Well, it was another one of those weeks where I really didn’t know what to write about as deadline loomed in, closer and closer. Settling down to write was complicated by yet another computer trauma, that being the machine I was used to writing with was suddenly taken back by the person who left it with me, well after I had fully adopted it as my own and fed and nurtured it with all the necessities and programming best suited for my needs. Oh well, that’s what happens when you have a sneaking suspicion that this information appliance you’ve been using quite possibly fell off the back of a truck in the first place. At any rate, I must have bitched and moaned enough about it to the right people because in no time at all a friend of mine showed up at my door with a formidable PC, likely on it’s way to the computer graveyard due to the swift nature of upgrades and rapid technological advances. Actually it’s a pretty nice machine, and not quite ready for a trip to the cyber-boneyard after all, so I’m back in business thanks to my thoughtful and generous friend Ric. I have a computer and it’s mine, all mine, no matter whom is behind on rent.
With that obstacle overcome I was free to settle in and write…but about what? I was stumped again. The television news was on over my shoulder and I heard the news announcer say, “Once again, bullets fly, students fall at a high school in Georgia….” and I thought, no, not again, I can’t write about another High School shooting, not even to say I told you so (which I did in my Columbine Copycat article, Volume 20 Number 15). A week prior to this on Mothers day to be exact former childstar Dana Plato accidentally overdosed in a motor home after a heavily troubled post-stardom adult life, beginning with an unplanned pregnancy at age 19 that got her fired from her sitcom, a descent into drug addiction, resorting to softcore pornography as her career faded, and her eventual arrest and conviction for armed robbery of a Las Vegas video store. Then I considered the similar troubles her two co-star child actors went through–one assaulted a autograph seeking fan just recently, the other shot his crack dealer in the head 4 times–and then I suddenly remembered that a former SF resident who shall remain nameless, known for leading a very successful and longrunning theatre group through numerous insane productions citywide, had once confessed to me that his own father, now deceased, actually robbed the very same video store that Dana Plato hit, exited with the money and went directly
next door to a casino and started drinking and gambling until the police apprehended him there. Cool huh? I thought so, and I also got to thinking that in many ways it has always been tough to be a teen in this world, or to follow in their misguided criminal footsteps too. Perhaps that’s why I tend to play up each and every teen tragedy that the media hurls our way–to point out that hey, even in our youth focussed society with all your Britney Spears’ and Brandys’ and Jennifer Love Hewitts’ and other rich pop-phenomenon twelve year old multimillionaire stars and model teens–it ain’t really like that for most so don’t believe it. This is america, we like our childstars washed up and tragic by adulthood and our teens cut down in their prime by the angry gunfire of the direct result of their snotty cruel need to place themselves above others they don’t understand, just like their parents do in their adult life. But I just brought that up so I could mention that a friends father robbed the same place as Dana Plato, god rest her soul–or maybe not–they just released autopsy findings that concluded it was suicide rather than accidental overdose. Which brings to mind some more findings on another famous corpse, Tammy Wynette. Buried a year, her daughters had her body exhumed to try and blame a doctor and her husband for the singers’ death. They found she died of heart failure but I believe her daughters had dropped the possible charges against her husband anyway. It was all hardly worth all that digging and nonsense. It’s not like she was Eva Peron or something, whose corpse and it’s many travels I familiarized myself with from a website called rotten.com which features, among other things, a section called Celebrity Morgue, and we’re not talking gravestones here–it’s the real thing, from Josef Stalin to Mother Teresa and even Andrew Cunanan. It’s worth a visit.
It was online, a site called Rock on TV (www.rockontv.com) that I discovered that Hole was to be on David Letterman on thursday night, which of course excited me but i couldn’t very well write about it. I write about Courtney and high School shootings far too much, but I watched and Courtney came out as a guest first and was really funny and engaging and flirtatious and dressed way down. They had a definite rapport, her and Dave. Then after a commercial break the band performed their latest single, “Awful” and again, scored with a powerful proper showing of talent, guts and angst. Then right at the end of the song Courtney stood on the drum platform and jumped off backwards and actually fell on her ass but the show was closing and it didn’t really look that wrong or stupid–she saved herself somehow, with a smile or perhaps it was the strength of the bands overall performance. It was great. But I wasn’t going to write about that, so I went out for a drink at the Hole in The Wall.
At the Hole I tossed back a shot of Jack Daniels and moaned to the bartender, Doug Hilsinger, that I didn’t have anything to write about. He immediately shot back, “Write about the brand new Bomb record that’s out.” Odd that I hadn’t thought of that, I’ve had the new release for a couple months now, but it’s not odd that Doug thought of it, seeing as he plays guitar for Bomb, the now defunct local group who over a year ago reunited for one show and some studio time. The fruits of this reunion would be the seven song EP Lovesucker, on Wingnut records. This ep was a long time coming with a couple of defective pressings needing to be returned to the manufacturer and redone completely, but finally it is available and a very good release. In fact, rumor has it that the four members may just reunite yet again for a record release party. Anyone who caught their reunion gig last year knows how phenomenal this band is live, and walked away in disbelief that four musicians can be so good and not be together. It seems like a crime, but there is this new record, and it has a few new songs and a couple of old ones that were previously only available on a rare 7-inch single, one of which is a fantastic cover of the Depeche Mode song “Personal Jesus.” At last, with Jay and Doug dishing up heavenly guitar-torque and punch, the song finally swells into the power of otherworldliness that the limp synth treatment of the original falls short of. The recording is a bit more cleaned up on Lovesucker than the original version, which is a bonus. Same goes for the anthemic, bic-lighters-in-the-air-swaying, lilt of “Nineteen”, the party for the end of the world song. The real gem among the new songs is definitely “Die”, which repeats that verb as a command repeatedly and sometimes is precisely the sentiment I want to put across when I DJ, like when you see a certain person or an unacceptable behavior. My personal favorite on the disc is the haunting and beautifully disturbing “No Color In Utah,” with it’s breathy high-pitched choral-like vocals matched to the slow gothic plodding darkness of this cut’s mood, delivered thick and constant. It’s really creepy.
I’m glad Doug reminded me of the disc and to write about it because it is most definitely a great listen and available at most record stores now. Buy it and bear in mind that we might possibly have a chance to see Bomb again for a record release party in the near future.
Speaking of upcoming events, my friend Nancy Kravitz phoned me up the other day just bursting to tell me of a triple bill coming to Bottom Of The Hill that is not to be missed. It’s the return of Skunk Anansie, the British sensation led by a wiry black bald dyke named Skin and they are incredible and I can’t believe they’re playing such a small place. Their third and reportedly best LP is finished and as of this time, not picked up or distributed by any label stateside–it seems they haven’t broke the market stateside yet but it’s only a matter of time I’m certain. What’s even better is also on this bill is our very own Black Kali Ma, Gary Floyds new band who you’ve heard me sing the praises of repeatedly, and rounding out the bill is Fabulous Disaster, Nancy Kravitz’s all girl band who reportedly kick ass fast and hard. I can’t wait. Buy your tickets in advance or you may be sorry. This takes place on Saturday June 12, 1999.