WFMU's Beware of the Blog

Laura Veirs on WFMU

Just confirmed! Laura Veirs! On WFMU! This Monday, December 12th, the ecclectic singer/songwriter will make a pitstop from her busy touring schedule for a live session on Irene Trudel's show. Expect songs from her fantastic "Year of Meteors" album, as well as her Nonesuch Records debut, "Carbon Glacier". Too bad this didn't happen last week when we got late word that Lady Sovereign was here, as I sense the two of them could've spun together a killer duet.
No matter -- When showtime rolls around, you can tune in live on any of WFMU's webstreams, or catch it on Irene's archive page whenever you'd like. In the meatime, here are a couple songs from the WFMU archives to get you primed for the performance: "Secret Someones" ++ "Cool Water" ++ "Galaxies". You can hear more on Laura's page on the Nonesuch Records website, and check tourdates on this page.

Lady Sovereign performs live on WFMU

No less a woman than S-O-V -- Lady Sovereign herself -- stopped by WFMU last Saturday for a live set on Plug and Play with OCDJ. The pint-sized UK rapper spits incredible stacatto wordplay that incises hectic beats like none other, and her WFMU set righted all residual wrongs leftover from her marred-by-illness NYC appearance last summer.

UPDATE: You can now stream the entire performance from WFMU's archives in either MP3 or Real Audio.!

Allez!

Off-Mic DJ Activities for December 2005

Ahh, the end of calendar year 2005 approacheth, and where matters of off-mic activities are concerned, we've got the proverbial bizzle in our hizzle, as the kids say. Now that our ceremonial decompression rituals associated with Record Fair recovery (let me just say that Pseu Braun gives one MOTHER of a foot massage...) have passed, we're tightening all the escape hatches for the ensuing end-of-year holiday madness that's on deck, but also pointing our collective bad selves towards tomorrow's horizons and whatever 2006 holds in store.

Take Fabio Roberti for example; erstwhile host of the Strength Through Failure program (currently off the schedule, but enjoying enormous celebrity on in the internet in archive form). Never one to be caught lounging around his stylishly decorated flat wasting time,  Fabio will soon be participating in a film presentation at the Galapagos art space in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The weekly "Ocularis" exhibit on December 5th will feature the films of Mr. Roberti, along with contributions from Larry 7, Jim Sharpe, Michael Wolf, and Oscar de la Renta. More info on the specifics of the screenings can be found here.

Later that week (December 8th at 8 PM), catch the L train back into Manhattan and do the thousand-meter-mosey downtown to Burrow (31 Crosby St. between Broome and Grand Streets) for Bronwyn C.'s reading of one of her self described "scary little stories" as part of the inaugeration of Burrow's non/fiction series of readings. Other participants slated to read are Jason Bitner of Found Magazine, and Glen Szabo of Sweet Action and Purple Fiction. Admission is FREE, and will feature delicious beverages courtesy of Sixpoint Craft Ales.

Upcoming Special Programs on WFMU

December is set to be a heartstopping month in terms of live music and special programming on our webstreams, archives, and ever-lovin' FM signal. Go to our upcoming page to peer through the bug splattered windshield that I like to call "the future" for Townes Van Zandt documentarian Margaret Brown, UK folkie Bridget St. John, MIT Professor Noam Chomsky, Garage Rock legends The Original Sins, Philly-style newcomers Jukebox Zeros, avant noiseniks The Noisy Meditation Band, and early 70s John Peel fave Michael Chapman -- all of whom will be swinging through our hallowed halls this month. Also worthy of special attention is the multi-band extravaganza that will be hosted LIVE on Transpacific Sound Paradise from Barbes in Brooklyn. If you're local to the NYC area, come down and experience some LIVE seat-of-the-pants radio with hosts Rob Weisberg and Irene Trudel! More info on all of these special programs can be found here.

Mark E. Smith Reads Daily Football Results

Face it: Mark E. Smith could fart in a bag and we'd think it's funny and a grand artistic statement by which future gaseous emissions ought to be measured. So looky here (right-click to download 6M Real Media file) and get a load of The Fall frontman's visit to a local UK sports desk, to which he was invited for the purpose of reading the daily football results. The beginning and middle are kind of brain-numbing, but the end is priceless. (Via Jon Solomon)

And when you're done with that, check this (older) but equally enthralling clip (streaming Real Media file) of the Mad Man of Manchester's reflection on the passing of John Peel. At about the 2 minutes mark, he does the funniest thing you will ever see anywhere. Liz Berg and I nearly passed out from laughing and replaying it. (Via Mr. Science)

Audible Hiss

Came across this great site which made my heart and ears ache for my bygone days as a cassette enthusiast. It's an alphabetical photo montage of... keeee-rist... seemingly every make and model of blank cassette manufactured from then 'til now, and given that they're all the exact same shape and size, the sheer diversity of design is pretty head spinning. Gazing down the list, my eyes fell on a few that even reminded me of old tapes from my personal collection that either bit the dust eons ago, never made it out from under the seat of my '81 VW Rabbit, got left at parties, were simply tossed to make way for other obsessions, or perhaps still lurk in some dark corner of my apartment, waiting to be uncovered and reprimanded for wasting precious storage space.

