#NY Rocker

[lisamarie-vee]

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

A MALICIOUS DAMAGE RECORDING -- MECHANIZING THEIR WAY THROUGH THE EAST COAST IN '81.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on a promo/print advert for English post-punk/industrial rock band KILLING JOKE's 1981 USA Tour, promoting their then second studio full-length "What's THIS for...!." The advert also doubles as a "Tour Dates" flyer -- from the September 1981 issue of "NY Rocker" music magazine.

"This band would not just be a pleasure principle, it would have a social function, rather than something you put on when you get home from work. I guarantee that if you do that with a KILLING JOKE record, you'll lose your job. We knew we were different -- we were articulate and intelligent, yet we were portrayed as thugs, which admittedly there was an element of truth in."

-- JAZ COLEMAN on the ethos and underlying message of KJ

Source: https://amp.cdandlp.com/en/killing-joke/usa-tour-1981-usa-1981-original-promo-type-advert-concert-tour-dates-punk-poster-flyer/poster-display/r118849179.

[louferrignojrofficial]

lou straddling someone in swat.. for science

[rockintapper]

I AM. thinkIng. aniburscifdrbhdjvgdv4ehg4ejvvthghd54avF$thgv mjgsxavys2q jyaex jfgdwecf

[zoekeating]

Dear Listeners, 

Happy 2024 to you, in all its weirdness. 

I’m working on NEW MUSIC and will be sharing little bits of it and my process with you as I go along. For now, I’m putting the videos on Instagram and my Facebook Page and will link to them on my blog (sorry I let that lapse, somehow I managed to forget blogging existed). Here’s the first, a snippet of a song with the working title “Supernumerary”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Zoe Keating (@zoecello)

What else? There are a few concerts in the immediate future:

March 15 - ArtYard - Frenchtown, NJ

March 16 - Underground Arts - Philadelphia, PA

March 17 - Le Poisson Rouge - NYC, NY

March 21 - Big Ears Festival - Knoxville, TN

The show in Philadelphia is opening up for my old friends, the Sleepytime Gorilla Museum. My connections to members of that band go back 20+ years to my 964 Natoma days. I first encountered Nils Frykdahl in the previous millennium while he was playing amplified flute in the rafters of the warehouse along with Dan Rathburn making noise and sparks with an arc welder that illuminated butoh performer Shinichi Moma Koga contorting himself on a metal grate. Anyway, Sleepytime is a delightful group of very talented avant garde art rockers and this year needs more of their unfiltered catharsis. I immediately said yes when they asked if I would play for one of their East Coast dates to support their new album.

The Big Ears festival is something I’ve wanted to play at for almost a decade, so I am beyond thrilled to be added this year. I’ll be sticking around for the festival to hear as many of the other artists as possible, it’s off the hook, check it out https://bigearsfestival.org/

More concerts dates are coming in the autumn. East, west, middle, as many as I can fit in ;-)

Thank you for listening!

celloly yours, Z

[melancholicstation]

Do wanna run marathons in Long Beach by the sea? — a john f. kennedy jr one-shot

taglist: @obsessedwithjohnjr @vanillqcoke @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl

SUMMARY: After a round of bad luck after bad luck with guys, Bobby, who has come to be a father figure of yours concocts a plan to set you up with his Bachelor of a nephew: John F. Kennedy junior, only neither of you quite know it yet.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: in this au bobby is still alive and works at the innocence project post his presidency. for a while it truly stumped me on what a man like him would've done if he lasted through 2 terms of a presidency and had to get a new job 🫠 also what should we name this reader!?

warnings: nothing just cute flirting, mean-ish jfk jr, use of the word bitch, kissing, bon*r but nothing beyond that, face touching

words: 1,759

Upper East Side, NY. 1995

Your conscious mind is rudely pulled back into reality from it's own sleep-induced bliss-state as you hear sounds akin to that of a racoon rummaging inside an opened trash chute.

As your eyes adjust to the change you start to get a feel for your surroundings. Nothing similar to a trash can—no quite the opposite. Instead of a grimy green, slick covered dross habit you had found yourself in a place you'd come to know as familiar: miss bouvier's new york townhome, or as you'd come to call her: Jackie.

