Given the parade of bio-pics flooding the big screen lately, it's amazing that nobody has tackled the Clash, also known as The Only Band That Matters (which might make a decent working title, actually). If it does, even money suggests that some director will tap Vince White's book, OUT OF CONTROL:: THE LAST DAYS OF THE CLASH (2007) , for source material -- where they'll find enough backstabbing, drugs, groupies and greed to fuel a mini-series.
Or, as Vince says, after the whole band watches the heavy metal mockumentary, “This Is Spinal Tap”: “Spinal Clash would have made an even better film. It would have to be a black comedy though and it would require some skill to make.” While that possibility has yet to unfold, OUT OF CONTROL's black-humored recounting of the Clash's final two years– which produced the prematurely-titled CUT THE CRAP (1985) – has inspired plenty of tongue-clucking, online and off.
In that spirit, now seemed like a good time to run down what's happened since those initial press runs, as well as the proverbial Next Project, and if it's really possible to ignore the man behind the curtain...whether he lurks behind the mixing board, record label boardroom, or political backroom. See for yourself: the highlights follow. (For more information, see www.vincewhite.com/.)
CHAIRMAN RALPH (CR): It is our appointed hour, so...we'll just start with the general, and work our way outwards. What are some of the notable things that have happened, since it's (OUT OF CONTROL) come out?
VINCE WHITE (VW): I was quite surprised, actually, how good the response was. If you look on amazon.co.uk, there's a whole bunch of reviews up there. That's the only site I'm selling it on, apart from my own site. I thought I'd come in for a lot more stick than what I did.
CR: So, from that standpoint, were you surprised by any of the conclusions that reviewers drew?
VW: The message I've got is one that 99.999 percent of people don't wanna hear. They don't mind hearing that I was lied to, and ripped off, and it was all crazy, and out of control. But implicit in that [idea] is, they've been lied to, and ripped off. See what I'm saying?
People were sending emails (saying), “Great book,” but it seemed like they hadn't actually read the book, or at least they hadn't read between the lines. I think they just saw it as a bit of a rock 'n' roll story.
CR: Because it would be easy to take the rock 'n' roll story, and forget about the other subtexts going on...
VW: Well, I deliberately wrote it in that sense. I didn't want it to be some academic trawl through the history, you know? The idea of a culture industry brings up why this band has been separated from every other as being “the band that matters.” You answer that to me, because there's something implied in that statement.
CR: Well, I think – it's because they've (listeners) assumed there was an underlying intellectual edge to this (music) all along, and have sort of embellished on it.
VW: Well, I think that's fairly true – it's just that the intellectual edge isn't the one that people think it is. OK, the way I'd sort of sum it up is...consciously or unconsciously...we don't have a culture – it's an entertainment industry. It's a system, a business. It's all just phony. It's standard, manufactured, you know what I mean? I think people see the Clash as something separate from that, as kind of a street band – that it's authentic culture, it comes from the bottom up.
CR: Sure.
VW: You've got a band that's being backed by this giant conglomerate, corporate structure (in CBS Records, now Sony), calling itself anti-establishment. Something is a contradiction, don't you think? I mean, the band couldn't be there unless it's authorized to be there.
CR: You have the quote by (CBS executive) Maurice Oberstein, and I'm paraphrasing here: “I didn't see the Clash as a social phenomenon. I simply wanted to get on with making records.”
VW: Well, from being behind the scenes -- seeing how it was put together -- it was pretty orchestrated and planned. There was very little spontaneity in the whole thing. You can argue why they would push something like that so strongly. I mean, a band can't make it that big unless it's heavily promoted. That's just the facts.
CR: I think so, too.
VW: It's about promoting the illusion of a free society, “these rebels speaking up for you” -- the illusion of democracy, that anybody can get up and do it, and become successful.
CR: And, as you alluded to in one of your emails, you did an interview with the BBC, and they cut you off after a minute and a half...
VW: Well, it was an annoying interview, because they tried to steer everything into a very shallow area. You couldn't really get into anything, but I deliberately pushed the conversation towards talking about corporate media. I didn't swear, Ralph, you know? I mentioned Sony, and bang, that was it! I was off the air: “We got to move on.”
CR: What were they trying to ask that was so shallow? Give me an example.