For example, this little jobby here was a bit of an industry standard of the late 80s. But it's also the exact make and model of the corny mixtape I made the year before I finished high school and was subsequently carted around from punk rock shows in Trenton, to parties of older friends who'd trotted off to art school in the city, to secret skateboard spots in Pennsylvania, and then back again several thousand times over. I know this tape still resides in a bag of crap in my closet and is sun-bleached and warbled from years and years of abuse. The tracklisting is way too embarrassing to include here, but I will admit that it includes a plainly retarded segueway from the Jesus & Mary Chain into 7 Seconds. (Links to Real Audio.)

This one here had a Buzzcocks (Real Audio) mix that someone made for me. Or maybe it was just a dub from a vinyl copy of "Singles Going Steady", which probably gave the above mixtape some fierce competition for play in the boombox at some point or another. Sadly, side two of this tape featured a dub of Joni Mitchell's "Blue" album, (stop laughing) which is a great example of the classic mis-step of tape making, especially when precious boombox battery power is at risk: Don't put something you're only in the mood to hear once a year on the flipside of something you consider part of your daily personal hygiene. To this day, I can not listen to the Buzzcocks without fashioning my hair into a tidy bun and pretending to be a librarian 45 minutes later.

Purchased at Topp's Appliances in East Brunswick, NJ for the explicit purpose of making a mixtape for the pasty-faced punky maiden I was madly in love with during senior year of high school. This tape was twice as expensive as the garden variety Maxell/TDK models in regular circulation at the time, but I figured it was important to spend a little cash on the lady. She was obsessed with Depeche Mode, (Real Audio) whom I pretended to like for a little while in the hopes of earning her sympathy. Instead, after graciously accepting the mixtape from me just prior to Christmas break, she never again spoke to or made eye contact with me, having been obviously disturbed by something on the tape. (Note to current teenagers attempting to win hearts of pasty-faced punky maidens by making them mixtapes: Reconsider the inclusion of any lengthy Hubert Selby spoken word pieces as "dramatic" conclusion to side one. Though fashionable at one time, this is now widely regarded as a fiercely stupid idea.)

WFMU Record Fair Approacheth November 4th, 5th, and 6th!

I suspect that most of you, like all of us here at WFMU, are pretty irresponsible about curbing the endless jones for acquiring more music. Do you visit foreign cities or remote college towns and casually try to sniff out the local record shops? Do you find it hard to resist thumbing through those boxes of stoop-sale vinyl that languish so helplessly on the curbsides of Carroll Gardens and Jersey City? Have you ever climbed INTO a dumpster because someone told you there were records in it?

Well, we have.

It should come as no great shock to you that every WFMU on-air personaility has a litany of vinyl or CD scoring tactics and stories that could easily be likened to peg-legged sailors swapping tales in some burnt-out bar stinking of vinegar and pipe tobbacky. That's part of the reason we cooked up the annual miracle that is The WFMU Record & CD Fair. And it's coming up again in just a couple weeks!

To set your imagination in motion, I could tell you about the indcredible Records & CDs I've scored in my years as a die-hard attendee of the Record Fair, or I could tell you about the amazing assortment of live bands that have graced the Record Fair stage. (Can I get a Metal Urbain? Is there a Cul de Sac in the house? Ladies and gentlemen, would Oneida, The Evolution Control Committee, Isaiah Owens, Dan Deacon, The Pontani Sisters, People Like Us, The Pretty Things, Flaming Fire, The Demolition Doll Rods, Brother JT, Laura Cantrell, and The Chocolate Watchband please approach the concession stand?) Or I could just tell you about the massive outpouring of WFMU-flavored love that this annual event has become. In so many ways, the Record Fair is the social event of the season for music scene elders, novices, band members, hipsters, weirdos, DJs, and even a celebrity or two because they already know what you're going to find out on November 4th, 5th, and 6th!

Download Kingface MP3s

The endlessly storied 1980's hardcore scene based around Washington DC is a topic I spent a good deal of time obsessing over during my formative years as a fan of the weirdo music. Every rotten generation has musical saving graces of one sort or another, and being a dispossessed and underachieving teenager while Government Issue, Scream, Shudder to Think, Beefeater, Soul Side, and a then-new group called Fugazi (click any band name to stream songs in Real Audio from the WFMU archives) were doing their thing is something that I still feel pretty fortunate for, given that most of my peers seemed eerily satisfied with the flaccid metal and pantywaist pop of that same era.

In 1984, I'd only been to DC once (with my parents, on vacation) but a handful of years later, I could rattle off two dozen miniscule bands, the names of the clubs they played at, what bands the members had been in previously, and all sorts of other esoteric crap that probably contributed to my nearly flunking out of school several times prior to graduation. It's a pretty typical phenomenom, actually, and I can sense a few of you shaking your heads right now with the recognition.

Always being the sort that was drawn to the outsider amongst the outsiders, one DC band that has remained a source of immense joy for me so many years later is Kingface. Although they performed alongside all the fabled bands who propelled the Dischord record label to international prominence as a premier source of underground rock music, Kingface was neither A.) a hardcore band, or B.) part of Dischord's roster of bands.