You recognise yourself to be in her living room fit with a vast bookshelf, a safe haven for her over the decades you'd presume. Shrouded and protected by the novels and their winding tales—as if the paper thin pages were her coat of arms.

After your eyes had adjusted to the light, your whole body slowly seems to return to itself as your sensory receptors pick up the velveteen settee: in a swirling pattern of pink against a midnight black background.

Behind you sat a bookshelf wall to wall with books, so packed in fact that a ladder sufficed to be put in to explore the contents sufficiently. Glancing up the first book you lay your eyes upon is Works of Aeschylus. Instantaneously you are transported to how you got here in the first place—

*flashback to three hours ago*

You're regretting about all the romantic decisions that led you up to this point: crying the lobby of a Manhattan high-rise, embarrassing the hell out of yourself. Even in front of all the guys who looked like they were playing parodies of themselves on SNL. Despite not being blood Bobby was always the one you'd call when the going gets tough.

So that's how you got here: clad in nothing but an old heather-grey knit romper that you'd "stolen" from your recreational sport team in college and a pair of joggers with embroidered golfing patches—you knew they were less than fashionably conscious but damn! were they fucking comfortable.

Unsurprisingly you see Bobby bounding out the elevator, just on time, making his way over to you, encasing you in a fatherly hug before you can even mutter out a conversationally polite greeting of "hello" or "hi".

He doesn't say much, he never really does when you get in this state over a boy. To be quite frank he's fed up—no not at you, never at you: but at those douchebag boys who could never to measure up in any measure of a man. He knew he, or his brother's for that matter, weren't exactly angels in the fidelity department but they'd never have had the gall to run games like these boys have played on you.

And to top it off he'd just got off from a phone call from John last night saying that he wouldn't come to thanksgiving—too worried that the family will tease him for not bringing a girl home 4 years in a row.

While you silently cry in the taxi on the way home—well not to your home or bobby's instead to Jackie's home in manhattan: according to Bobby he'd been cat-sitting for Jackie while she sailed through St-Tropez for the weekend so that's where you two would be headed.

In between your crying and unbeknownst to you, Bobby concocted a plan to kill two birds with one stone...

Mysteriously informing you he'd ride with you to the townhouse and ride all the way back to his office, apparently he'd forgotten to some important papers to leave at Jackie's in his office. Assuring you that he'd be back before you knew it.

*end of flashback*

Your disturbed once more by the sound you presumed had woken you up in the first place and are met with a disturbing sight John no less than 5 five metres away from your splayed out frame: crouching over a filing cabinet aptly disguised as a chest of drawers.

You'd never really got along with John, not with his smug nature and ability to deflect questions with ease that he didn't feel bothered to pay attention to. Truthfully it was like a dance of tango even trying to engage in a conversation with him: so you never really tried. Bobby had always tried to ingrain you into Kennedy family traditions: knowing your rocky relationship with your own family. So you would talk to John in passing but never for too long: though it was long enough for you two to start a Cold War of passive aggressive passes of mash potatoes every holiday season.

Now to any other women aged 25-40 in America this sight would be a dream come true what with John clad in a simple button down shirt, and loosely tied linen slacks: none drawing attention away from his sharp jaw and frustratingly kissable lips, resembling the shade of a rabbit's tongue.

"Oh so sleeping beauty does wake!" You startle at the arrogance simply seeping out of his vocal cords.

"Pretty sure sleeping and being comatose are two different things, Jackass." you curtly reply while moving up into the slightly less demeaning positioning of half-sitting half-laying: hoisted up by the refined floral patterned cushions splayed about the living room.

"You say such pretty things to me, Y/n!" John says, motioning his hands in a fake swooning gesturing his hand to his forehead faking feeling faint.

"What're you looking for any way? Snooping in one me sleeping. I didn't take you for a peeping tom, maybe I should have."

"Oh don't flatter yourself. Bobby called me."

My body quickly turned cold why would Bobby call him, at this hour of night? I knew them to be close but not—calling at all hours of the night for favours—close.

"Now why in the hell would he do that John-John?"

