At least his suicide boosted my sales in the store for a while, but it was all for naught...

(Johnny Myers, July 2010)


Godspeed Johnny Myers, but first hang around awhile.

[Illustrations: Rough Trade Newsletter 1981. Rough Trade pr sheet. Renaissance mail order catalog #9. Renaissance wholesale catalog 2. Renaissance wholesale catalog 3, pgs. 2, 3. Systematic wholesale catalog 4, pgs. 9, 10.]


















Tower Records, Systematic and Rough Trade U.S.
by Joseph Pope




By the time Rough Trade released their first 45 in 1978 (Metal Urbain’s second single) it was just one of many records that had poured forth from the UK that year. Already a fan of the band and having heard of the London shop, the 45 was a welcome addition to my collection. Besides being fortunate enough to grow up near one of the better record stores of the era (Wax Trax-Denver), I had long been writing to bands, labels and stores to obtain tough-to-find regional punk releases as well as reggae records. I also used several mail-order outfits such as Zed, Bomp, and once they started, Renaissance, which soon turned into Systematic Record Distribution. On graduating high school in 1978 I landed a job as import buyer at Peaches Records, one of the Georgia-based chain. In those days, most punk records were sold through importers like Jem and tended to be dumped into the import section.

By coincidence, I landed in Berkeley at the same time as Systematic in early 1980. My first job was at the Tower Records on Durant Avenue (about 1/2 mile from Rather Ripped Records, where Ray Farrell worked). I began making regular, at least weekly, buying trips to Systematic, stocking up on all their new releases. Being an absolute believer in the underground/independent scene, I would buy at least two copies of every new release that came in. Not only was I supporting a place I felt needed it, the “import section” at Tower was thereby fleshed-out nicely with what I had purchased from the mainline importers. These runs to Systematic also allowed me to “set aside” (ie: leave in the trunk of my car) a copy of everything for myself! After about 6 months of this behavior I was asked by Joe Carducci if I wanted a job with Systematic and was hired in January of 1981. -- Note: I did not continue my “setting aside” behavior after being hired by “the good guys”. [That’s good to know at this late date – Ed.]

As I was their first (and only) employee, I did what was asked of me. Rough Trade had set up their warehouse near Systematic and was just getting their label/distribution off the ground in America. I began to interact with their employees on a more regular basis. The RT employee that I have the fondest memories of is Allan Sturdy, who was kind, friendly, and seemed to perpetually be in a good mood (he was probably stoned all the time). Once I had gone to his house north of Berkeley to pick up some records I think, and he offered me some freebase (“crack” had yet to be invented). Though I had given up chemicals by then, I took up the offer. What can I say? The drive home on that warm, sunny northern California day was splendid! Along with some of the music they released, this is the most pleasurable Rough Trade-related memory I have. (Ha!)

Prior to Rough Trade establishing their U.S. Distribution branch, Systematic was the first and only American distributor dedicated solely to independently released underground punk/new wave records. In short order the division of stores between Rough Trade and Systematic that Joe describes below took place. A simple agreement: you can call these stores first and we can call these – we each have our preferred customers. The agreement did not hold long. I discovered this by calling to solicit one of our larger and most supportive stores on some new releases and was told “I've already ordered that from Rough Trade”. Granted, Peter Handel (one of the original owners of Renaissance-Systematic) caused a number of folks financial grief (including Rough Trade and Systematic itself) so the action may have been warranted on some level, but given the long and unique relationship between the two distributors there certainly could have been a better way to handle it than simply breaking the agreement. So much for idealism.

The distribution landscape was rapidly changing. There was a new, much more substantial explosion of independent releases. In the early 80s more fanzines, stores, radio stations, and “serious” events such as the New Music Seminar began to pop up, creating a support network for independent releases that was non-existent a few years earlier. The unique Tower chain continued to expand as well. Rough Trade itself had deserved cachet among the growing number of people listening to and buying “new music”, and this gave them an advantage. Put another way, in 1981 it was a hell of a lot easier to sell a Joy Division album than a Dicks 45.