VW: It was so shallow, I can hardly remember – I mean, just lightweight questions. The sort of questions they asked me when I joined (the Clash): “Were you a fan before you joined?” That sort of thing. Nothing of any consequence, but that's the way it is. You see that more and more these days.
CR: Did you have any other experiences like that?
VW: Well, there's the book itself. One of the first things I found is that the big publishing houses have all been bought out, the famous names like Penguin, and Granada. Well, they keep the brand name, but they've all been bought out. And then you have to go from there to independents, very small [publishing houses].
CR: And, as I remember you telling me last time, a lot of them said, “Well, great writing, but you're not part of the original band, and we can't compete with Redemption Song”...
VW: Yeah. Well, that's what my agent said.
CR: So, were you shocked by that, or figure that out after the first go-rounds of turndowns?
VW: No, they send letters. Everything goes very slow in the publishing business, you know? It's (taken) over a year to finally get all those letters through. But it should cause people some concern to know that things are being vetted, and stuff only gets out there if it's approved by the establishment.
CR: So, having said that – how well has the book done?
VW: Well, it depends. How are you gonna value it? In terms of response from people, sales, or whatever? Yeah, it's done all right. If you go through a publishing house, it ends up on the shelves in stores – but you're lucky to see a few pennies on the price. But if I sell it independently, I get to keep control of it.
CR: And you get to keep all the money, which is even better.
VW: Yeah, but – even Amazon, they take 60 percent. I'm not kidding. If you've got a £15 book, they take £9 of that. And out of the remainder, you have to make the books, you have to write the book, you have to do the cover – do all the work.
By the end of it, you're left with maybe £2-3 on each book. It's not that clever – everyone else is taking money except you. You know, they've got it sewn up. I mean, these people know what they're doing.
CR: Absolutely. I imagine this was why we didn't have any photos, correct? Because that would really have bumped up your cost...
VW: Well, I never really saw it as that kind of a book, you know – like a normal rock biog thing with pictures. It's written as a work of art, a piece of literature. If I do another print run, which doesn't seem very likely at the moment, I'll probably put cartoons in it. I'll draw them myself. You know, drawings that look cool.
CR: I would love to see that. So what's the next book?
VW: It'd be about my experience in the art world. I went to art college some years back. I wrote an art blurb for my website, and that triggered off a few ideas. I could expand on that quite a lot, do it in the same style (as OUT OF CONTROL) – but include some cultural markers, a commentary on what's going on, from my point of view.
CR: Well, my wife – being an artist – has commented that the art world often seems as manufactured as the entertainment world.
VW: Yeah, it's all part of the same kind of agenda.
CR: So, do we have an idea when this is going to come out, or are you simply just doing it as you go along?
VW: Well, I haven't started it. I've had a year off from doing any arty things. I've got a '65 Mustang, and I've been restoring it. I've put a new top on it, new carpet, and it's looking pretty good – you have to come over, dude.
CR: Oh, absolutely. I really want to see how things have changed in London, and the UK...
VW: Oh, man, it's incredible – it really is off the charts. I got thrown off the tube the other day...
CR: Because?
VW: (For) drinking a beer! Well, they have their little wars, you see? They've started on the smoking – you can't smoke anywhere – now they're coming down on the alcohol. The thing is, they didn't put any signs up.
If they're going to change the rules, I think people need to be told. It's not that I couldn't have a drink. I wasn't bothered. If anyone didn't want me to drink, I won't.
CR: At least let folks know...
VW: I started to argue with them – I pulled my ticket out, paid eight quid, or whatever...and the (transit cop) just grabbed me by the arm -- big guy, you know? He just started lifting me up the stairs, and threw me out of the Baker Street tube station, out on the street! I couldn't believe it! This is the new freedom in Britain, man.
CR: Right. Of course, that's been their “get out” clause to expand all this massive federal power.
VW: Well, yeah – just a lot of surveillance, and police becoming more high-profile everywhere. You're seeing police powers being given to lower and lower functionaries. You've got a whole new bunch of people called community service officers walking around. They started up a few years ago, they're more arrogant now, and they can stop you. Even the traffic wardens are gonna get police powers soon...
CR: Really?
