The Fifty Foot Blogger

Sabbatical

2010-03-29T00:45:00.003-05:00

If you're a regular reader, thank you. I'm out of steam lately, and want to take a little vacation from blogging. Perhaps for a month, perhaps for much longer. If I post in the near future, it will be visual work, only.

Photos! Maybe even actual art.

I'm excited. See you in the funny papers.

Sunday Music: Happy St. Patrick's Day with the Pogues and the Dubliners

2010-03-14T01:30:00.005-06:00

Ronnie Drew of the Dubliners

I saw the Pogues at the Chicago Metro sometime in the late 80's, at the instigation of my neighbor Jennifer. A lot of neo-traditional Irish music seemed insipid and new-age to me, but these guys threw some punk into the genre. It's a damn good fit. Shane MacGowan was already in a punk band--the Nipple Erectors--when he met Spider Stacy in a London tube station. They named themselves Pogue Mahone, which roughly translates from Gaelic as "Kiss my ass." Performing here with the legendary Ronnie Drew and his Dubliners, MacGowan does OK for someone who appears to be outrageously drunk. Drew, who brought traditional Irish music back into the charts in the 1960's, was also the handsomest man with a white beard since God, Himself. I confess I felt a little crush while watching this clip.

Back to that show at the Metro. It was well before the Hibernian economic revival known as the "Irish Tiger." In short, there were a lot of Irish immigrants in the audience: big, rough men who probably had spent all day working non-union construction. I just remember one moment when they were all chanting in unison, like it was a football match. As we were leaving, one man wanted to hug us, which we somehow deflected.

On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts
And we called her the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
Seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails,
In the hold of the Irish Rover.

There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for his set
He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk
As he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance
And he sailed in the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

For a sailor its' always a bother in life
It's so lonesome by night and by day
That he longs for the shore
and a charming young whore
Who will melt all his troubles away
Oh, the noise and the rout
Swillin' poiteen and stout
For him soon the torment's over
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid
An old salt from the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
And that whale of a crew
Was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock
Oh Lord! what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of The Irish Rover

Irish Soul: Experiencing Shane MacGowan and the Pogues [Link]
The Pogues, a very drunk interview [Link]
Ronnie Drew (Obituary, Guardian UK) [Link]

Sunday Music: The Madison

2010-03-07T23:38:00.003-06:00

I've been out of music listening mode the last two weeks, but rummaged around in my YouTube favorites for a few long-neglected clips.

The Madison Dance was invented by William "Bubbles" Holloway at the LVA Club in Columbus, Ohio, in 1957. It was picked up by a dance/variety show in Baltimore in 1960, and the craze soon spread across the country. The Madison was lovingly recreated in the 1988 film Hairspray, directed by Baltimore native John Waters. The song which is most associated with the dance today is "The Madison" by the Ray Bryant Combo.

The Madison dance eventually spread to Europe, and beyond. It is apparently still a staple of parties in Cambodia. In 1964, in Jean-Luc Godard's film Bande à Part (Band of Outsiders) The Madison is jazzed up with jumps and hand claps. This sequence is just the apogée of cool.

It's Madison Time! (Columbus Music History) [Link]

Sunday Music: More Merle

2010-02-21T22:25:00.005-06:00

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, shall keep Merle Haggard from his appointed rounds. All the above weather conditions were in effect as we struggled out to the Rosemont Theatre to hear Merle play with his buddy, Kris Kristofferson. It was a good show, although it deserved a better venue. The Rosemont, located in a suburb of Chicago near O'Hare airport, has all of the charm of your average mall cineplex. More relevant, the sound was awful--county fairgrounds quality. The place is a hole and should be razed.

Kristofferson, who never was much of a vocalist, still couldn't sing. When he started in on "Me and Bobby McGee," it was unrecognizable through the first verse. On the other hand, Haggard's voice was still beautiful, especially considering that he's in his 70s and has had part of a lung removed. Also notable was the guitar-picking of 17 year-old son, Benion. The kid is phenomenal!

Merle Haggard had 38 number-one hits on the country charts. Naturally, he couldn't perform every hit in one evening. He skipped this, one of my favorites.

