Getting an email from Gene Simmons, why young boys must rock, spending fifty thousand dollars on a collection of outtakes, getting onto a cruise ship with really old rock stars, spending $250 on a collection that is basically The Beatles dicking around for 80 hours while being filmed, Ektachrome 500, the miracle of HAP (again), metadata, When The Saints Go Marching In, tediously listing things like some kind of idiot, Beatle harmonies, the Wailers, little record stores in little lake towns, and a few thousand other words or debatable wisdom.
I come fully prepared to talk about supper clubs, The Hat Pack, the futility of it all, professional locksmiths, unprofessional landlords, professional "contractors," ladders, distinctive tape measures, flashlights and sticky fingers, flying buttresses, Appalachia, apes painting window trim, you and your stereo and how great you are, whether or not it's socially acceptable to call someone a mental case, red plastic shopping bags, what a $250,000 house in Los Angeles looks like, shoes dropping, best case scenarios, water water everywhere, Puerto Rico, Dominica, and what the hell is a U.S. territory anyway?
We may as well talk about modern day lynch mobs and public shaming, that Nazi rally in Charlottesville, Twitter, getting "good PR" by piggybacking on a tragedy, censorship, Godwin's law, Trump bulldozing people into mass graves, remembering the days of the free exchange of ideas with no governing body, Nazis having trouble finding online homes, riding in shopping carts, the price of freedom, the fact that Scientology is a dangerous and toxic mind control cult, Xenu and body thetans, cute Aryan chicks, realizing that everything you're doing is wrong, squishy dead brain tissue, the Westboro Baptist Church, Jewliciousness, the veins in your forehead bursting, the Civil War solution, Bob Marley, David Letterman and Peter Tosh, war and peace.
Amble down the path with me, if you will, toward finishing the writing of books, promoting and getting reviewers to read said books, plastic and metal, pushing birds out of nests, motors with moxie, selling window fans, oral histories, Roger Steffens and Bob Marley, faulty and fragile memories, tipping over a street vendor's cart because you're an asshole, Slash, doxing, lynching and the Sony HAP S1/B as lord and savior.
I have the best of intentions when I record these, but sometimes things just get away from me. So I'm not sure what this one is "about," but aside from what's listed in the title you'll also hear about PJ Harvey again (including never-before heard audio from an interview I did with her 10 years ago), discographies, demo versions of songs, why the last song on the side of an LP sounds worse than the first, obsession, Eraserhead, why everyone n the Internet is an asshole, I'll say "the N-word" (twice) without spontaneously bursting into flame, heads on pikes, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, N.W.A. and Apple. Not the fruit, the company that rules your world.
I caught PJ Harvey's "The Hope Six Demolition Project" tour at the Greek Theater here in Los Angeles. Allow me to tell you about that, and about psychic space, outdoor music shows, croaking for dollars, staying relevant in the face of increasing waves of nostalgia, First Aid Kit and Fiona Apple, retiring from live shows, people putting on a groovy act, jalapeno nachos and spinach wraps, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, cannibalism, Cirque du Soleil, voicemails and chirping of many kinds.
46 reviews in 50 minutes? How is that even possible, you may be asking. No wonder they call it an extravaganza! Well, that's what this is. Maybe not an extravaganza, but 46 reviews in 50 minutes, as advertised. Though, honestly, it may be more of an opportunity for me to complain about what I don't like about TV. There's a lot to like these days, don't get me wrong, but you know how it goes.
This episode is ostensibly about Snapchat taking over all the buildings in Venice, but it's really just an excuse for me to tell stories about living in Venice - where the debris meets the sea - a long time ago. You know , that and mucus, khakis, "Silicon Beach," wombats, sticky carpets, sleeping bags, Sanford and Son, empty beer cans and pizza crusts, pagodas, driving stick, failing to stay out of Los Angeles County Jail, heroin, radio knobs, Bentleys and Maseratis, Boyle Heights, Leimert Park, gentrification (yes, again), snowbirds and Publishers Clearinghouse.
Chaos and disorder fall upon a nation while millions march in the streets demanding...something. I'm just not sure what. So we may as well talk about protesting. And snakes, hot coals, stereo speakers, being polite, agitating, Century City, Reagan, patchouli, which hats are in fashion, Vietnam, the ERA, diet Coke, catastrophe and emergency, hypocrisy, mental illness, conscience, violent overthrow, economic pressure, Apartheid, inequality, having nothing to lose, lawyers, being part of the problem, being on the wrong side of the majority, lectures, solidarity and tacos.
It's Bukowski time again, sort of, and along the way we may or may not touch on hair again, hopping on pop, nuclear winter, Ronald Reagan, "Baby, it's cold outside," Christmas songs, Cap'n Crunch, slapping broads around, male privilege, Rudy Vallee, amplified ants, Vietnam, the looming Trump era as a glass-half-full kind of thing, how you suck at doing Christmas, Rupert Murdoch, Abel Debritto, tarring and feathering, reruns of Seinfeld, breaking people who don't want to talk, in praise of killing some trees, diseased pilgrims, Google cardboard and all virtual reality, ViewMaster, chirpwatch and pie and coffee.