Hardcore took shape in this period as well, taking full advantage of this growing network/interest. So much so that Faulty Products (part of I.R.S. Records which was associated with A&M and so about as close to being major label as one can be without actually being one) signed bands such as the Circle Jerks and made an exclusive distribution deal with Alternative Tentacles, as well as picking up smaller labels for distribution. Faulty went under in 1982 though, nearly taking Alternative Tentacles with them. This period – 1982-83 -- was an odd one, as on one hand the growth and possibilities seemed endless, but on the other hand there was a contraction. Within about a year Faulty, Bonaparte, Sky Disc and Disc Trading all folded, and though they weren’t all that vested in the punk underground, it caused a chill nonetheless. By 1983 Peter was gone from Systematic and Allan had left Rough Trade. Faces were changing, and so was the mood.

As the visibility and popularity of underground music grew, so did bands' hopes and expectations. For me 1984 was key in this regard. This was the year that both the Meat Puppets and Hüsker Dü got reviewed in Rolling Stone. Suddenly it seemed like anything was possible. More bands wanted to “make it” and distributors were becoming much more competitive in how they were going to get their piece of the pie. I had a conversation with Ruth Schwartz (then at Rough Trade) where I was lamenting this and that things just felt less friendly. She simply replied “There's too much money involved for people to have a sense of humor.” Rough Trade had, oh, about 12 employees at this point. (Systematic had three.)

More distributors became focused on their own in-house labels. Some of them remained musically adventurous, others less so. Having an in-house label generally meant, of course, that their own records would be the ones they'd push first to the stores, at the expense of smaller groups that needed help. Many distributors cut back on the number of 7” records they carried, or stopped carrying them all together. It was work to listen to and keep up with all the new bands debuting on their own labels. Distributors also began to sign established independent labels to exclusive deals. This really ended the original open system. But who could blame such small operations for wanting to simplify how or from whom they would get paid? On the other hand it cut the legs off the entire “do-it-yourself” aesthetic. Many independents were behaving just like major labels!

A common practice among distributors (Rough Trade, Important, Greenworld, and others) became to approach a store with your in-house exclusive new release that they couldn't refuse (The Smiths, say) and while on the phone take pre-orders on something like the forthcoming Hűsker Dű album (by “New Day Rising” every distributor carried them) offering the latter at a “loss leader” price that was impossible for the likes of Systematic to match. This gutted the chances of Systematic selling larger quantities of what was to them a huge release, and it ate up stores' limited budgets rendering it impossible to sell some new unknown group's 45 as well. On more than one occasion, a band would have a “buzz” after a 7” or two, and then Rough Trade would begin carrying them, or worse yet, sign an exclusive deal with them or their label.

For someone who, probably naively, still believed in the original DIY aesthetic and believed in supporting bands simply because they liked the music, the writing was on the wall. The increased competition and changing marketplace created an untenable situation that affected distributors in different ways. With a feeling that I can only describe as similar to that of losing a family member, Systematic folded in 1988. It was maybe 3 years later that Rough Trade itself went under, largely due to developments in Britain, though those in America could hardly have helped. Ironically, “Punk Rock” and labels that began as true independents went on to sell millions of copies shortly thereafter.



[Illustrations: Metal Urbain, Rough Trade 1. RT distribution catalog cover. RT dist. catalog page one (independent dist. network). Systematic mail order catalog 27. Folsom St., S.F. Systematic office c. 1984 (l-r: Gary, Stephanie, Joseph). Seasons greetings from Jeff and Ian of Dischord Records.]
















From the Wyoming desk of Joe Carducci…


Further Rough Tradeiana:

Jeffrey Lewis’ History of Rough Trade.


Official Pere Ubu particulars.


Kleenex “Nice” 1978

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The Sleepers in NYC w/ saxophone w/ saxophone, April 10, 1981 Hurrah’s.

Toiling Midgets Haight Ashbury 2007 Street Fair

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Stench Radio interviews with Kira, Sylvia Juncosa, Mike Watt, Gary Floyd...