Sunday Music: Soul Train

2010-02-14T20:46:00.007-06:00

The very best time to enjoy Soul Train was, at least for teenaged me, when my folks were out of the house. Then, I could move furniture to the periphery of the living room and commence to bust some moves. It's a wonder I didn't bust a lamp or my own spinal column while attempting dances like the Electric Boogaloo.

Although Soul Train started in Chicago, the visual appeal of the show really took off after it was syndicated and moved to studios in Los Angeles. And, the early 70s was a golden era for street fashion--people raided their parent's closets for WWII-era platform shoes, zoot suits and uniforms, and combined this nostalgic attire with sports gear and truly outlandish hair. I chose the following clip of the "line dance" of Soul Train in part because of the inclusion of some excellent B-boy moves, and in part because the outfits are brilliant. What a long, hot fun summer it must have been in 1974, some where far, far from rural Ohio.

Chicago Reader. "Soul Train Local" [Link]

CTA Stories

2010-02-09T17:19:00.004-06:00

The writing on the boxes: "Soul Unpriced" and "Priced Soul." Who knew that Mephistopheles used the Damen bus?

It took me a minute or two to figure out that they were vinyl records, not spirits of the eternally damned.

Sunday Music: Sol Hoopii

2010-02-06T21:30:00.010-06:00

Sol Hoopii points at a ukulele ("jumping flea" in Hawaiian)

When my father was a child in rural Ohio, some time between 1915 and 1925, he saw a group of Hawaiian musicians perform. I always found that extraordinary, although I had no reason to disbelieve him. As it turns out, native Hawaiian Joseph Kekuku, widely believed to be the inventor of the steel guitar, had been touring the U.S. since 1904. And, he wasn't the only Hawaiian musician or musical style capturing imaginations here in the states. The ukulele, an adaption of a small Portuguese instrument, became all the rage in vaudeville as well as in middle-class parlors. Hawaiian steel lap guitar, ukulele and "slack-key" guitar (tuning the instrument to a slack, un-fingered chord) cross-pollinated the genres of ragtime, jazz and hillbilly music. Some point to Kekuku for his influence on helping turn the latter into modern country, thanks to exposing white musicians to the steel guitar.

Just some delightful postcards of old Hawai'i

Of all the Hawaiian lap steel guitarists, Sol Hoopii was considered to be one of the greatest. Born Solomon Ho'opi'i Ka'ai'ai in Honolulu in 1902, Hoopii came to the United States mainland when still a teenager. Hoopii was accomplished at blending the Hawaiian sound with a sprightly, Hot Club de France-style jazz. In 1938, he became a born-again Christian, and devoted himself to mostly playing gospel standards.

Sol Hoopii and the group The Royal Samoans (which apparently was somewhat pan-Polynesian in makeup) also contributed music to a 1932 Max Fleischer animated short, "Betty Boop's Bamboo Isle." This animation is surprising in so many ways. First, the music is a sneak-attack of wonderful, with an opening sequence live song and hulu dance. Lest you think it's an early multicultural homage, the cartoon itself includes hostile dark-skinned natives with exaggerated lips. Near the end, there are two animated dance sequences which use rotoscoping, or tracing animation directly over filmed sequences. Betty does the hulu while looking eerily naturalistic, with the exception of her giant cartoon head.

Overheard: TMI

2010-02-05T21:48:00.005-06:00

Cell phone convo, bench in Jackson station of the Blue Line:

"Sheila? Yeah...I'm on my way to Momma's. I got to tell her something bad. Yeah, something bad happened. I THINK I GOT HERPES! HER-PES. It had to be Corey. [long pause] I don't know for sure...but girl, it LOOKS like herpes."

Sunday Music: Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann

2010-01-31T21:51:00.010-06:00

I just got back from seeing my friends Bric-a-Brac, who were opening for the Swedish hip-hop act Movits! Bric-a-Brac is known for covering the kitschy and obscure from 1950s and 1960s pop. One of the songs on tonight's set list was "The Shape of Things to Come,"from 1968's youthsploitation movie Wild in The Streets. I'll transcribe the lobby card above to give you a gist of the plot:

This is the story of Max Frost, 24 years old...President of The United States...who created the world in his own image. To him, 30 is over the hill. 52 percent of the nation is under 25...and they've got the power. That's how he became President. This is perhaps the most unusual motion picture you will ever see!