VW: Yeah – everyone's gonna be spying on everyone else soon. It's just like the fucking Soviet Union. Because effectively, we're now in the EU, and all the directors come from that, which is a bunch of bureaucrats – they're not even elected. Don't worry, you'll have it in the U.S. soon (laughs). Was there anything else you want to know about?
CR: I'm assuming, this (book) is your way of moving on (from the Clash) – yet they're (fans) always going to put that association in front of your name. Do you see that as a hindrance?
VW: No, no! I'm never gonna say the Clash didn't rock! I mean, that was a great band to play in. The music and the songs were good. My interest is in the business around it, how that kind of fits together, the way people perceived it, and how the whole culture industry works.
It's the same, like you said, with the art thing. You've got something like Damien Hirst, or one of these artists that becomes really successful – you really think they're making it on their merits? I can't believe that. See, I just see that they're put there.
CR: Yeah, because you see their name mentioned a lot of times, and somebody else's not mentioned as much – or not mentioned at all.
VW: Well – all the art of the last century has been systematically taking away any kind of inherent aesthetics. They're just trying to make things more debased as possible. I mean, you can't make it in the art world, unless you're doing something really disgusting. That's what I see –a debasement of the whole thing.
CR: Is there a particular school (of art) that you're drawn to, more than the others?
VW: No, not really. I mean, one of the things I like doing is just experimenting, and playing with a whole different bunch of things. I don't really have what you call a style. When I went to the (art college) interview, there was a panel, and they dismissed it: “Well, this work could be made by a whole bunch of different people.” I wasn't manufacturing a style, do you know what I mean? That's the way they think.
CR: Well, you've done a couple of your own shows, haven't you?
VW: Yeah, but in terms of the book, I'm more interested in looking at it from a cultural perspective – rather than, “This is my art.” You don't make it in any part of this system unless you're funded heavily in one way or another. Nothing comes from the grass roots. It just doesn't. People need to understand that – it's like the Guggenheim Foundation. They pick you. They decide who they're gonna make stars, who they're gonna make famous...
CR: Right, who's going to be worthy...
VW: They don't make it on their own merits. And I think you can apply that right across the board – through the music industry, and everything. And that ties in with the Clash. You can enjoy the music, but I wouldn't take it too seriously, because it's not what you think it is – that's all I'm trying to say.
It's even more pronounced in the art world, because it's even more subjective. At least with music, you can listen to it, get an immediate feeling about it. Art is a little bit more intellectual – you can bullshit with it, basically. The more educated and cultured people are, the more they get taken for a ride, it seems to me.
A pile of bricks in a gallery, what the hell is that? You can pontificate about it for hours: the joke's on them. That guy who bought the Damien Hirst skull – that was his most expensive piece. It's worth millions. Diamonds on a skull? (Note: check out Hirst's Wikipedia entry for a juicy discussion of this piece.) If there's a massive depression, and the supermarket shelves are empty, he (the buyer) can sell it, and get his money back.
RH: Hopefully, he took all that stuff into account...but, going back to the Clash – the tone was set from the first audition...which was an “American Idol”-type audition, wasn't it? So (Clash manager) Bernie (Rhodes) was ahead of his time, I guess.
VW: Well, Bernie – that guy is just so incredibly secretive. I mean, there are very few photographs of him. You've got to ask yourself, what's this guy got to hide? I'd like to know what organizations he's affiliated with.
My point (to listeners) is, just think a bit outside the box – what they're putting in their heads, as far as music and culture goes, and question it. When you're young, you don't wanna be bothered with stuff like that. you just want to enjoy yourself. You don't think about what's going on behind this...like you say, it's who's behind the curtain, pushing the levers.
“IT'S WHO'S BEHIND THE CURTAIN”: VINCE WHITE SPEAKS (ROUND TWO, 11/09/09)
Comments (0) ... Leave a comment
KEN WALDMAN DISCUSSES HIS BOOK, “ARE YOU FAMOUS?"
Passion is one thing: making a business out of your talent is an entirely different matter. The arts are littered with the roadkill of unsung heroes who never broke out, never found their audience, never got their due, however you phrase it. But there are always exceptions, of which one is Ken Waldman, “Alaska's Fiddling Poet.”
