Testing, is this thing on?
Tom has assured me that most of the free world anxiously awaits my first post. Who am I to argue? As some of you already know, my trusty twenty-year old Onkyo Stereo Receiver passed away last week. A trusted audio component, it provided me with years of listening pleasure and much like Joni Mitchell said: you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.
Right now I'm reduced to listening to CDs on a $30 Memorex Cd player. It's great for wading through promotional junk I receive in the mail, but when you finally settle on something worth hearing, it isn't optimum. However, this Jerry Lee Lewis Live at the Star Club 1964 CD is one of the most maniacal things I've ever heard. A friend burned it for me and it must've been a law back in Germany in the 1960s that any performer hitting the Star Club stage had to load up on amphetamine before hitting the stage because this is one fast, angry set. If Elvis Costello and the Attractions circa This Year's Model played boogie-woogie, R&B and rockabilly, this is what it would sound like...
I've had a book recommended to me: How to Stay Idle or something like that...I put an order at the local library, so hopefully when the clown who has it out finally returns it I'll be able to leisurely read a book on a subject so dear to my heart. I do recommend When I Was Cool by Sam Kashner, a very funny recount of a young, earnest beatnik-inspired kid who enrolls as the first student of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa in Colorado. He ends up doing their laundry and "finishing" their poems. An absolute disaster. Fun.
Also, check out Mayor of Sunset Strip, the Rodney Bingenheimer documentary. I'd always assumed he was a major LA tastemaker prick, but no, that's Kim Fowley. Rodney's just a sad old man, who barely hangs onto his late night weekly LA radio show while looking more and more like a drag queen.
Well, let me know that this thing works. And explain to me what I'm actually supposed to report on. I'm highly suspicious that this whole thing is a ruse to prove to the world that I don't actually DO anything. Which believe me I don't need this freakin' thing to point that out. I'm well aware of my ability to do nothing. Nothing is more pleasureable than nothing.
over + out,
Rob
Right now I'm reduced to listening to CDs on a $30 Memorex Cd player. It's great for wading through promotional junk I receive in the mail, but when you finally settle on something worth hearing, it isn't optimum. However, this Jerry Lee Lewis Live at the Star Club 1964 CD is one of the most maniacal things I've ever heard. A friend burned it for me and it must've been a law back in Germany in the 1960s that any performer hitting the Star Club stage had to load up on amphetamine before hitting the stage because this is one fast, angry set. If Elvis Costello and the Attractions circa This Year's Model played boogie-woogie, R&B and rockabilly, this is what it would sound like...
I've had a book recommended to me: How to Stay Idle or something like that...I put an order at the local library, so hopefully when the clown who has it out finally returns it I'll be able to leisurely read a book on a subject so dear to my heart. I do recommend When I Was Cool by Sam Kashner, a very funny recount of a young, earnest beatnik-inspired kid who enrolls as the first student of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa in Colorado. He ends up doing their laundry and "finishing" their poems. An absolute disaster. Fun.
Also, check out Mayor of Sunset Strip, the Rodney Bingenheimer documentary. I'd always assumed he was a major LA tastemaker prick, but no, that's Kim Fowley. Rodney's just a sad old man, who barely hangs onto his late night weekly LA radio show while looking more and more like a drag queen.
Well, let me know that this thing works. And explain to me what I'm actually supposed to report on. I'm highly suspicious that this whole thing is a ruse to prove to the world that I don't actually DO anything. Which believe me I don't need this freakin' thing to point that out. I'm well aware of my ability to do nothing. Nothing is more pleasureable than nothing.
over + out,
Rob