Part of President Frost's platform is to lower the voting age to 14. After his election, people over 35 are rounded up and forced to take LSD. Wild in The Streets also features appearances by Shelly Winters, Richard Pryor, Peter Tork, Bobby Sherman and a pre-Brady Bunch Barry Williams. [Ed.~ I have to get this movie! Who wants to watch it with me?]

In addition to an embarrassment of cameo wealth, the movie has a good soundtrack. The best song is the apocalyptic-sounding "Nothing Can Change the Shape of Things to Come," by the fictional Max Frost and the Troopers. I guess this is his State of the Union address.

Max Frost - Shape Of Things To Come
Explore more music videos.

The song was penned by one of the most prolific songwriting teams in pop music, Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann. For the past 50 years, they've written hits tailored for nearly every genre and fashion in pop music: "We Gotta Get Out of This Place" (The Animals), "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" (The Righteous Brothers, co-written with Phil Spector), "Kicks" (Paul Revere and The Raiders), "Here You Come Again" (Dolly Parton), and a few hundred more. I think their work in the latter half of 1960s was especially good, like "Love is Only Sleeping," performed here by the Monkees.

History of Rock: Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil [Link]

Wild in The Streets trailer [Link]

Bric-a-Brac on Chic-A-Go-Go [Link]

Sunday Music: The Wrens

2010-01-24T01:13:00.005-06:00

Last weekend, I saw The Wrens at the legendary indie rock venue The Middle East, in Cambridge, MA. I was in Boston for a conference, and stayed in a hotel in Cambridge--mostly because I nearly always prefer to lodge away from conference territory. There's just something to be said for being able walk through the lobby in sweaty yoga pants or eating a banana or some other vaguely unprofessional-appearing activity and knowing there's minimal risk of running into an acquaintance.

A couple of train things: Boston is rotten with fancy universities, which must explain the astounding number of ads for medical research participants. These are usually posted in the "T" and open their pitches with rather personal questions. "Are you shy?" "Do you have irritable bowel syndrome?" My favorite went something like this: "Do you sometimes mistake noises for voices? Are you antisocial and have few or no friends? If so, and you are a male between 18-65...(etc.)" I wondered who would step up for that one. Also while on the train, we passed a HUGE crowd outside of Northeastern University. It was the Coakley Senate race rally, featuring a very special guest, Barack Obama. A man with a classic Southie accent pointed at a line winding down two city blocks. "They ahhnt gonna get in. It's already ovah capacity!" Unfortunately, Coakley was the one actually representing the Democratic ticket, and we know how that went.

I would like to pretend to be cool enough to have known about The Wrens for...oh, at least six years, since the release of their last album, The Meadowlands (2003). Honestly, I didn't hear about them until very recently, and attended the show on the recommendation of a friend. Founded by four Jersey boys back in 1989, the band was stalled early by label troubles and endless A&R nitpicking. The Wrens are now middle-aged and have day jobs (I've been told that one of them is a sales rep for Pfizer), and appear to be thriving in this new world of indie marketing and social media. Saturday's show was consistent with their reputation for intense live performances, with the audience joining them on stage for the final encore.

The following is fan video, accompanying "She Sends Kisses," from The Meadowlands album. Charles Bissell's lyrics, about the girl who sends mixed messages, are great.

The show ended well after midnight. It was then that I discovered that the trains, unlike in Chicago, do not run all night. Hailing a cab proved futile, so I started to walk back to my hotel, located just south of the MIT campus. It was cold, and the streets of Cambridge were nearly empty. In the darkness, three men were struggling to carry something round and about three feet wide. A tabletop? That seemed an odd errand early on a winter morning. When I was a little closer, I could see that it was actually some sort of complicated puzzle or structure made out of interlocking pieces of brown cardboard. I instantly thought "MIT," but perhaps I'm giving Harvard geeks short shrift. I still wonder why they had to smuggle it across campus at nearly 2 am.