Since taking the plunge as a full-time musician in 1995, Waldman has released six poetry collections, and seven CDs, which you can find through his official site, www.kenwaldman.com/. However, I'm focusing on Waldman's first memoir, ARE YOU FAMOUS?: TOURING AMERICA WITH ALASKA'S FIDDLING POET (Catalyst Book Press: 2008), which tickled my synapses for three reasons.
First, I didn't have enough room to discuss the book in my two local newspaper interviews with Ken, so it only seemed fitting to do so here. Second, there's a lot of straightforward advice that will benefit anybody else in the trenches (see Chapter Five, “Two Gigs And A Tour,” for just one example).
Third, even if you're not a performer, you'll find plenty of foibles here to amuse you – such as when Ken calls his local bookstore in Anchorage, to see if they'll stock his work. He's swiftly routed to the corporate office, where – after a go-nowhere conversation – learns that he's talking to some guy changing lightbulbs!
But Ken remains unbowed, despite his run-ins with the “usual suspects” -- clueless agents, tone deaf art bureaucracies, indifferent bookstores – that he so memorably describes. Here's some of the highlights of our conversation. (For more information, visit www.kenwaldman.com/, or www.catalystbookpress.com.)
“MY JOB IS GETTING OTHER JOBS”
CHAIRMAN RALPH (CR): As I remember, when we talked last time, you said: “My job is getting other jobs.” And so, certainly, that part of it doesn't have seem to have changed, especially from reading your book...
KEN WALDMAN (KW): Oh, yeah, that's part of it – it's the same work, whether you're making $50, $500 or $5,000.
CR: Very true. So, having said that, what was the basic motivation for writing it [ARE YOU FAMOUS] in the first place?
KW: I had a window of time – this was June 2005. I had a whole month. In my case, I thought, “If I can just stay on top of this, day in and day out, I can finish something.” I kind of just gutted it out. I thought I had something to share, and the response has been really positive. But it's a tough world out there, with a small press. This was the first book that they'd ever done. I'm not a big name.
CR: The stuff that's most resonant is when you talk about the collisions you've had with the publishing industry [such as a New York agent who decided against taking Waldman's work].
KW: His response wasn't surprising, given the agency. But he read it, and said, “Look, people will ask, 'Who's this guy?', and I've got nothing to say, I can't sell it.” That may be part of it – there's the haves and the have-nots, you know?
I''m applying for teaching jobs, actually – I have six books of poetry, I have this memoir...but you find that six poetry books and a memoir can get trumped by one book with the right publisher, and this book isn't very good. You have a major publisher, or you have that platform, but it doesn't matter if the quality of the work is not even [readable].
I had kind of a crazy response from a library district. Some libraries have some money, and do summer reading programs. I sent a decent packet to the supervisor, and then the answer comes: “We don't have the budget, and we don't think there's really a fit.” There's a library, a summer of being creative – I'm going, “If that isn't a fit, I don't know what is.”
CR: Right. Or, as you say so memorably in the book, “Fiddling and poetry? Who needs them? Creative, engaged students? Who needs them?”
KW: Yeah, I know. I [once] got an email from somebody I'd met at a conference, their state arts education person. I'd had dinner with this person, sent them a packet, and never heard [anything]. I followed up, and this person said, “Well, I don't think there's any way I can help you.” Maybe it's because their budgets are cut so much, they are unwilling to do something – but what are they doing,, if...
CR: ...if they can't help you?
KW: If they can't, I go, “Well, is the work deficient somehow?” I go, “I don't think so. You just process it, and go on to the next [project]. It still strikes me as kind of weird. My final response is, “Well, I'll write another book,” you know: THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE FIDDLING POET.
CHATS WITH DOUG
RH: So, do you and Doug Yule exchange Christmas cards, now that you've met at the Crocodile [Club]?
KW: I knew him just as a fiddle player in Seattle, and when the book came out in 2000 – my first book, and CD – he was already curious about I was doing. I saw him at a festival, and he says, “I couldn't get your thing.” We've done shows in the past – if I'm doing a show in Seattle, I'll either see if he's available, or other people want to play with him, so he can get word out – because he likes what I do.
RH: One of the more charming anecdotes in your book was running into him in that situation, because he got a bad rap [as the post-Lou Reed Velvet Underground's frontman]. And a lot of people, of course, have written him off ever since.