Off-Mic DJ News for September, 2005

Though I'm loathe to shatter the commonly held fantasy that all WFMU staffers (pictured right) live together in a big house, eat communal meals at a large wooden table, and are lead in song each night by Ken (front row, extreme left), who keeps time by beating a wooden spoon against an old rusty pot, the sad fact of the matter is that some of us have lives outside the immediate realm of broadcasting. This month, I am able to dish out the following details.

Music Director, Program Director, and self-described "hoagie kingpin" Brian Turner will be spreading the WFMU love like so much apple butter while DJing along with Plastic Crimewave Sound's Steve Krakow and Dublab Sound System at the giant ARTHUR Magazine festival on September 4th and 5th in Los Angeles. The show features three stages and musical performances over the two days from various luminaries of screen and stage like Sonic Youth, Yoko Ono, Merzbow, T-Model Ford, Circle, Comets On Fire, Sunn o))), Olivia Tremor Control, Earth, and many more. You can get more info on the hoo-haw by clicking here.

Closer to home, WFMU's Mr. Finewine, host of the Downtown Soulville program continues to spin
sixties and seventies soul 45s in all their infinite variety and magnificence on Wednesday nights at NYC's Botanica Bar, a glorious tradition that dates back to 1996. This is not "classic soul", but rather the obscure stuff that never made it out of Detroit, New Orleans, Norfolk, or Mobile. In other words, it's a death-defying (and drink-enabling) barrage of non-hits encompassing gritty drum-break-laden funk, sweet group soul with instantly stuck-in-your-head melodies, screaming southern deep-soul ballads, raw gospel, urban dance blues, mind-blowing overmodulated organ instrumentals, and more! You never know who may wander in, though recent sightings of Cut Chemist, Keb Darge, the Dirtbombs, and Eddie Vedder, would suggest it's worth finding out for your own bad self on any given Wednesday at Botanica, 47 East Houston St., NYC. 10 PM - closing, no cover.

Randy "Biscuit" Turner of the Big Boys

Word is just now coming out that Randy "Biscuit" Turner, vocalist and performer supreme of Texan legends The Big Boys has passed away. You can read his obituary here, and visit what will surely become a tribute site in the future right here.

Not being from Texas and also being too young to have experienced the miracle of the Big Boys firsthand, they were a band I discovered -- like many great things -- through the pages of badly photocopied fanzines in high school. Luminaries like Byron Coley, King Coffey (Butthole Surfers), Charles Maggio (Rorschach), Jeff Nelson (Minor Threat), Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth) have all sung their praises over the years for being a band that effectively made unlikely connections between genres (going so far as to perform alongside DC go-go legends Trouble Funk, in addition to all the respected Texan punk bands of the day, who somehow appeared bigger and meaner than the bands from any of the other disconnected scenes I worshipped from afar.)

UPDATE: You can stream a whole mess of Big Boys tracks right here in Real Audio. Be captivated all over again.

You're fuckin' pretty loud, New Jersey!

Because it's an utter act of criminal negligence that this is not readily available via a quick google search, we hereby present to you the mentally-defying sounds of the between-song banter that tumbled from the mouth of Venom vocalist Cronos when his band played at City Gardens, (Trenton, NJ).

Venom - Spoken Excerpts Recorded live at City Gardens (Download MP3) (Not safe for work)

Backstory: In 1986, Black Metal legends Venom played what some thought of as an unlikely bill with Rollins-era Black Flag at famed punk dump City Gardens, in scenic Trenton, New Jersey. The club was a magnet for all types of unsavory social elements -- skinheads, criminals, bikers, leather-studded punks, people who liked Meat Beat Manifeto, and so forth. Anyway, the punkers, metalheads, and general thugs who turned out for the show not only got to witness two of the more badass bands of the era sharing a stage, but were also treated to some of the most (unintentionally?) hilarious between-song stage banter ever, courtesy of Venom's knuckle-dragging vocalist Cronos.

WXHD Party in Wurtsboro, NY!

Although we here at WFMU give hourly acknowledgements to our sister station WXHD in the form of an FCC-mandated hourly station identification announcement, some might argue that the lip service ends right there and that we've never really done anything to cater specifically to the listeners to ou 90.1 signal in Mt. Hope, NY. It shouldn't be forgotten that although WXHD repeats FMU's programming, it really is its own radio station all by its big self. It has its own antenna, and its own transmitter, which is housed in a decrepit wooden shack, high atop the slopes of Mt. D'Antonio, where numerous Yeti-like creatures shriek endlessly into the inky night.

Now it goes without saying that our older and more established 91.1 signal is the one that gets listened to here in New Jersey, in Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, etc. whereas WXHD broadcasts across the endless, lush bounty of upstate locales like Matamoras, Newton, and Wurtsboro. You may have also noticed that "WFMU" is the corporate brand name that gets most of the play on our t-shirts and swag.
But on Sunday, August 28th, we're fixing to change all that by sending ourselves packing for the Uncommon Grounds Coffee Shop in Wurtsboro, NY for an afternoon of live (in person and over the air) DJ-ing courtesy of the one and only Gaylord Fields, to be coupled with all manner of bumpersticker/schedule/t-shirt/swag distribution upon the good people of what we affectionately refer to here as "XHD country." More details will be posted here in the coming weeks, so keep a sharp eye on the blog and a keenly tuned ear to WF.. I mean WXH... FEH, just keep doin' what yer doin', for crying out loud and sooner or later we'll show up with details.