The Wrens Bio (official site) [Link]

In memory of Red

2010-01-09T16:10:00.007-06:00

I took down all the Christmas decorations today. Normally a melancholy task, it was made more solemn by loss of our little cat, Red. He died suddenly this morning of a cardiac arrest. He was only five or six years old, but had a weak heart--probably from earlier malnutrition. He started life as an alley cat, a kitten roaming with his mother and brother. Gradually, his little family disappeared. Alone, he would pace the alley and caterwaul mournfully. "Where are you? Why have you left me?" he seemed to cry. We lured him into the house after noticing that a cut on his foot had become infected. He gradually unwilded, and gave himself up to the imperfect love of humans. Red grew to relish some pleasures of domestication, such as belly rubs and slices of avocado. Still, he would at times pace the darkened house, awakening us with his cries. "It's OK boy, we're right here," we called out, and he would grow quiet.

For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness
he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit
without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he's a good Cat.

An excerpt from Jubilate Agno", Christopher Smart (1722-1771)

Santa, c'est moi

2010-01-02T19:51:00.011-06:00

This year, Santa was very, very good to me. Every gift was charming, unique and tailored to my particular sense of aesthetics. That's right: I self-gifted. My family agreed to stop exchanging presents a few years ago. However, a robust strain of Puritan shame and reflexive self-denial kept me from buying anything more extravagant than a pair of mittens for myself. Why was this year different? I mostly blame Etsy, the online store for independent crafters and artisans. I just wanted a little art for my bedroom and bath, both of which are getting a new coat of paint. Etsy is a very dangerous website; it is possible to fall in love with dozens of objects during just one session of browsing. To be fair, I also got into some mischief at the Renegade Handmade store and the Pilsen East Artist's Open House. All three are good places to find affordable art. Allow me to spread the love for these crafters and artists, as well as show off my "gifts."

Vintage Illinois map with a native moth. From Real Butterfly Gifts

"We're all in this together." Porcelain wall hanging by Poodlebreath

"Insider 2" and "Manhunter 2" Acrylic on panel, by Fateyes

"Lovebug" Hand embroidered illustration on vintage textile, by Moxie Doll

I also purchased two prints from Andrew Suprenant, a photographer and documentary filmmaker. The prints, aerial views of landscape around and within a Kentucky strip mine, are not included in his set on Flickr. Andrew's production company, 137 Films, recently released Atom Smashers, about the struggles of the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory to stay viable, particularly during the tenure of the notoriously science-hostile Bush administration. It sounds like a good documentary, and my description surely didn't do it justice.

"The U.S. vs. God Particles." Seed Magazine [Link]

Happy New Year

2009-12-31T17:59:00.004-06:00

Goodbye Aughts, and may the next decade be more peaceful and kind.

Happyhappy Joyjoy

2009-12-18T11:59:00.006-06:00

I will be too crazy busy this weekend to post music, and you will be too crazy busy to listen. Have a wonderful last day of Hanukkah or Winter Solstice or Christmas!

Sunday Music: Dan Deacon

2009-12-13T17:31:00.006-06:00

Dan Deacon's equipment setup
Photo by Milo Winningham

Apparently, I am the last person in America to see "Drinking out of Cups," Dan Deacon and Liam Lynch's hilarious CGI animation. In it, a sarcastic lizard with a Long Island accent spends most of the cartoon crudely dismissing random bizarre imagery.

I find Dan Deacon incredibly annoying, seeing how he was born a couple months after I graduated from college, yet has already accomplished enough for several lifetimes. After completing a Master's degree in "Electro-acoustic composition," he moved to Baltimore and founded Wham City, an art and music collective. Wham City helped to revitalize the arts scene in Baltimore, and created a much-needed creative gravitational pull away from Brooklyn.

Deacon's multimedia performances are big fun, with lots of audience participation and dancing, all driven by delirious/demented electro-pop played using vintage electronics and instruments. As a matter of fact, his music is so demented that I'm unsure as to whether it will stand the test of time. I doubt Deacon cares all that much; he's said one of his major influences were the Looney Tunes cartoons, and that he hoped his music would be like that produced by some "really cool six-year-olds." Here he is on local Georgia television, channeling a combination of Alvin & the Chipmunks, The Talking Heads and Mork from Ork.

Dan Deacon: Interview. From The Tape is not Sticky [Link]

Overheard: Generation Y

2009-12-12T20:48:00.006-06:00

College students:
Boy: ...While we were there, we went to the Reagan Presidential Library.
Girl: Really?
Boy: Yeah! They have a big piece of the Berlin Wall with graffiti and stuff.
Girl: Cool!
Boy: We watched this clip of him saying "Tear down this wall," and there was a thing for little kids where they could build a wall out of blocks and knock it down. It was really cute.
Girl: Reagan was cool.
[Talk shifts to games]
Girl: I like playing dude games!
Boy: Ha ha...then you've played Frank's Adventure?
Girl: No...I don't think so.
Boy: Oh you'd love it! This guy has to get naked pics of girls but they're all cokeheads, so he has to score some coke first. It's really funny!