"Would you shut up with that? you know I hate that nickname. Bob called me cause he needed me to bring some of mom's papers to the office."

How peculiar, you thought. Didn't Bobby just say, mere hours ago, that he'd left papers for Mrs Kennedy in his office? Not finding it particularly relevant you decline to tell John this fact.

"Why would he call you? He'd have a better job getting Freckles to go find it first."

"Stop that will ya? To be honest I think he's just giving me something to do I guess he feels sorry for me. Y'know about the Claudia stuff."

A melancholic stupor falls over his face, and you start to feel like you're talking to a real human being: y'know with feelings and thoughts. Seemingly some of the hubris had fallen from his features at the mere mention of that girl. You'd heard that Jackie never liked her found her too eccentric for her likening.

Uncomfortable with the certain intimacy he'd uncharacteristically shared with you, you try to lighten the mood

"If you want some basic bitch, go to the Beverly Center and find her. I'm sure the girls down fifth avenue would simply fawn over just the sight of you."

"Don't act like you're any different. You fawn over as much as the rest of them, nothing better to do", he says with a performed confidence.

"For the record I did have things to do. I don't normally mop around like you tell Bobby I do all damn day"

"Oh yeah? What things do you have to do?"

"Not much at all but I strain to think of it as your business"

"Well you are my business!"

You scoff "Oh-oh I'm your business now? Is that it?"

"You've been my business since the minute a saw you sleeping on the couch with tear stains on the pillow"

Time slows for several moments, shit how long had he been here to see you crying?

As if he can read your mind he answers your question with his next breath

"Don't worry I didn't see anything. Just saw the remnants on your pillow but it was enough to make me want to knock the teeth out of whatever boy made you like this." John says while still desperately trying to find Bobby's magically disappearing and reappearing file to deal with his uncomfortableness at his own outburst of sincerity. A mode unfamiliar to him normally.

Betraying yourself you blush like a schoolgirl, tipping your chin to your neck, the acetate claw clip clipped into your hair dragging along the base of your neck.

Slowly John makes his move towards you: precise and monitored. As if you're a wounded dear he doesn't want to scare off. Brushing a hand across your check: making his way down to tug on your bottom lip.

As if operated by magnetic pull, you meet each other's lips. Surprisingly either of the two do not fight for dominance, instead you two fall into a routine not dissimilar to that of a dance in which you both inhabit spaces of dominance and submission. A true push and pull.

A large friend graces your acquaintance and attention: in the shape of a prominent mound in his trousers, which he laughs off clearly embarrassed from getting this worked up over a 5 minute make-out session.

In the throughs of passion the papers John had been sorting through crumple slightly. That sound is what precisely stops his movements: clearly coming back to his senses and remembering that he'd promise Bobby that he'd find the papers.

Conflicted on how to move forward. John takes a big swing

"Y'know is there any chance you'd wanna come and rive with me to Bob's office, there's this Italian place we could eat at if you're hungry? Don't get me wrong I'd love—" gesturing down to the mound in his slacks "—to continue this further but I just can't let him down."

"Nah I get it. And I guess I'm a little hungry" you try to perform nonchalance to your detriment.

Chuckling at your faux coolness, John rises to stand wringing his large veiny fingers

"I'll go head and ring Bobby so he knows we're coming up, and meet you downstairs, alright?"

"Okay" you reply still out of breath as you watch him leave the living room and grab his Nokia 1011. Mortified yet extremely pleased with yourself you grab one of Jackie's refined choice of couch furnishings and yell into its feather filled centre.

A yell filled with utter disbelief and a renewed hope for the future—or at least for the rest of your night.

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT/FEDERATION MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 2011

FLASHBACK PHOTO

Meet The Rockers

As far as we can tell, this is the earliest known shot of Shawn Michaels as a WWE Superstar, taken backstage at a TV taping in Buffalo, NY, in 1987. The future HBK was 22 years old, and still a year away from his debut in July of ‘88. Looking at this young up-and-comer, who could have predicted he’d one day grow into The Showstopper?