Graffiti Analysis

Here are some great movie files from the Graffiti Analysis Project, which "makes visible the unseen movements of graffiti writers in the creation of a tag". Also includes stills, individual galleries for the featured artists, and an overall explanation of the project. (Watch the "View Capture Device" short first, to get a handle on how this works.) All the movies were shot in and around NYC and are accompanied by some piece of ambient music that I know I've heard on FMU, in an art movie, or in a Snickers commercial. I will buy a cookie at the Jersey City Au bon Pain for the first person who ID's it for me.

The Amazing Topography of Iggy Pop's Chest and Arm

 

No foolin'.

Damn.

(Click here to stream audio of The Ig's sweetly submissive appearance on the Dinah Shore Show, wherein he is grilled by Dinah alongside David Bowie and Rosemary Clooney. Or Rose Marie. Or possibly the cast of "Really Rosie".)

Lunch Minutes for 7.13.05

Most organizations with any semblance of order keep minutes for all their meetings, both formal and informal. At WFMU, most of the meetings amongst the small office staff fall into the informal category, with proper station procedure, technical issues, programming matters, and related cultural phenomena frequently discussed at the lunch table while gobbling down inexpensive takeout food. What follows are the lunchtime minutes for today, July 13th, 2005.

Those present for this meeting were: Ken Freedman, Scott Williams, Megan Murphy, Liz Berg, myself, + volunteers Wendy, Greta, and Ed Word. Brian Turner, Moshik, and Bill Zurat were also present, but were forced to eat in the other room because of poor behavior at yesterday's meeting.

The menu: Most of us ordered from a local Asian place called Nutty Handjob's. A few non-believers either brought food from home or ordered slop from some other place that I can't necessarily endorse. In most cases, lunch was complemented by icy cold and delicious (i.e. "free") water.

The topic of today's lunch discussion was hippies. (Yesterday, we talked about Oingo Boingo, so there is a logical progression evident at work here.) Here are some of the sub-categories of the hippie subject that were tackled this afternoon:

* The DJs on staff who either shy away from the hippie music, as opposed to those who embrace it warmly and cradle it to their bosom appreciatively.

Einstürzende Neueküchen

"Welcome to Einstürzende Neueküchen, a virtual cookbook of recipes contributed by the worldwide society of supporters and fans of Einstürzende Neubauten."

Including such classics as Hacke's Menemen and Blixa's Lemony Lentil Soup. Also includes links to the bandmember's official website(s) and other related projects, including the Musterhaus subscription-only experimental series of CDs.

Wear. Your. Bib.

Click. To. Stream.

Vintage Old Codger Archives Now Online!

Old Codger radio programs from the 1990s are being archived online. The Codge (a.k.a. Courtney T. Edison), the station's longtime irascible mascot, does not know these relics are preserved on the web -- and would not approve. He scorns all archival media except 78 rpm discs, which he professes to play "like they're goin' outta style." Despite beggary and threats, the Codger (he claims he's old enough to have been pals with Mark Twain) has never been given a regular program. However, since the early 1990s he has on various occasions filled in for The Hound, Irwin, and Laura Cantrell's Radio Thrift Shop. He lives in an East Orange bunker, surrounded by his precious 78 stacks. He's a cranky mutt, who taunts listeners by sneering, "I've got shoes older than you," while sputtering contempt for WFMU management and DJs.

The Codger -- who still hosts the occasional fill -- refuses to spin compact discs, vinyl LPs, cassettes, or any format except 78 platters, which he lugs to the station in a rickety shopping cart. He abuses studio equipment, and disregards station protocol with impunity. Once asked by a female staffer what he wanted for Christmas, he replied, "My house needs a dishwasher and a doormat. Which would you prefer to be?" The libidinous Codger is notorious for on-air come-ons to female admirers, smirking that he loves "younger women -- age 45 or 50," though he draws the line at "40-year-old jailbait." Though never married, Edison has been linked romantically to hefty torcher Sophie Tucker, vaudevillian Effie Cherry, actress Ida Lupino, R&B siren Nellie Lutcher, and TV sitcom vixen Betty Rubble.

About 35 Codger programs exist. Many new ones have just been posted for online listening. By the end of the summer, we expect to have all programs online.

If you want to call the Codger at home, he always touts his private line on the air. Since 1890 he's had the same phone number -- "6."

Off-Mic DJ Activities

With summer upon us here at WFMU, many of our DJs have stumbled (slow-zombie style) from our hallowed halls and gotten themselves involved with all manner of DJ gigs, rock shows, live appearances and other extra-curricular activities in a feeble attempt to kiss up to the guidance counselor. Though there's little hope for any of us getting into college someday, a few noble attempts have been made lately...

