This one is from earlier in the year - January 15
The Xavier doesn't ring any bell at all. Nor can I summon the tune of "Insecure Me" or "Dance Your Ass Off".
CHEESY WOTSITS
This one is from earlier in the year - January 15
The Xavier doesn't ring any bell at all. Nor can I summon the tune of "Insecure Me" or "Dance Your Ass Off".
May 1983 to be precise - a snapshot of my listening as a 19-year old, via an old letter that came into my possession again recently
[written for somebody as part of an interview, like a bonus side-bar thing , can't remember who, can't remember when - the concept was "three music books you love that aren't that well known or are a bit forgotten"
Starlust (1985) by Fred and Judy Vermorel has been out of print for years, but is just about to get reissued by my publisher as part of its Faber Finds imprint. Here’s how I blurbed it: “This fascinating and groundbreaking expose . . . lifts the lid on fan culture to reveal—and revel in—its literally idolatrous delirium. Yet, far from manipulated dupes of a cynical record industry, fans are shown to be subversive fantasists who use the objects of their worship as a means to access the bliss and glory they cannot find in their everyday lives and social surroundings. A lost classic of pop-culture critique that’s woven almost entirely out of the testimonials and confessions of the fans themselves, Starlust is above all a celebration of the power of human imagination.”
Big Noises (1991) is a really enjoyable book about guitarists by the novelist Geoff Nicholson. It consists of 36 short “appreciations” of axe-men (and they’re all men; indeed, it’s quite a male book but quite unembarrassed about that). These range from obvious greats/grates like Clapton/Beck/Page/Knopfler to quirkier choices like Adrian Belew, Henry Kaiser, and Derek Bailey. Nicholson writes in a breezy, deceptively down-to-earth style that nonetheless packs in a goodly number of penetrating insights. I just dug this out of my storage unit in London a couple of months ago and have been really enjoying dipping into it.
The Boy Looked At Johnny (1978) by Julie Burchill and Tony Parsons is a curious thing: proof that a music book can be almost entirely wrong and yet remain a bona fide rockwrite classic. Allegedly written in a few days during an amphetamine bender, it’s subtitled “The Obituary of Rock and Roll,” but is really a requiem for the then-married authors’ broken-hearted belief in punk-as-revolution. Bitter and bitchy, strident and stylish, this short, fast tract had a huge impact on me at the time, as it did on loads of other impressionable youths; I was really surprised, later on, to find out that many people at the time of its release disapproved/deplored/dismissed it altogether. A big deal at the time, The Boy Looked At Johnny really has been forgotten. Few today even remember that perennially infamous newspaper opinionator Burchill was once a music journalist—indeed, for a few years, the U.K.’s most famous rock writer.
I have no memory which foreign (I assume?) magazine this was written for, or why.... Maybe I should ask Kieran (NYC native now relocated to Bushwick) to do a 2023-update.... The High Line would be an obvious addition
Love , 179 MacDougal Street , New York, NY 10011
Dark
atmospheric club with possibly the best sound system in Manhattan; home to
dubstep monthly night Dub War and drum & bass party The Secret Night of
Science.
The Frying Pan, Pier 66, New York, NY 10011 (West 26th St. at
West Side Highway )
A cool bar that regularly hosts dance parties as well as
private events, this is a boat moored at a dock on the Hudson River; once
submerged for many years, it was salvaged and restored, but the interior was left fantastically rusted
and corroded from years at the bottom of the sea.
Stuyvesant Town
Apartment block complex, originally built to house WW2 veterans, between
23rd and 14th Street and 1st Avenue to the East River, with many cool recreation
areas, playgrounds, trees and greenery. Literally cool, as the tall buildings create pools of shade that are refreshing to dip inside during a sweltering Manhattan summer.
DUMBO
Short for Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass, this formerly
industrial area in Brooklyn between the Manhattan Bridge and the Brooklyn
Bridge has been redeveloped with riverside parkways, cafes, book stores, etc,
but still retains the gritty residues of its dockland past. Access via the water ferry from the Fulton Slip at Fulton Landing in Manhattan, or
take the F-train subway to York Street.
Prospect Park, Brooklyn
More rugged and wild than Central
Park, Manhattan, the perfect place for a summer picnic party.
Chelsea
Market
Indoor market with restaurants, cafes, food stores,
patisseries, gelateria, etc, a short walk from the Hudson River and in close
proximity to the formerly squalid, now slightly cleaned up Meatpacking
District. 75 9th Ave (between 14th and 15th Street)
Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Williamsburg's Bedford
Street is what the East Village's St Mark's Place and Avenue A were like 15,
maybe even 20 years ago: where the hipsters prowl, grazing at the wares offered
by street vendors selling used books, used records, vintage clothes, etc.