[sowhatifiliveinfukuoka]

Bad Brains (1982)

© NY Rocker

[albiclalepsza]

New York City in the Summer of 1979 - a foreword to The Legendary 1979 No Nukes Concert on CD/DVD

I showed up in New York City in the Summer of 1979 and asked a friend who had a tiny apartment on West 90th Street if I could sleep on his couch for a few months while I try to pursue my dream of becoming a fillmmaker. He said yes but... he didn't have a couch. Luckily we found one down the block that was left out with the trash and we hauled it up to our 2nd floor walkup. We dubbed the apartment "the roach motel" and it would be my home for a little while as I set out on my journey. I was 22 years old and began looking for work as a production assistant.

Working on film sets of NY was how I learned my craft. The city looked very different back then. Abandoned buildings and vacant lots on the Upper West Side surrounded our "roach motel". NYC was in disarray but it was exciting and electric. In the Summer of '79, William Freidkin was shooting Cruising with Pacino in the West Village, John Cassavettes was making Gloria with Gena Rowlands, Brian De Palma had Dressed To Kill, Sidney Lumet was shooting Just Tell Me What You Want, and right around the corner from my humble apartment, Scorsese and De Niro were quietly making Raging Bull on Columbus Avenue and 89th Street.

In 1979, NYC was where art was being created 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Films were being made by a new generation of independents. The graffiti of Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiiat and many other artists was on every wall and subway station. Music from punk to disco was exploding in downtown clubs and out onto the streets, changing fashion, language and attitudes.

The city was a mess. It was broke, it was dangerous, but it was alive and filled with young people with a dream. It was a great time and place to be a filmmaker in training. After few day jobs as a production assistant on a couple of movies, I got a call for a position on a music documentary that was in the works. It sounded unbelievable - I was to be right in front of the stage during 5 sold out concerts at Madison Square Garden, on a headset, coordinating between a cameraman and the director. If that wasn't enough, I soon found out the headliner for two of the nights was to be my beloved home state rockers, Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band. And I was going to be paid 50$ a day for this! I had made it! Dream come true!

Our film crew had a meeting the day before the shows to try to map out who would be where. There were 8 camera crews, but only 2 would be in the pit in front of the stage. Each camera crew had an operator, a camera assistant and a production assistant. All crews were operating hand-held, 16mm cameras that needed to be slated to sync up with the separately recorded sound. Each roll of film was only good for about 9 minutes of shooting before rolling out and then needed a hand thread re-load. This was low tech, old school, documentary movie making at its most challenging. This was FILM. The decisive moment. No second chances. Get the shot or you've missed it forever. No digital cameras that never run out, no giant techno-cranes swooping in, no robotic cable cams flying across the stage, and of course no cell phones. the audience didn't even have still cameras. They were completely locked into what was happening on stage. In the moment.

We all were. This film was 100% hand-made by our crew. It was 100% discovered on the spot. The camera operators had to improvise every second. We captured the moment in its purest form. The music and the energy on stage told us where to go and what to shoot. And in the case of Bruce and the band that energy was almost impossible to keep up with. There are times in the film when the camera crew was either reloading or simply couldn't get to a solo in time (apologies to Stevie for not covering his brilliant guitar solo on "Jungleland"). Several times the action on stage was so fast that out cameras couldn't keep up.

The film you're about to see was shot over two nights. Friday, September 21, 1979, was the first live show for Bruce and the band in the NYC area since the Palladium and The Capitol Theater more than a year before. In 1979 the band was in the studio recording The River album, still looking for their first Top 10 single. There had not been ANY live peformances in 1979. There had never been a Bruce and The E Street Band concert captured live on film this way. It was all about to happen now in Madison Square Garden, the world's most famous arena.

Night two, Saturday September 22, was the evening leading to Bruce's 30th birthday. Magic was in the air. The energy on stage and from the crowd was beyond measure and description. I had been to many great Bruce/ E Street shows before and since but as you will see, that night in The Garden has to be at at the top of the list. Pure adrenalin. "That rush moment that you live for" was about to unfold. As Bruce turned from 29 to 30 years old in front of 20,000 screaming fans at MSG we witness one of the greatest live rock shows on the world's biggest stage.