Editor's note: I found this game online, but could never figure out how to make money to buy the coke.

"

Sunday Music: Laura Nyro

2009-11-22T16:00:00.007-06:00

I picked up a stack of music last week, including a compilation of Dusty Springfield's A and B sides, and Laura Nyro's 1971 album with Labelle, Gonna Take a Miracle. While listening to the first, I found an article by Springfield's former lover, Canadian rocker Carol Pope. Although she never formerly came out as a lesbian, Dusty Springfield's attraction to women was the stuff of industry gossip. Gifted, yet wildly insecure, she drank and caroused her way out of her relationship with Pope. At the end of the piece, Pope described attending her funeral with her manager and friend, Vicki Wickham, who had introduced the two lovers.

Wickham is an intriguing person: a closeted (for most of her career) lesbian who made it in the mostly-male business of pop music. At the age of 20, she produced and booked one of the first television pop music shows in England, Ready, Steady, Go!". Wickham became a sought-after manager and producer. When she took on Labelle, a 60's girl group, she persuaded them to wear outlandish silver spacesuits and record "Lady Marmalade." It was an extremely successful re-branding, and the song hit #1 on the Billboard charts in 1975.

So what's this have to do with Laura Nyro? Singer/songwriter Nyro was only 17 when she sold her first hit, "And When I Die," to Peter, Paul and Mary. Although she was marketed as a folk singer, her soul and jazz-inflected style didn't always sit well with folk audiences. Nyro also disliked the grind of touring and record promotion. Her best songs become hits for other artists, like The 5th Dimension. Albums such as Eli and the Thirteenth Confession (1968) and New York Tendaberry (1969) had a limited audience when released, but influenced many later songwriters and performers. In 1970, Vicki Wickham introduced Patti LaBelle to Laura Nyro, and the two became close friends. Nyro and members of Labelle recorded Gonna Take a Miracle, an album of Motown covers. Nyro left and then returned to the music business twice between 1972 and 1984. Even devoted fans felt that her best work was behind her. She died of ovarian cancer in 1997, survived by a son and a female partner.

"Ready, Vicki, Go." The Guardian [Link]

"Laura Nyro, Intense Balladeer of the 60's and 70's, Dies at 49" The New York Times [Link]

Sunday Music: We Five

2009-11-15T20:13:00.000-06:00

This is a live performance on Hollywood Palace (c.1965), a variety show that was guest-hosted each week. It seems a waste of Fred Astaire to have him introducing pop groups. We Five's hit song, "You Were On My Mind," was penned by Canadian folksinger Sylvia Tyson, of Ian & Sylvia.

Sunday Music: Arthur Russell

2009-11-08T15:57:00.003-06:00

The very thought of trying to write a "short" bio of the late Arthur Russell makes me feel so tired, I want to lie down. The following pretty much sums up his career: when Russell died, he left behind over a thousand tapes of his own work. At least 40 of those were just different mixes of the same song. Prolific and protean, he wrote and recorded avant-garde string music, proto-house-techno, modernist disco fusion and his own brand of eccentric, sweet pop. I included clips of two of the latter, his most accessible music. The playlist beneath has some examples of the other genres.

Russell was part of the New York downtown scene during the heyday of punk and new wave, and was a friend and collaborator with Allen Ginsberg, Philip Glass and David Byrne, among others. His life was tragically cut short by AIDS, in 1992. In recent years, Audika Records has released several albums of his work.

Audika Records: Come to Life. Arthur Russell [Link]

Arthur Russell Playlist: Get Around To It (4:59)/Sketch for the Face of Helen (2:38)/Let's Go Swimming (7:58)/Terrace of Inintelligibility Part 2 (9:31)

[Link]

Brainworm: Visqueen

2009-11-06T05:42:00.000-06:00

This week, I've had a new brainworm--that is, a song I just can't get out of my head. Unlike the Starship selection, this a good brainworm. The song is "Ward" from Seattle band Visqueen's new album, Message to Garcia. Any resemblance of frontwoman Rachel Flotard's vocals to Neko Case are not entirely accidental. They are buddies, and Neko makes a guest appearance on a few of the tracks.