Black Flag vocalists T-shirt.

Lisa Fancher of Frontier Records interviewed by Larry LeBlanc in Encore.

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Early electric guitar prototypes at EMP, Seattle


Photo by Joe Carducci

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Maxine Bernstein in The Oregonian, Chasse Chase, knockdown ‘inconsistent’ with training. This was the cover of the Sunday Oregonian when we left Portland the day after the Lightbourne Tribute. James Chasse was the youngest kid interested in punk rock when I was at Renaissance Records and KBOO in the late seventies. For all the talk of “the kids” there weren’t that many real kids into the music. Jim-Jim as we knew him was on the outs with his parents and when they committed him I set a petition for his release out on the shop counter and collected the signatures of Portland’s punk roll call circa 1979. I contributed cartoons to two issues of Jim-Jim’s fanzine, The Oregon Organism. He went to the gigs, saw the all-ages Dead Kennedys show we put on and understood when I had to throw him out of the second 21+ show. He was probably always sneaking out of his house; I remember him showing up at my late night Sunday radio show a couple times. I see that Jim sang for a band called the Psychedelic Unknowns through the eighties and nineties. Jeff Williams of the Ziplocs back then, told me a couple years ago of Jim’s death on the street at the hands of some policeman. Not the kind of thing one expects of Portland. When I read about his now elderly parents having to bury their troubled son I thought of his mother’s call to the shop on receiving our petition. All I could do was vouch on behalf of a marginally sane punk rock community that her son was considered sane and a good friend and deserved to be free. She knew him better of course; I trust it wasn’t all ordeal for them.

From Pdx we drove up to Seattle where I was deposed by Jacob of the Experience Music Project for their oral history archive and an upcoming Nirvana exhibition. The night before I met up with Jack Endino and compared notes on the Northwest, Southern California, and… sound. Nice to finally meet him. Last time I was in Seattle I did a well promoted but poorly attended Tower book-signing -- everyone was in lockdown at Bumbershoot. The time before that I was with Back Flag and they played for all the next big things in their formative stages. And the time before that I went up with a carload of Portlanders to witness The Wipers first out-of-town gig. Seattle and environs is about the best looking cityscape one sees, but it was good to get back to about the best looking ruralscape one can find.

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Tad Friend in the NYer, "Sleeping with Weapons", ought to be called "John Lurie has a Cool", as it bends in the direction of Gay Talese’s new journalism breakthrough, "Frank Sinatra has a Cold" (Esquire, Apr. 1966). The NYer doesn’t know who to call to get hip so you get Tad Friend who writes about Lurie and the other guy like he knows them socially. Or maybe someone who doesn’t know told him this is this day’s hip in jeopardy: John Lurie, the chairman or maybe stoolman of the “known universe” (“Between Fourteenth Street and Canal”). On any level, the music (Lounge Lizards vs Sinatra any period), film (Stranger Than Paradise vs The Detective), gossip column appearances (zip vs threatening to punch Woody Allen for Mia Farrow while in his eighties) this is sad. Sinatra in 1966 was postwar American culture in full, but under siege by boomer youth culture. Still he was doing great work in music, business and movies. Is the NYer really same vs the old Esquire of the sixties? Well maybe any magazine is, but the NYer is not this bad until they do these pop culture pratfalls. After appearing in Stranger Than Paradise (1984), Lurie burned his “trademark fedora, which people had started to recognize from the film”? I just saw a rogues’ gallery of Brooklyn hipsters in the WSJ modelling their neo-pork pies. Maybe one of them’s a genius who will have to stop wearing it in ten years once they become a recognized New York genius-artist and can’t walk the streets of the known universe no more. The middle column feature begins first with a stipple portrait of Sinatra mistakenly wearing a homburg from some period musical; probably not what he was buried in.

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Nat Hentoff in the WSJ, on himself and a 3-CD set “Cantors, Klezorim and Crooners 1905-1953."