Laura Cantrell, proprietress of the Radio Thrift Shop and solo artist en route to the stars has just released her third LP (her first for Matador Records) entitled "Humming by the Flowered Vine" to truckloads of ballyhoo. You can download an MP3 of the song "14th Street" by right-clicking here,  check out what Vanity Fair had to say about Laura in this favorable review, or marvel at the miracle that is the Interactive Laura Cantrell NYC Subway Map. That ought to be more than enough to nudge you in the direction of Battery Park this 4th of July at 3:30 PM, when Laura performs with labelmates Yo La Tengo as well as Steven Malkmus. (More info here, all the way at the bottom of the page.)

In the event that you're reading from the charming suburb of Jersey City that we like to refer to as "London" and have an open dancecard on the evening of July 22nd, you can go see Vicki Bennett, aka People Like Us, perform live at The National Film Theatre as part of the Optronica Festival. We're pleased as punch to have welcomed Vicki's wholly astounding Do or DIY back to our airwaves for the summer schedule, and we look forward to her next stateside visit with open arms and hastily made karaoke plans. (She and Pseu Braun do an utterly bitchin' "Bohemian Rhapsody"...)

WFMU's Amazing Floating LP

As much as we here at WFMU tend to reject characterizing ourselves as "nutty," "wacky," "boffo," "screwy," "batty," "balmy," "loony," "goofy," "jokey," "nutso," "waggish," "bonkers," "cuckoo," "harebrained," "zany," "daffy," "cockamamie" or otherwise anything even closely resembling a state of being "totally bananas," this can still be a pretty weird place to hang around. Case in point: WFMU's mysterious and now-legendary floating record album.

Yes, WFMU's alphabetically-arranged record library is not only home to some of the tools of our trade -- that trade being freeform radio -- it is also home to a genuinely nomadic record. A record that can not be filed alphabetically. A record that knows nothing about structure or boundaries and refuses to hemmed in by that whole limitations trip the other records and CDs are always trying to lay on it. Considered in this light, it is very much a microcosm of our mission here at WFMU. In another way, it's a corny Russian jazz record with a name I can't type out on this keyboard. What makes it truly unique, however, is that every time one of our DJs comes across it in the stacks, it is their duty to then refile it someplace else. Anyplace else.

As you can see by the detail of the jacket, this tradition dates back to 1990. No one around here will fess up to starting it, however... Even Irwin claimed not to know anything about it, and he constantly ribs me for being such a kid in comparison to his elder statesmanship at FMU. (He recently reasoned that he'd been into the band Grauzone (click to stream Real Audio) since "before [I] was born", which leads me to believe that Irwin thinks I am only 11 years old.)

But back to the matter at hand: Hokey Russian Jazz records. Here's an MP3 (right-click to download)  of the second song on side one, the title of which reads something that (in Russian) looks like "Mpncmotpn Aahr MactylIok", which according to one of those online translation programs means "Electric Pork Tuxedo". (Other songs on the record not available for download include "Aeebea" ("Asphalt"), "By Abte Aoepbl" ("Lick my Boots"), and "Xaomanhte B AaaoIihn" ("Marmalade and Heroin".)

Word on the street is that this hot combo's LP was released in a limited, hand-numbered run of only 800 copies (ours is #49). In order to secure yours, I'd suggest you soon start jockeying for position at our next Record Fair, to be held November 4th-6th in Manhattan. In the meantime, I'm heading downstairs to re-file the LP. I'm feeling drawn to somewhere between the Creedence records and the last RJD2 12"...

Ungodly Quantity of Rare Music and Related Hooey on eBay!

We've just added a boatload of rare records, CDs, and other items to our eBay auctions page that'll get you frothed into a materialist frenzy in no time. An autographed copy of the The Saints' "Know Your Product" single (click to stream Real Audio), a boxed set of Bruce Springsteen fanzines from the 80s, some out-of-print Chris Ware comics, rare French moog CDs, and apparently, some naughty bits that you'll need age verification to look at. You can see the full listings of WFMU's current eBay auctions by clicking here. Our auctions are updated frequently, so be sure to check back often, lest you miss that 3rd edition Incredible String Band commemorative magic marker/whistle/bottle opener you've been hankering for.

Sites for Sore Eyes

From cameo TV appearances from grunge rock icons to floating Russian women to fear-mongering French people, Sites for Sore Eyes distills the web down to its most quizzical, unusual, and fascinating corners. This month, we offer the following for your consideration:

A Steel Drum Tribute to the Ramones
Ramones songs have been re-done in every style under the sun, and though I'm still holding out for chanting monks re-interpreting the entire "Road to Ruin" LP to ambient trip-hop beats, this is a reasonable diversion for the moment.

Unconfirmed Reports
Is it....? I mean, could it be? It couldn't be.... Could it?

King Buzzo of the Melvins
Caught in the stands, enjoying America's Pastime, & then ridiculed by television announcers. I still think he's got cool hair.

Make the Collector Nerds Sweat
To hell with your mortgage, car payments, or kid's future. Someone -- probably with the word "vinyl" in their email address -- is dropping a wad to take home this mind-bending stash.

Auto-Music's Automachine!
Release Stereo Total's next album before they do!

DirtDirt.com's Headacher
Don't eat the brown html, kids.