[Listen]

Please take time to visit the website of their hometown radio station KEXP, which provided this clip. KEXP's live stream and podcasts keep me rockin' through those long afternoons.

Buy Message to Garcia at Amazon [Link]

Sunday Music: Sixto Rodriguez

2009-11-01T01:20:00.002-05:00

Forgotten geniuses. In the last half-century, the U.S. music industry has created quite a few of these. Is it my imagination, or do many of these rediscovered artists happen to not be white? One thing is clear: minority performers weren't cut much slack when it came to eccentric or difficult behavior. At an industry showcase in 1970, singer-songwriter Sixto Rodriguez invited a member of the Brown Berets, a Hispanic activist organization similar to the Black Panthers, to join him on stage. His revolutionary fervor did him no favors with the recording industry executives in the audience. Mediocre sales, in addition to his being "unmarketable," led to his being dropped by his label.

Rodriguez was born the sixth child of a Mexican-American family in Detroit. A gifted lyricist, he wrote songs that were political without being polemic. The album Cold Fact (1970), which sold poorly in the U.S., was exactly right for the political climate of South Africa. Rodriguez became somewhat of a legend in S.A. and Australia, even touring with the Aussy group Midnight Oil in the early 80s. It took about 30 years for his reputation to catch up in the country of his birth. Here's "Sugar Man," with a lovely psychedelic video that somewhat belies the desolation of the lyrics.

Cold Fact-A Retrospective (from Sugarman.org) [Link]

"Sixto Rodriguez: the rock'n'roll Lord Lucan" [Link]

Chicago Snapshots

2009-10-24T21:29:00.012-05:00

The sunflower that ate Chicago

Elston Avenue, at sunset

The first four photographs were filtered using the iPhone application CameraBag. Photos 1-3 are from the Forgotten Chicago tour of west Pilsen and Little Village. These neighborhoods are largely un-gentrified, and remind me of how the north side of Chicago looked when I first moved here, in 1984. Photo number 2 is an old Schlitz "tied" house. Tied houses were possibly the first franchise concept ever: a tavern where everything from the product and interior furnishings, to the building itself, were supplied by one brewer. The prohibition killed these off, and laws afterwards prevented brewers from owning taverns.

A cluster of Schlitz and Stege brewery houses still stand within blocks of each other in the Pilsen/Little Village area. As we took pictures of a former Stege house, a trio of middle-school-aged girls hung out of the windows of an apartment building across the street. "Is this a famous bar?!!" one of them asked, since a crowd of white people with cameras is not exactly a common sight in Little Village. I tried to explain that it was sorta famous, in the context of things. The girls gazed on at the tavern with a new reverence.

"Tied Houses" Forgotten Chicago. [Link]

Sunday Music: Starship

2009-10-18T14:07:00.015-05:00

This gentleman is Vincent Falk, aka Suit Man, Fashion Man or "Riverace." He has only partial eyesight. His day job is as a computer programmer, but after work he stands on the State Street bridge and peacocks wildly colorful attire at passing tour boats. If you ever happen upon him, take a moment to chat and be subjected to some of the corniest jokes outside of a Bazooka Joe gum wrapper. I was kind of down the day I took this photo, but he had me laughing out loud. I asked him where he gets his suits. Roberto's, of course! Roberto's Men and Boys Clothing is the mens' apparel outlet for street-corner preachers and aficionados of "Purple Rain" co-star Morris Day. If you need a fuchsia satin frock coat or an electric-blue fedora, Roberto's can hook you up. The Roberto's store building also has the distinction of being voted one of the "10 Ugliest Buildings in the Loop" by the Chicago Tribune.

I took Suit Man's picture with my iPhone. I just love the iPhone app CameraBag, which allows you to apply filters that can change your photo's appearance to that of an older camera or print process. The top snap is "Lolo," (Lomo) followed by "1974," which captures the washed-out quality of of Dad's Instamatics from that era. Others that I like are "Helga" (Holga) and the b&w "1962" filter. I'll put some of the other filtered pics in my next post.