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The new issue of Uncut features another insulting treatment of American gospel music and blues and country, whereby anything to be determined cool must first be reverse-engineered and rebuilt to be remarketed to kids as Goth. It isn’t just readership and listeners insulted, it's Goddamned Nick Cave who looks like a fool on the cover of the mag, the free CD and throughout the feature. Rick Rubin did this to Johnny Cash too at the beginning of his final act. Johnny let himself be gothed up in some Hollywood version of his old Man in Black phase, but by the end it was Gospel and folk and Rubin himself trying to follow along in whatever Buddhism he’d picked up in Cali. The film version of this is Noirism. This is all fine if you’re a wise-ass eighth grader, but that isn’t the intended audience for Cash, Cave, or old films so it’s unfortunately the measure of the deterioration of modern sensibility.

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Third Annual Wyoming Film Festival, August 27 - 28, 2010.

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Allen Barra in the WSJ on Yojimbo at 50.

I’m all for valorizing Akira Kurosawa’s perversely comic samurai drama, Yojimbo (1961) -- it's his best film if not quite the best samurai film, that be Sword of Doom (1966) -- but this appreciation makes the usual mistaken assumptions that pass through American letters and numbers in various flavors of pretense, here recycled from the usual inadequate experts and/or aesthetes: Audie Bock, Pauline Kael, Donald Richie. The title of Barra’s piece is “That Nameless Stranger, Half a Century Later”, but if “Yojimbo” is his job -- bodyguard -- the character gives an improvised name as Sanjuro Kuwabatake as he looks at a mulberry field according to Alain Silver’s book, The Samurai Film. That isn’t quite the Man With No Name of Leone-Eastwood. Because critics in America can’t but assume that our culture comes from Europe, the influence of Yojimbo on Hollywood via Sergio Leone’s Italo-German co-productions filmed in Spain with Clint Eastwood is seen as a novel twist in this Euro- or Anglophile false culture-narrative. Barra notes labored speculations that Kurosawa might have read Dashiell Hammett’s 1929 novel, Red Harvest, which moves his Continental Op between warring bands of thugs brought to town by an industrialist to muscle labor. The truth is a general one and that is that the American pulp cornucopia was so vast from the 19th century-on that there is conversely no appreciation for its richness by those edumucated in colleges that seem reluctant to broach even the accepted classics of any culture. Hammett himself reworked this classic construction and Harvest itself was adapted for films earlier and later. But Kurosawa was adapting the western, probably Buchanan Rides Alone (1958) which was produced by Harry Joe Brown and Randolph Scott, directed by Budd Boetticher, and written by Charles Lang and an uncredited Burt Kennedy from a 1956 western called Buchanan by William Ard (credited as Jonas Ward) which served as the beginning of a series of Buchanan westerns by several writers over the years including Brian Garfield (Buchanan’s Gun). Kurosawa didn’t remake Buchanan, but we can assume he saw it in its time and realized that its story of a loner riding into a border-town feud between Anglos and Mexicans could be his departure point for a story that said something he was feeling about postwar Japan. Our culture snobs then took Yojimbo for ground zero thereafter, and unfortunately this includes postwar American filmmakers. (God save us from the versions of the Coen Bros. and Walter Hill and the inevitable high school-set version.) Anyway the point is whatever fandom’s limits, there be the information that our culture editors and writers need, absent which they read everything wrong, since we know they read or see or hear very little American pulp. How sad; I once called them “Vicarious ex-pats”.

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Jed Perl in The New Republic, "The Picture: Midcult Revisited".