The Virtual Museum of the Boombox
In many ways, the boombox was the cultural bridge from the suburbs to the city. Re-live the magic here, while marveling over innovative (i.e. stupid) features like the boombox with a built-in synthesizer, the boombox with THREE tape decks, or the boombox with a built-in... phone jack?

Iraq War Fatalities
As "mapped across the dimensions of time and space". Note that this only charts coalition deaths, not those of the Iraqi soldiers or civilians. It's especially disquieting if you watch it with the map and city boxes unchecked.

Roger Moore's Fantabulous Eyebrows
'Nuff said.

Free-falling Russian Gymnist
The lava lamp for the 21st Century set. Or perhaps just another mildly pervy but totally addictive waste of company time and bandwidth.

Computer Programmer or Serial Killer?
It's as difficult as you'd expect to determine the difference, I'm troubled to say.

Many, many thousands of movie title screen shots
Why? I can not tell you, my friend.

Children who have been abducted by aliens
And the pictures they have subsequently drawn. Also includes information regarding thought-screen hats, which prevent FOUR (4) different breeds of aliens from reading your mind.

The Fatal Consequences of Masturbation
I dunno, I thought it made sophomore year go by a lot quicker. Feh, alarmists...

This month's links were contributed by Irwin Chusid,  Brian Turner, Evan "Funk" Davies, Lou Ziegler, Ken Freedman, Listener Pete from Boston (and NJ), Mister Science, and the editor.

WFMU Yard Sale Wrap Up

WFMU's third un-annual Yard Sale was nothing short of a hoot and a vinyl huntin' dollah hollah! We cleared our pathetically overstuffed basement of thousands of dollar records, so as to make way for new donations, and we also unloaded our equipment closet of things like antique cart machines, mini-disc recorders, and a slightly water-damaged but otherwise workable Technics 1200 turntable, all for something south of five bucks apiece. If you didn't make it, you can either console yourself with the knowledge that our utterly legendary (and 200 times as big) Record & CD Fair will be back in effect on November 4th, 5th, and 6th, or you can listen (Real Audio) to the live edition of Seven Second Delay that was taped during the yard sale, during which Andy Breckman offered one minute of face time for the paltry sum of one dollar. Per minute. The wily OCDJ, who moonlights under the employ of Mr. Breckman, used his dollar wisely as you can see from this picture, in which he enjoys an uninterrupted 60 second Andy hug while Ken Freedman and Gaylord Fields look on. This was a particularly sly move on OCDJ's part -- there's no way Breckman can ever fire him now. You can check out more pix from the WFMU yard sale in this post, including one of Diane Kamikaze's amazing Egyptian Pharaoh skeleton guitar case, and another one of some dude with a mohawk buying it off her. (Thanks to Listener Max for the pic.)

Crazy Eddie Rides Again

Anyone who grew up near a television set in the NYC area probably remembers the commercials for the discount electronics and record chain "Crazy Eddie". Thanks to WFMU Listener Pete from Boston (and NJ) for discovering the acerbic TV spots that were an immense point of pride for us tri-staters now have a tribute page online.

New Coffee to Go Podcast

No, as a matter of fact we won't shut up about Podcasting. To wit, we hereby present the new edition of Coffee to Go, which highlights the latest unsigned beats and rhymes for your ongoing hip hop edification. You can subscribe to the Coffee to Go podcast by going here, download it and listen to it whenever you want to by right-clicking here, or stream it as you would any other WFMU MP3 archive by clicking here. That's a whole lotta options, which is what we're all about here at this little magic-factory-on-the-Hudson. You can find out more about Coffee to Go, or the myriad other programs we're podcasting by visiting WFMU's Podcast Centralia. Allez!

Summertime Necessities

The tropical suburbs of Jersey City are burnin' these days, my friends. The air is thick and chunky to the point where it sticks to your body as you navigate from your spread-legged stance over the fan to the cooler of Coronas across the room. To the air conditioner-deprived among us, days like this signify life becoming a frustratingly expensive hobby of trouncing from Mexican restaurant to movie theater to bar to bookstore to friend's car to... the local drag strip? Maybe if you're lucky enough to have one in your neighborhood, but if not, you'd do right to check out the greatest musical harbinger of the sweaty season: Big Stick's summertime anthem "Drag Racing". Right click to download the MP3, and then consider the legendary lyric:

"...In the summer I wear my tube top and Eddie takes me to the drag strip..."

Crash Course in Radio Technology

I spent this morning at WFMU's transmitter, assisting Chief Engineer John Fogarazzo, or "The Fog Machine", as we affectionately refer to him around here at the Magic Factory. Our transmitter is located in a heavily guarded bunker in East Orange, and accessing it requires a complicated series of fingerprint verifications, retina scans, and the presentation of multiple forms of identification, including this one.

Over the years, I've been sent on many of these missions with John, and I look forward to them because he often bestows some of his considerable knowledge of radio science upon me. As someone who still doesn't really understand how the little bumps on the record make the music come out when they touch the needle, I'm hopeful that these lessons will one day transform me into the Edwin Howard Motherfuckin' Armstong of my generation. This is what I learned today:

This:

 

doesn't do the same thing as this:

Yo Deseo Ser Su Perro

It seems that "I Wanna Be Your Dog" by Iggy & the Stooges has achieved placement in that special realm of recorded sound we know as "The Popular Standard". Looky here to download many, many cover versions of the classic room-shaker.