As I struggled to come up with a topic for today's post, I kept humming a song chorus that had become a persistent brainworm.

We built this city
We built this city on Rock an' Roll!
Built this city
We built this city on Rooock an' Roooll!

Oh dear God...I have had to listen to this song twice a week for the last two months. That's every time I take my fitness bootcamp class. Appropriately enough, I am starting to associate it with physical pain.

"We Built This City," was released in 1985 by Starship, a band that was formed by a couple of Jefferson Airplane...meh, who cares? The song, which is very catchy despite having ridiculously bombastic lyrics that sound like they were penned by someone with a brain injury (i.e, Bernie Taupin), made #1 on the Billboard charts. I didn't have cable in 1985, so perhaps that explains why I have no memory of this hilarious music video. A couple of observations: Grace Slick has never looked worse. Also, if I was the director, I damn well would have gotten more for my money out of the Abe Lincoln statue impersonator. How about having Abe break dance or something? He also should have had a second appearance in the video, perhaps running in front of the giant die.

In closing, as the wise t-shirt said, "A city built on rock and roll would be structurally unsound."

Vincent: A Life in Color [Link]

Roberto's Building (Chicago Architecture Info) [Link]

Run for your life! It's the 50 worst songs ever! [Link]

Fall Back in Fall #2

2009-09-23T16:13:00.004-05:00

Did you notice the sky and the light after sunset on Tuesday? The side of a delivery van, a pile of construction rubble, an empty storefront; they all glowed like coals.

Sunday Music: Fall Back in Fall

2009-09-20T13:53:00.014-05:00

It's Indian summer--that bittersweet junction between seasons, when the Sun rides low in the sky, and 7 o'clock shadows arrive at 4. After a cold and rainy June, July and (most of) August, our garden bears fruit with an air of desperation. Tomatoes appear and abruptly fall off the vine, barely pink. Sunflowers grow several inches each day, collapsing under the weight of their seed heads. Our giant, weak plants are now securely anchored with green garden twine.

September also brings the Hideout Block Party, although this year it was actually the 15th anniversary party for Bloodshot Records, Chicago's venerated alt-country label. I have a personal connection to Bloodshot, since co-founder Nan Warshaw DJ'd at our wedding.

As outdoor festivals go, this one was light on the tchotchke booths. In truth, who needs to see another array of cheap sunglasses and light sticks? Mexican wrestling masks though--perfect!

Moonshine Willy (above) was the first band to sign a single with Bloodshot, back in the alt-country heyday of the mid 1990s. Looking at the audience, most of whom seemed to be in their late 30's and early 40's, one had to wonder whether American music has another country fusion in it. Recently, the influential music blog Aquarium Drunkard declared that the alt-country resurgence from the 1990's was coasting. Certainly alt-country's best talents, like Jeff Tweedy (formerly of Uncle Tupelo), broke away from the genre and went rock at first opportunity.

I have one degree of separation from the hillbilly roots that inspired alt-country. My father grew up in rural Ohio, a place that in the 1930's might as well been Arkansas. He had memories of the first radio in the county, and the momentous year President Roosevelt brought electricity to their little farm. With that improvement, his family could join the thousands of others who listened, each week, to The Grand Ole Opry radio show. Country music had become the soul music of poor, white America.

One wonders whether it is possible to revive roots country with an eye toward progression of the genre. Perhaps the biggest problem facing alt-country is it's audience. They just don't make white people like they used to--people who farmed a few hard-scrabble acres, made white lightening and died of TB (my great-grandparents) or black lung before they reached old age.

There's a dark and a troubled side of life
There's a bright, there's a sunny side, too
Tho' we meet with the darkness and strife
The sunny side we also may view

[From "Keep on the Sunny Side of Life" by the Carter Family]

The true inheritors of my grandparent's lives, poor rural whites, are a shrinking minority in America, and they are more likely to listen to death metal or hip-hop than to alt-country. So, perhaps it is a genre that will both never grow and never die, subject to periodic rediscovery by a people longing for roots.

I'll close with my favorite from the entire day's lineup, The Waco Brothers. Leave it to a Brit, the irrepressible Jon Langford (who I just saw with the Mekons), to recapture the true grit of rockabilly.

Grieving Angel (or, What Happened to alt.Country) at Aquarium Drunkard