“[Dwight] Macdonald—an anti-Communist Leftist who had been turning his energies from politics to culture in the 1950s—was worried about the place of the arts in a modern, democratic society. This is a perfectly reasonable thing to worry about. Macdonald was appalled by the cheapening of art and literature in a big, complex, contemporary culture, about the extent to which people were being fed—and, sometimes it seemed, force-fed—a preprocessed, easy-to-digest version of art, literature, theater, and music. This was what he called ‘masscult,’ which was ‘at best a vulgarized reflection of High Culture and at worst a cultural nightmare.’ Instead of Old Master paintings, people were getting Norman Rockwell. Instead of Bach and Mozart, they were getting the Boston Pops. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there was also midcult to contend with. Midcult was a newer idea, a mid-century variation on the phenomenon of mass culture. Midcult, Macdonald argued, “pretends to respect the standards of High Culture while in fact it waters them down and vulgarizes them.” Midcult was Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea and Thornton Wilder’s Our Town—works, so Macdonald argued, that mimicked the profundity and complexity and unconventional language and structure we expect from original works of art. Midcult was imitation high culture—a cheapening of the deepest artistic experiences that was passed off as deep experience.”


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Jonathan Carson at Americanthinker.com, "Why We Can’t All Just Get Along".

“We can take from this that the prohibition of infidel houses and houses of worship higher than Islamic ones is not absolute: it can be waived as long as the principle of compulsory degradation is otherwise upheld. Given this prohibition, we should not perhaps be too surprised that Islamic terrorists destroyed the lofty World Trade Center nor that Muslims now own the tallest building in the world, even if they had to pay for it with borrowed money and oil extracted by Western companies: it was designed by a Chicago firm and erected by Samsung--in Dubai.  There seems to have been no real economic basis for such a tall building, only a desire to overawe the infidels.”


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Michael Calderone at his upshot blog believes he’s making an important point about the Ground Zero mosque, namely that it isn’t being built on ground zero, but a short cab-ride away. But really, the point is not what our media or we think of this. The question is, at the wellsprings of Islamic Jihadism how will this development be heard and interpreted? I think we know that in the villages and ghettos of Islam the news of the building of the mosque will not be understood as it is in the editorial boardroom of the New York Times, or in the White House, but will rather be seen as tribute paid by infidels to the one true faith. The Koran allows for no other interpretation, not that there are none differing interpretations in Islam, its just that these have no standing in the faith’s fundamentals and never gain the power to force a reformation that would vault that faith out of the eighth century for good. Just as the Moslem ghettos of Europe accept their generous welfare payments as tribute -- the neat reverse of the jizyah tax on infidels in Islamic countries -- they will nod in acknowledgement at the news of the building of the mosque, understanding that their expectation that, the Koran being true, all the world must one day submit.

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Tom Wright and Siobhan Gorman in the WSJ, "Militants Overtake India as Top Threat, Says Pakistan’s ISI".

“Pakistan has about 150,000 soldiers fighting on its western border, with an additional100,000 in reserve to rotate with those troops, the senior ISI officer said. The country's remaining 350,000 soldiers are focused on the border with India, including the disputed Himalayan territory of Kashmir. "The direct threat from India has reduced considerably but that's not to say it's diminished entirely," the ISI officer said.”


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Ajit Kumar Singh on FATA drone attacks at SAIR.

“Reports indicate that missile attacks by US drones in the FATA have more than tripled since January 20, 2009, when Barack Obama took over the Presidency in USA. According to a BBC Urdu Service report published on July 24, 2010, there were 25 drone strikes between January 2008 and January 2009 in which slightly fewer than 200 people were killed. Between January 20, 2009, and the end of June 2010, there were at least 87 such attacks, killing more than 700 people.”


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Newspapers revenue breakdown breakdowns at niemanlab.org.

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PBS semi-defends its poor little foundling scream-fest, "The McLaughlin Group".

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Tom Genrich and Michele Perry in LeMondeDiplo, "Settlers by choice ".

“Degrowth (décroissance) is a loose international movement against consumerism and the idea that economic growth is not only good for us, but the only means by which we can survive. Degrowth is environmentalist and advocates generalised downscaling, at least in developed nations. ‘But we don’t live in a cave,’ says Manu, a qualified teacher, self-taught builder, school bus driver and elected representative in his village (only about a quarter of whose inhabitants were born there). ‘We have a computer, we’re not Luddites.’ He and his partner wanted out of the ‘dirty smelly city’ which they found ‘aggressive, especially towards the fringe elements of society that we represented, and the poor in general.’ They wanted something better, for themselves and their children. Néos in the Cévennes are artisans, artists, social workers, translators, special needs careers, activists, and smallholders. None of them have been ‘forced’ to move here. Most thought hard before taking the plunge into what is, by any standards, deepest countryside: average population density in Lozère is 15 inhabitants per square kilometre, compared to 100 nationwide.”