KW: Yeah. I had a friend who was a big Lou Reed fan, and I go, “Well, he's just somebody that I know.” He got really soured on the music business, because I tell him, “Doug, God – you could use that [VU name] with your string band stuff.” He goes, “No, I'm not gonna do that.”
I say, “Doug, it would make sense – you're doing that string band stuff, to just kind of bank on your name,” and he goes, “No, that's not what I do.” And I go, “OK, I'll respect that, you know?” To me, it seems a no-brainer – hey, the Velvet Underground, it brings people out there.
SOME PARTING WORDS
RH: What would tell anybody who picked up your book, and says, “Wow, this sounds like a pretty exciting, maybe difficult, thing to do, but I'm not deterred, I really wanna do it”?
KW: If they have the self-confidence, let them go ahead and do it. Maybe you learn things to save a few steps – if I look back on it, I don't think I could have done anything differently, and however it ends up, I've done the best I could, I'm doing the best I can, for as long as I can.
RH: Well, the one chapter I could see people borrowing is “Two Gigs And A Tour.” I guess that's the obvious example from the book that comes to mind.
KW: Yeah. How those jobs came into play, and how that tour came into play – everything I'm doing is a variation of that. And sometimes, you see how a single job for a couple thousand dollars for a solo artist was several years in the making. One of the things that you learn is that you can't micro-manage everything. You can contact people, but you know how it is. If somebody doesn't want to return your call...
RH: They don't.
KW: If somebody doesn't want to return your email, you can't make 'em return your email. But then you meet people happy to hear from you, and wonder where you've been their whole life. You do what you can. I don't know what to say, other than, “Keep at it.” When there's a complete obstacle, just go, “OK, work around that,” or try to make something useful.
RH: Work around it as best as you can – and do the best you can, when something like that happens.
KW: Yeah -- it's like the times in Barrow [Alaska]. I remember the first time I went there. Worked at the middle school, stopped at the elementary school, and the principal said, “We don't see ever having a need or interest in you do.” And that guy was gone, and for the next four years, I worked at that elementary school. What does that say? If I hadn't gone the first time, I wouldn't have had that conversation.
RH: You never know.
KW: You never know, man,
Since taking the plunge as a full-time musician in 1995, Waldman has released six poetry collections, and seven CDs, which you can find through his official site, www.kenwaldman.com/. However, I'm focusing on Waldman's first memoir, ARE YOU FAMOUS?: TOURING AMERICA WITH ALASKA'S FIDDLING POET (Catalyst Book Press: 2008), which tickled my synapses for three reasons.
First, I didn't have enough room to discuss the book in my two local newspaper interviews with Ken, so it only seemed fitting to do so here. Second, there's a lot of straightforward advice that will benefit anybody else in the trenches (see Chapter Five, “Two Gigs And A Tour,” for just one example).
Third, even if you're not a performer, you'll find plenty of foibles here to amuse you – such as when Ken calls his local bookstore in Anchorage, to see if they'll stock his work. He's swiftly routed to the corporate office, where – after a go-nowhere conversation – learns that he's talking to some guy changing lightbulbs!
But Ken remains unbowed, despite his run-ins with the “usual suspects” -- clueless agents, tone deaf art bureaucracies, indifferent bookstores – that he so memorably describes. Here's some of the highlights of our conversation. (For more information, visit www.kenwaldman.com/, or www.catalystbookpress.com.)
“MY JOB IS GETTING OTHER JOBS”
CHAIRMAN RALPH (CR): As I remember, when we talked last time, you said: “My job is getting other jobs.” And so, certainly, that part of it doesn't have seem to have changed, especially from reading your book...
KEN WALDMAN (KW): Oh, yeah, that's part of it – it's the same work, whether you're making $50, $500 or $5,000.
CR: Very true. So, having said that, what was the basic motivation for writing it [ARE YOU FAMOUS] in the first place?
KW: I had a window of time – this was June 2005. I had a whole month. In my case, I thought, “If I can just stay on top of this, day in and day out, I can finish something.” I kind of just gutted it out. I thought I had something to share, and the response has been really positive. But it's a tough world out there, with a small press. This was the first book that they'd ever done. I'm not a big name.
CR: The stuff that's most resonant is when you talk about the collisions you've had with the publishing industry [such as a New York agent who decided against taking Waldman's work].