My crew's position was in the pit, center/stage right, meaning right in between Clarence and Bruce. The Saturday night show opened with poet and songwriter Gil-Scot Heron, then reggae musician Peter Tosh in a cloud of pot smoke. Next a beautiful set by the great Bonnie Raitt followed by kick-ass Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers.

But the crowd and the night belonged to Bruce. There was a short break to prepare the stage for Bruce and the band - Roy, Max, Danny, Steve and Clarence.

The anticipation was building. Chants of "BRUUUUUUUCE" had been filling the Garden all evening. We got our camera ready. The first few shots of the film are the Garden crowd. Then a close up of yours truly in the pit in front of the stage, headset on, big smile, ready to roll. This is not the language of a conventional concert film. This film is raw. Camera operators responding to the energy and emotion in the moment. True cinema verité. The best of documentary filmmaking. No rehearsal. No stage marks. No choreography. No plan. We show up and shoot. Whatever will happen on stage no one knows. There was magic in the room those two nights. I will never forget it. I'm so glad it's been rescued from the archives for all to share. Enjoy the show. And belated happy 30th birthday, Bruce.

All my best, Jon Kilik

[bullet-prooflove]

A quick round up of updates on the blog including new characters added to the ASK LIST and a list of fics that went out last week.

New Characters:

Thomas Magnum (Magnum P.I)

Shammy (Magnum P.I)

Rick Wright (Magnum P.I)

Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)

Dwight Manfredi (Tulsa King)

Jamie Reagan (Blue Bloods)

Joe Hill (Blue Bloods)

New Fics:

The Bear:

Dissociation - Carmy confronts David Fields.

Something Important - Carmy knows the two of you have something important together.

The Better Man - Richie confronts your ex-husband.

Two Years - Mikey gets two years with you before it all falls apart.

Blue Bloods:

The Wrong Side Of It - Jamie steps up when you end up on the wrong side of some fellow officers.

Good Girl (NSFW) - You're not always such a good girl. (Joe Hill x Reader)

Chicago Med:

Rosewater - Jimmy fights for you.

Swings - Mitch steps up when you recieve some life changing news.

Don't Hold Back - You struggle after spending the night with Mitch.

Lipstick - You make a small gesture to Connor.

FBI:

Safehouse - You and Stuart discuss moving forward now you're back in NY.

Haven:

Him - You decide that Dwight's more important than keeping secrets.

Law & Order:

Spend the Night - Ed asks you to spend the night when the two of you cross the line.

A Casual Thing - You return to Ed's apartment despite what you agreed.

Right There (NSFW) - Nick decides the two of you need to take a break.

Cravings - A chance meeting with you makes Vince realise he's compromising himself.

Magnum P.I:

Beautiful Morning - Rick wakes up to a beautiful morning Hawaii and you.

Early - Rick wakes up to a surprise.

So You Did (NSFW) - Magnum did tell you the two of you'd have fun.

Surprises - You were always the very best surprise.

With Me (NSFW) - You & Shammy spend the night together

NCIS Hawaii:

Wild Horses - Jesse tries to help you forget about your current predicament.

Red Dead Redemption 2:

Eyes On Me (NSFW) - Arthur & you finally cross the line.

SWAT:

One Night - It’s never just one night with you and Rocker.

Tulsa King:

Georgia Peach (NSFW) - You get a little territorial when one of Mitch's exes comes sniffing around.

Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.

Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.

Yellowstone:

Destory - Evelyn makes John a promise regarding you.

Problem Child - Kayce reflects on his history.

Marks (NSFW) - Kayce gets territorial when he sees another man's mark on your skin.

The Last Time - Lee gets to be with you one last time.

Feral - Rip gets a little protective after what happened with the Becks.

Fuck Phone - Travis gets rid of his fuck phone.

Colt 45 - Travis doesn't mess around when it comes to your saftey.

Texas - Ryan and you see each other for the first time in three months.

Truth - Walker admits he made a mistake.

Exactly Right - Jamie honours Lee.

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

The High Rollin’ Rockers - interview to RP

“I’m not exactly a sensible, thoughtful person, but I do love the feeling of being together with people. I love my work - communication on a vast level. My lyrics are more me than anything you’ve heard about me from the waist down.”