And if those leave any doubt in your mind, come back here and check out some of our faves (all streaming Real Audio from the WFMU archives) such as:

- Archigram's mega ass-shakin' version of the Stooges' hit
- Allun's more amateurish take on those same mystical chords
- Bob Hund's uniquely Swedish rendering
- A bedroom-recorded acapella version by Ed Schneider
- A futuristic electrojam cover by Futon
- The terrifyingly atrocious parody from the Seven Stooges -- a record that comes with a barf bag.

I'm sure this is exactly the sort of thing that Iggy had in mind and he can thank DJs Bill Zurat, David Suisman, Ken, Irwin, Michael Goodstein, and Brian Turner for keeping the flame alive.

WFMU's Stunt Turntable

WFMU recently acquired what we in the radio biz refer to as a Stunt Turntable (MP3), which is to say, we've acquired a Numark TT-100 to aid in the creation of good, freeform radio. This new Stunt Turntable not only plays records, but it plays them backwards, forwards, and at pitches so freely adjustable that many DJs openly weep at the mere thought of it. This Stunt Turntable also has a number of visual elements that are sadly lost on the listening audience due to radio's limited opportunities for visuals. For your further education on WFMU procedure, here are a few recent stills of WFMU DJs pushing the new Stunt Turntable to the limits.

Brian Turner    Liz Berg     Scott Williams     Vicki Bennett     John Allen and Fabio

New Communication Breakdown Podcast now available

The new edition of Chris T.'s utterly filthy and totally unsafe for work Communication Breakdown is now available for download, which you can do  here (right click to download MP3.) You can also stream Communication Breakdown as you would any other WFMU archive by going here, or sign up to have each new edition of the show automatically downloaded to your computer via the miracle of Podcasting, which you can learn more about by visiting Podcast Central.

New Coffee to Go Podcast

The new edition of Coffee to Go with Noah Zark, the podcast sister show to Coffee Break for Heroes and Villains is now available to satisfy all your cravings for underground hip hop. You can download the show right now (MP3), or you can stream it as you would any other WFMU archived program by clicking here. Coffee to Go is just one of fifteen WFMU programs that are available as podcasts. You can sign up to have any of our podcasts delivered to your computer automatically by visiting WFMU's Podcast Centralia.

Get your protest on

Like most people with even a chicken-nugget sized brain, I'm pretty pissed off about the state of the world most of the time and I'm betting that you are too. By (multiple) request, here is one of the truly great protest songs of our day and age. Sam and Joe's "Save the Children" (Right click to download MP3 -- Not safe for Work), as it was meant to be heard in its full, un-edited glory. This track is originally from the excellent "Fear of Smell" compilation (1992, Vermiform Records) which is still available here. It's a rant that not only covers the general "war is bad, it would be groovy if everyone had enough food" ideologies, but also ventures into the largely unchartered "I demand the right to masturbate whenever I want to" sentiment.
 

My iPod Weighs a Ton

Killer collection of Public Enemy MP3s here. Live stuff, remixes, and other related oddities. Also included are the tracks from one of those hokey interview CDs that get serviced to college radio stations which only contain the answers to the scripted questions in the CD's booklet. These marvels of the record industry enable any doof with a radio show to do a "live" interview with the band or artist in question. Years ago, on another radio station, I interviewed Michael Hutchence of INXS in this fashion, shortly after his strangubation.

Do Something Dreadful to Your Television

It's no great secret that TV SUCKS. But the seemingly endless collection of  RealMedia clips housed at TV Ark do a fantastic job of re-writing some local history. Folks who are native to WFMU's broacast area can sort the collection to feature just the New York City material, and will subsequently lose countless hours while plowing through ancient promo clips of 11 Alive's Action News helmet-haired newsteam, Channel 9's Million Dollar Movie intro, Emergency Broadcast System tests, public affairs promo spots, and other wonderfully primitive works of videography. If you listen to WFMU from elsewhere in the country, you can sort the clips for your area with this link. (Via Mr. Science's X818)

It Must be the Russians

Inspired by the chatter regarding THE RUSSIANS on this blog lately, I was reminded of this great link to old Russian Propaganda, Entertainment, & Military posters that was sent in by Listener Joe.

Which, in turn, reminded me of the (many) relevant tracks by one of the 20th Century's greatest poets, Attila the Stockbroker, and from his brilliant "Ranting at the Nation" LP, we present the following MP3s of intellectual accompaniment:

(Right click to download)

They Must be Russians

Russians at the Henry Regatta

Russians in the DHSS

Russians in MacDonalds

I first heard Attila on college radio back in the 80s and was immediately transfixed by the clarity of his rants, his often-hilarious demeanor, and what remains a wholly unchallenged sense of smart assed-ness. Some of his more recent works can be had by going here, or for a further taste of what Attila's been up to, here is a droplink to the RealAudio archive of his appearance on Pat Duncan's show from July of 2002.