KW: His response wasn't surprising, given the agency. But he read it, and said, “Look, people will ask, 'Who's this guy?', and I've got nothing to say, I can't sell it.” That may be part of it – there's the haves and the have-nots, you know?
I''m applying for teaching jobs, actually – I have six books of poetry, I have this memoir...but you find that six poetry books and a memoir can get trumped by one book with the right publisher, and this book isn't very good. You have a major publisher, or you have that platform, but it doesn't matter if the quality of the work is not even [readable].
I had kind of a crazy response from a library district. Some libraries have some money, and do summer reading programs. I sent a decent packet to the supervisor, and then the answer comes: “We don't have the budget, and we don't think there's really a fit.” There's a library, a summer of being creative – I'm going, “If that isn't a fit, I don't know what is.”
CR: Right. Or, as you say so memorably in the book, “Fiddling and poetry? Who needs them? Creative, engaged students? Who needs them?”
KW: Yeah, I know. I [once] got an email from somebody I'd met at a conference, their state arts education person. I'd had dinner with this person, sent them a packet, and never heard [anything]. I followed up, and this person said, “Well, I don't think there's any way I can help you.” Maybe it's because their budgets are cut so much, they are unwilling to do something – but what are they doing,, if...
CR: ...if they can't help you?
KW: If they can't, I go, “Well, is the work deficient somehow?” I go, “I don't think so. You just process it, and go on to the next [project]. It still strikes me as kind of weird. My final response is, “Well, I'll write another book,” you know: THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE FIDDLING POET.
CHATS WITH DOUG
RH: So, do you and Doug Yule exchange Christmas cards, now that you've met at the Crocodile [Club]?
KW: I knew him just as a fiddle player in Seattle, and when the book came out in 2000 – my first book, and CD – he was already curious about I was doing. I saw him at a festival, and he says, “I couldn't get your thing.” We've done shows in the past – if I'm doing a show in Seattle, I'll either see if he's available, or other people want to play with him, so he can get word out – because he likes what I do.
RH: One of the more charming anecdotes in your book was running into him in that situation, because he got a bad rap [as the post-Lou Reed Velvet Underground's frontman]. And a lot of people, of course, have written him off ever since.
KW: Yeah. I had a friend who was a big Lou Reed fan, and I go, “Well, he's just somebody that I know.” He got really soured on the music business, because I tell him, “Doug, God – you could use that [VU name] with your string band stuff.” He goes, “No, I'm not gonna do that.”
I say, “Doug, it would make sense – you're doing that string band stuff, to just kind of bank on your name,” and he goes, “No, that's not what I do.” And I go, “OK, I'll respect that, you know?” To me, it seems a no-brainer – hey, the Velvet Underground, it brings people out there.
SOME PARTING WORDS
RH: What would tell anybody who picked up your book, and says, “Wow, this sounds like a pretty exciting, maybe difficult, thing to do, but I'm not deterred, I really wanna do it”?
KW: If they have the self-confidence, let them go ahead and do it. Maybe you learn things to save a few steps – if I look back on it, I don't think I could have done anything differently, and however it ends up, I've done the best I could, I'm doing the best I can, for as long as I can.
RH: Well, the one chapter I could see people borrowing is “Two Gigs And A Tour.” I guess that's the obvious example from the book that comes to mind.
KW: Yeah. How those jobs came into play, and how that tour came into play – everything I'm doing is a variation of that. And sometimes, you see how a single job for a couple thousand dollars for a solo artist was several years in the making. One of the things that you learn is that you can't micro-manage everything. You can contact people, but you know how it is. If somebody doesn't want to return your call...
RH: They don't.
KW: If somebody doesn't want to return your email, you can't make 'em return your email. But then you meet people happy to hear from you, and wonder where you've been their whole life. You do what you can. I don't know what to say, other than, “Keep at it.” When there's a complete obstacle, just go, “OK, work around that,” or try to make something useful.
RH: Work around it as best as you can – and do the best you can, when something like that happens.
KW: Yeah -- it's like the times in Barrow [Alaska]. I remember the first time I went there. Worked at the middle school, stopped at the elementary school, and the principal said, “We don't see ever having a need or interest in you do.” And that guy was gone, and for the next four years, I worked at that elementary school. What does that say? If I hadn't gone the first time, I wouldn't have had that conversation.