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John Rosenthal in The Weekly Standard, "The Secret History of Climate Alarmism".

“American criticism of the protocol has typically focused on the pass given to major industrializing nations like China and India. The treaty creates no concrete obligations for so-called developing countries. Only the 39 countries named in Annex I of the framework convention are assigned emissions reduction or limitation targets. All other parties to the agreement got, in effect, a free ride. Indeed, some are even paid to ride....

But the fact is that even many Annex I countries have no obligation to reduce their emissions under the Kyoto arrangements. Some are even expressly permitted to increase them. This group includes not only Australia and Norway, but also, thanks to an ancillary agreement, several EU member states. Others are only required to keep their emissions stable. Still others are assigned nominal emissions reduction targets, which, however, on closer inspection turn out to be de facto licenses to increase their emissions. Perhaps most remarkably of all, Germany—the would-be pacesetter in the global effort to reduce emissions—ended up having at most only a relatively trivial reduction requirement under Kyoto.

To understand how this could be so—and, above all, how it could have been so widely overlooked—we should return to the German commission of inquiry’s report and consider the date of its submission. October 2, 1990. One day later, German reunification took place. When the commission proposed its ambitious target of a 30 percent reduction in CO2 emissions for Germany and other ‘economically strong industrialized countries,’ the inevitable demise of East Germany’s highly inefficient, enormously carbon-intensive industries was already underway....

According to official statistics, from 1990 to 1995 CO2 emissions in the eastern German states fell by a whopping 44 percent.”


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Kerry Brown and Loh Su-hsing at opendemocracy.net, "China’s next elite: 2012 and beyond".

“In democratic states there are political parties, government and opposition, left and right currents, and open media. In the world’s last major one-party state none of this applies. In recent years, analysts of China have come to employ notions of ‘populists’ and ‘elitists’, and affiliation to particular factions (such as the ‘Shanghai group’). But these markers seem less reliable today. In part this is because China’s current generation of leaders seem more homogenous than any previous one. These leaders have no experience of pre-1949 China; are products of the cultural-revolution era of 1966-76; and are wholly formed by the culture of the Chinese Communist Party. The overall result is an appearance of facelessness and uniformity. The most distinctive feature in its way is one that actually links China to the west: the rule of technocrats is ending, and that of lawyers and political scientists coming to ascendancy.”


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Thomas Frank’s column in the WSJ, "The Economic Crisis: Lessons Unlearned", isn’t better than his usual but it is his last so perhaps worth noting. The Baffler’s founder came of age at Univ of Chicago but doesn’t seem to remember the eighties, nor the seventies, though he wrote with complete confidence in his knowledge of New Deal history and Keynesianism. He’ll go far at a normal publication but the two year stint at the WSJ begs a number of questions. His successor, Al Hunt, did reporting, in addition to reminding the Journal’s readers how, if not what, the left thought. Perhaps the WSJ thought they’d appeal to the youngsters.

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Dan Rostenkowski’s last thoughts by Carol Felsenthal in Chicago mag.

“On John Kennedy’s re-election chances in 1964 and his short presidency:

I think he would have had a problem. Jack Kennedy took his wife to Dallas [on November 22, 1963 when he was assassinated] because they were having a problem with support. College campuses were really turning conservative. I don’t think Illinois would have gone for Jack Kennedy the second time…. Aside from Camelot and a wonderfully delicate, beautiful wife, tell me what else he did.”


John Kass on Rostenkowski’s Chicago in the CT.

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Thanks to Patrick Baldwin, Glen Friedman, Jack Endino.





















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• The New Vulgate
• Joe Carducci, Chris Collins, James Fotopoulos, Mike Vann Gray, David Lightbourne
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