- Robert Plant (NY Dnews - May 1974)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is weird- it’s an 1885 home in Sharon Springs, New York, currently operating as the Bashful Rabbit Bed & Breakfast, but if it has a pink porch in the photos, it’s listed for $415K. Yet, on other realty sites, it has the porch repainted white and is listed for $530,055- that’s a big jump just for a white porch. It has 10bds. & 9ba. 

They repainted the yellow/pink doorway and made it pink/green. 

And, the pink porch columns are now yellow, but they seem to have kept the pink rockers. 

Everything in the interior is still colorful - here’s the entrance hall. 

B/c it’s a bed & breakfast, they have a huge sitting room with a pool table.

Look at this, an old phone booth.

The large kitchen is homey, but has some industrial elements for cooking for large groups.

Look at the big rabbit in the dining room. Does he convey? He should, if the new buyer wants to keep the business.

Cheery hallway to the bds. 

They’ve got a little exercise area for the guests.

I don’t know if this is a little apt. that guests can rent, or if everyone can use it. Or, it could be the owner’s private quarters.

On the uppermost level there are more bds.

The rooms are all bright and colorful. 

Each room has a different color scheme and an en-suite bath or shower.

I like this bathroom the best- how come they don’t all have rabbits?

https://www.movoto.com/sharon-springs-ny/110-center-st-sharon-springs-ny-13459/pid_ly7slagrjh/

https://www.trulia.com/p/ny/sharon-springs/110-center-st-sharon-springs-ny-13459--2159146181

[punkrockhistory]

When punk rock / new wave meets hip hop

Tina Weymouth and Grandmaster Flash, pictured for NY Rocker, 1981.

Photo by Laura Levine

#punk #punkrock #womenofpunk #tinaweymouth #hiphop #grandmasterflash #history #punkrockhistory

[weneverlearn]

This Ain't No Disco

Ira Robbins tells us about his new reprint of the first official history of CBGB, out this week through Trouser Press Books

In the early 1980s -- as the "new wave" (and all that contained) was seeping out into far-flung U.S. suburbs -- Trouser Press was, for me and a load of my underground-curious music pals, the best indie-heavy music mag out there. And I remember it being a bit easier to find in Parma, Ohio, than the almost mythical mags you heard about from New York (Rock Scene, Punk, NY Rocker, etc.) or London (Melody Maker, NME, etc.).

1979

After a 10-year run, Trouser Press sadly stopped publishing in the mid-80s, but founder Ira Robbins kept the vibe alive with five consistently updated volumes of The Trouser Press Record Guide. Pre-internet, these hefty encyclopedias of all things alt-rock were essential texts in any true music lovers bathroom. For me, seeing the New Bomb Turks entry in the final edition, The Trouser Press Guide to '90s Rock, was a stronger validation of my life choices than if we'd won a Grammy.

TrouserPress.com started up in 1997, and a few years ago, all issues were scanned and available there. Since moving to the Big Apple myself, seeing Robbins pop up at various events never fails to instantly turn me into the 14-year old kid who first picked up a Trouser Press and marveled at where my world could go. It helps he's a super nice guy too.

Trouser Press Books kicked in in 2009, and has since released a number of excellent music tomes, the latest being an expanded reissue of the long out-of-print, 1988 book, This Ain't No Disco -- often regarded as the first history book about the famed punk rock joint that Robbins sunk his sneakers into throughout the original punk explosion.

We caught up with Robbins to see how this needed reprint came about...

So why did you decide to tackle this reprint?

When I decided to make Trouser Press Books an ongoing concern in 2022, I wasn’t sure I could attract enough new projects to consider (I was wrong about that), and thought that music books that have been out of print a long time but still relevant would be another way to build the imprint. Along with a few others in my library, this one seemed an obvious choice. It came out in 1988, but remains an important primary source on CBGB.

Roman died in 1988, but I was able to locate his sister and helped her get a release from the original publisher so that we could do this new edition together.

It is generally considered the first full history book about CBGB, no?

It definitely was the first book about the club. Pretty foresightful if you ask me.

What are your memories of first coming across This Ain't No Disco?