RH: You never know.
KW: You never know, man,
CHAIRMAN RALPH GRACES CHIRON REVIEW'S ALL-PUNK ISSUE
Back in the summer, I happened to be cyber-rummaging through some assorted writing blogs, when I stumbled on an announcement for CHIRON REVIEW's "All-Punk Issue"...which made my heart skip more than a few beats, because I've never had any trouble connecting punk music with the dark alchemy of lyrics, poetry, spoken word, whatever tag you plan to slap on it...I'm partial to "wordcore," myself.
That marriage is especially meaningful to me, because my first performances occurred in college, and were dedicated to that proposition: combining the velocity of hardcore punk with the power of expression. In particular, the passion pouring out from the likes of Jello Biafra, to D. Boon, John Doe, Exene Cervenka, and Henry Rollins proved a bigger draw than the cynical bar band hackery that gripped East Lansing in such a cold, unforgiving coma (as evidenced by hearing four all too similar versions of "Down By The River" at my favorite coffeehouse performance spot one evening).
Needless to say, these memories were all the motivation I needed for sending something to the "All-Punk Issue," which features three pieces dedicated to the '80s scene. "East Lansing Skate Ritual #49" does exactly what the title says...a tribute to all those times I watched the local skate kids loop-de-loop on their boards outside the (sadly, long-dead) Campus Corners II store. "raw joy (winding up, winding down)" is a salute to the power of seeing the Necros live, only told from the fan's and singer's standpoint ("playing speed-crazed songs for a new generation who never applied for admission to paradise").
"1977 Revisited" pays tribute to the original UK punk scene, when people waited "for our favorite rock 'n' roll highwaymen/To plunder & pillage the town," while its companion piece, "1977 Retrofited" -- which I planned like two sides of a classic 7" single from that era -- is the hangover after the party, 30-odd years later ("Double & triple-digit ticket prices/Somebody's sponsors splashed across those shiny grinning walls/Every time you dare to turn around...in short, all the things we claimed to hate").
More than 30 years later, after those first shots rang out, punk rock ranks among the fiercest musical shots heard round the world. I'm glad to have contributed, in my own small fashion, of which this issue is the only latest humble example! You can get a copy for $7 ($3.50 for contributors) from Chiron Review, 522 E. South Ave., St. John, KS 67576 (check, money order or cash), or via Paypal: poetry_man61@earthlink.net.
That marriage is especially meaningful to me, because my first performances occurred in college, and were dedicated to that proposition: combining the velocity of hardcore punk with the power of expression. In particular, the passion pouring out from the likes of Jello Biafra, to D. Boon, John Doe, Exene Cervenka, and Henry Rollins proved a bigger draw than the cynical bar band hackery that gripped East Lansing in such a cold, unforgiving coma (as evidenced by hearing four all too similar versions of "Down By The River" at my favorite coffeehouse performance spot one evening).
Needless to say, these memories were all the motivation I needed for sending something to the "All-Punk Issue," which features three pieces dedicated to the '80s scene. "East Lansing Skate Ritual #49" does exactly what the title says...a tribute to all those times I watched the local skate kids loop-de-loop on their boards outside the (sadly, long-dead) Campus Corners II store. "raw joy (winding up, winding down)" is a salute to the power of seeing the Necros live, only told from the fan's and singer's standpoint ("playing speed-crazed songs for a new generation who never applied for admission to paradise").
"1977 Revisited" pays tribute to the original UK punk scene, when people waited "for our favorite rock 'n' roll highwaymen/To plunder & pillage the town," while its companion piece, "1977 Retrofited" -- which I planned like two sides of a classic 7" single from that era -- is the hangover after the party, 30-odd years later ("Double & triple-digit ticket prices/Somebody's sponsors splashed across those shiny grinning walls/Every time you dare to turn around...in short, all the things we claimed to hate").
More than 30 years later, after those first shots rang out, punk rock ranks among the fiercest musical shots heard round the world. I'm glad to have contributed, in my own small fashion, of which this issue is the only latest humble example! You can get a copy for $7 ($3.50 for contributors) from Chiron Review, 522 E. South Ave., St. John, KS 67576 (check, money order or cash), or via Paypal: poetry_man61@earthlink.net.