Roman Kozak interviewed me for it and I attended the launch party for it at (no prizes for guessing where), so I was well aware of its existence.

Did you know Roman Kozak or Ebet Roberts at that time?

Roman, who was a Billboard editor, I knew to say hello to when I’d see him at shows. Ebet I knew quite well because she had been a regular photographer for Trouser Press magazine for much of its existence.

If so, can you tell me anything about both people, as far as coming across them around the general NYC scene orbit?

I was introduced to Ebet because of her connection to the Planets, the band led by Binky Philips, who I knew from summer camp. (All of the Trouser Press gang loved the Planets.) The CBGB scene was so small in the beginning that it was like a social club as much as a rock venue. Ebet made it a point to shoot at CB’s as much as she could.

Just to clear things up - Ebet's photos were in the original, right? Any new images added to this new edition?

Yes, they were, sprinkled throughout the book and not printed to her satisfaction. When we started work on the new edition, we – my wife, Kristina Juzaitis, who designs all of our books, and I – decided to run a 12-page glossy photo insert and asked Ebet to make a new selection of images. Ebet has a book of her New York punk work coming out, so she wanted to avoid including the same images. So there are some holdovers from the original book, but there are some different ones as well.  And the printing quality is a lot better.

-------------------------------------

The Story of CBGB Playlist - Ira Robbins

-------------------------------------

Editing this edition now years after first reading it, did anything surprise you, as far as how the story of CBGB has perhaps morphed over the years?

This Ain’t No Disco really brings the reality back. Now that CBGB has become essentially a t-shirt legend to people who were never there, reading about the day-to-day business of what Hilly Kristal dealt with, and the actual people who made it happen, is pretty eye-opening. I don’t know if it punctures the illusion or ups the punk ante, but I think it’s important history to know what actually happened in that magnificent Bowery dive.

One thing I was surprised to learn is why some of the artists were selected to be on the Live at CBGB album. I recall when it was released in 1976 being really disappointed by how unrepresentative it was of the CB’s scene. The book explains how (a.) Hilly couldn’t get the top acts to participate and (b.) a lot of the minor bands on the album had direct connections to the club that I didn’t know about.

1982 pin

Do you think CBGB's history has been mythologized; and if so, will anything in this book re-correct some bloated mythologies? Or was it all gloriously true? 

The dog shit, the chili, the tables and chairs, the bathrooms, the killer PA, Karen Kristal’s strict rules – yeah, it was all true. But none of that mattered. What was important was how much amazing music was created onstage.

What was the process of finding the original material and crafting the reprint? I imagine it was maybe a nightmare tracking down old typed out manuscripts and unscanned photos? But then again, maybe it was all saved on a floppy disc... or what?

I scanned the old book, page by page. When I was working on my own memory/anthology, Music in a Word, I discovered that it was easy to do OCR (optical character recognition) via Google Drive – you upload the scans and then open each page using Google Docs – it converts them to text in a flash. There are some tricks to making it work right, but basically it’s as easy as pie. So, I used that technique to assemble a Word document of the whole thing. That had to be checked for missing bits and wrongly transcribed words, but it was basically done.

Were there any major hurdles along the way, as far as any missing pieces/parts, having to re-finagle photo rights, etc.?

Nothing too terrible. Ebet, as I said, is still a good friend, and she and Kri and I worked together to select the photos. We agonized over the cover a bit, but it all turned out great in the end.

How did you decide on Chris Frantz to write the new forward?

Given that the book was written 35 years ago and ends while the club was still a going concern, I was concerned that readers might be confused about what exactly it is in 2024. I wanted people to understand that this was a historical document, not a modern look back at what CBGB was. Also, I thought there might be readers for whom the name CBGB doesn’t connote all the obvious stuff – the bands, the era, the excitement – that it does for someone who was there. It needed an introduction of some sort to put the book (as well as the club) in context. Chris published a well-received memoir a few years back, so I knew he could write intelligently, and he has the stature to say something personal and significant about the club as well as the book. He was generous enough to agree to write the foreword, and delivered it right on time and in excellent shape.

How long did it take from light bulb going off to final sent to the printers?

More than two years. Finding and contacting Roman’s family took a while and then getting the rights back from Faber and Faber took a while. Trouser Press Books is a two-person operation, and we can only publish four or five titles a year, so this one got on the back burner a couple of times.

You wrote some new text for this edition about the closing of the club, right?

Actually, I didn’t write new text – I included a piece I wrote for Spin when the final battle for the future of CBGB was being waged in 2005 and a report on the closing night I did for New York Newsday in 2006. The club had long since passed its prime and I doubt I’d seen any shows there in years, but I was glad to have been there for the swan song.

Have you seen any of those invite-only concerts they have at the former CBs / Varvatos store sometimes? I saw the Dolls play there when their second new era album came out; and saw Cheap Trick do Budokan there. If so, thoughts? 

I was at both of those gigs as well. They were so packed out it was like being in the club. Otherwise, a high-priced clothing store, even with the ephemera on the walls, is not really up my alley. But more recently I attended a party for the release of a live Nuggets album my friend Rick Johnson produced and was surprised how deep the space is. I’m glad they’ve made an effort to honor CBGB in the space.

Podcast interview with Ira Robbins, April, 2024

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Ulna

Adam Schubert is a veteran of Chicago’s lo-fi, psych rock scene, as part of Café Racer, Ruins (not the Japanese noise outfit) and now the solo project Ulna. Jennifer Kelly called Gazebo, his second record under that name, “slack and wistful and beautiful, a lo-fi concoction of idle strums and slurry poetry.” Here he lists some of the songs that made him.

Broadcast — “Tender Buttons”

The Velvet Underground inspired guitar and the haunted vocals of Trish Keenan have always made this song a favorite of mine. Broadcast’s music consistently inspires me, especially the drone/noise elements of their arrangements.

Glyders — “Geneva Strangemod”

One of the best rock and roll bands I have ever heard. Perfect tones, perfect drums, perfect guitar and bass lines. Genuinely encapsulates 1960s rock with touches of modernity. For fans of pure rock bliss.

Sharp Pins — “Every Time I Hear”

Guitarist from Lifeguards side project is well tuned, Guided by Voices-inspired pop rock. Great arrangements and catchy hooks blend with the tasteful lo-fi production of this amazing band.

Don Caballero — “Let’s Face It Pal, You Didn’t Need That Eye Surgery”

The way Ian Williams played guitar in this band changed my life. I never heard anyone create the sounds that I heard in my own head, and this band inspired me to loop guitar lines to create massive sounds. The ending of this song is very important to me.

Bnny — “Ambulance”

My sister Jessica always writes some of the best songs I’ve ever heard, but this song has been a favorite of mine since I first heard her play it. We recorded this at Jamdek in Chicago. I played bass while Jessica played guitar and sang. We had to do a few takes to get the right one, but the chorus made me cry every time we played it. Even after playing over and over again. The reference she makes to another song of hers in the chorus just proves to me that she is one of the best around.

The Velvet Underground — “Sister Ray”

One of my favorite songs of all time. Pretty much everything I could say about this song and this band has been said a million times over. Just a nasty, pure rock groove that goes on forever… like it should.

Sonic Youth — “Death Valley ’69 (Live)”

This version is my favorite of this no wave classic from the NY pioneers. Recorded at Smart Bar in Chicago in 1995. Original version features Lydia Lunch on vocals during the middle section of the song. Just raw power to jam out to.

Built to Spill — “Stab”

One of my favorite bands and one of my favorite songs by them. It’s like if Neil Young wrote an indie/emo song, I think, you’d get this. Goes from classic indie rock to metal seamlessly.

Modest Mouse — “Cowboy Dan”

This song has always had a special place in my heart. The aggression that leads to quiet reflection, then back again to aggression is a great way of showing how anger can lead to sadness… then back again and again.

Nirvana — “Milk It”

First band I got into without the help of my mom. I was obsessed with them at a time where dressing like a grunge rocker was lame and uncool. This song was a favorite of mine and, honestly, it still is. Because it was produced by Steve Albini, I ended up getting into his stuff which led the way to Touch and Go records. Proves how something obvious can lead to obscure sounds that can be very exciting.