While we're giving it up for the Russians, let's also pause and reflect on the sexual-hygenically minded brilliance of early 80s po-punk-new-wavers They Must be Russians and their cautionary epic "Don't Try to Cure Yourself" (Right click to download MP3) as well as this RealAudio nugget from WFMU's Listener Hour archives. November 2nd, 2002 edition with your host The White Russian. Сразить, мои друзья!

The Song in a DJ's Heart, Part II

For five years running now, WFMU has closed out our annual fundraising marathon with a cavalcade of singing DJs, each performing a song of their own choosing while backed up by the Hoof & Mouth Sinfonia -- a live karaoke band comprising even still more WFMU DJs. To paraphrase the great Scott Williams, (seen here taking a much-deserved break between sessions) who acts as Hoof & Mouth organizer and band leader supreme, this event is the source for our most animated water-cooler discussions in the 364 days that precede each annual performance of the band. Recollections of whose performances were the best, most drunkenly delivered, or most juxtaposed to that particular DJs playlists are all elements that figure into these discussions. (Efforts to convince Fabio to perform "True" by Spandau Ballet have consistently failed, year after year.)

We're gluttons for tradition around here, and tradition clearly dictates that this mess takes place not only on the airwaves of WFMU, but on a webcam feed as well, effectively delivering these hastily rehearsed renditions of the classics live from our main studio and into the hard drives of FMU listeners scattered across the globe. This year, ace listener Jeff T not only captured and recorded the entire thing, but has edited it down into convenient, DJ-sized chunks, which we are now pleased to present for your horror/amusement here.

A different kind of nose candy

For years, your girlfriend has been going to Yoga class on Tuesday nights. No problem, right? A bunch of people laying around in sweatpants, stretching, listening to multi-kulti CDs, going "oooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmm" and then talking about "energy"  -- what could possibly be more wholesome? Then again, have you ever asked her for more specific details? Do you really know all that yoga can entail?

Listener Zaphod brings us just one horrific possibility. Click here to view the .WMV movie file.

Feed on THIS.

More

It Was Easy, It Was Cheap

Inspired by the glut of MP3 blogs that I've been trowling of late, I spent the other night rifling through my own records on a quest to dig out some bits of musical esoterica from my past that might make for interesting reading. Naturally, I do this every week to some degree in preparation for my radio show, but there's a large chasm dividing music that's sonically pleasing and music that also has a decent story attatched to it. Suffice it to say, it was hard to decide exactly what I'd end up making you all come sniffing around the curb for. After I'd torn apart the record shelves, scattered picture sleeves across my kitchen, unearthed 45s from under the bed, and otherwise generally destroyed my apartment for the purpose of a decent blog post, I settled on a small stack of 45s by a monosyllabically wonderful late 80s band from NYC called GO!

Destruction Minded

Courtesy of the mighty Kenzo, we present for your workday distraction, short video clips of everything from cardboard to aluminum cans to refrigerators to washing machines to mattresses and computers being run through an industrial shredder.

A brief aside: When I was a little kid, I used to go into the trash, collect bottles, and smash them in the street on my way home from school. Then when I was 11, I set out on a mission to destroy every last toy I had with the aid of a hammer from my father's toolbox. About a year later, I blew up that same toolbox in the woods behind my house with the aid of recently acquired fireworks. At 14, I started a fire. Then when I was 17, I briefly flirted with the popular local sport of using my car (a 1981 Volkswagen Rabbit) to propel shopping carts into brick walls at 45 miles an hour in the middle of the night.

Meaning: The appreciation for ritualized destruction never dies, apparently.

Classically Keytarded

This is kind of like watching the Croatian version of The Great Kat.

This is also kind of like being punched repeatedly in the solar plexus.

This link was sent in by Volunteer Tom.

Thanks, Tom.

(Click image to view video of Belinda Bedekovic totally tearing it up on the keytar.)

Squirrel Fishing. At Harvard.

"The Division of Engineering and Applied Sciences has significantly expanded its Computer Systems work in recent years. However, there has been a noticeable lack of quality work on Rodent Performance Evaluation. This study is a first attempt to remedy this deficiency. We chose gray squirrels as our subject of study because of their abundance in the immediate surroundings of the Aiken Computation Lab, with many large oak trees nearby. The primary investigators in this study are Yasuhiro Endo and Nikolas Gloy... Early attempts to measure squirrel performance involved chasing them around and trying to guard all nearby trees by a sufficient number of researchers, but these efforts were mostly fruitless. Another method involved building primitive traps from cardboard boxes and 10baseT Ethernet cables, but these cables either attracted unwanted attention or got lost high up in trees."

More here.

Apparently, this is a popular collegiate practice that has escaped me for some time.
Thanks to Listener Joe for sending this along.

The Song in a DJ's Heart

I don't lay claim to much, and I'm not one of those guys who brags about doing, seeing, hearing, or smoking something way before it got trendy and all the kids in Brooklyn started doing it, but I'm also a big enough guy to stand up and take the blame for something bad that I've done. Like the time I accidentally burned down that puppy sanctuary. I'm still losing sleep over that one.

A more recent case in point: You know how Kenny G has been starting his Wednesday show by singing a few songs karaoke style? Ummm.... that's kinda my fault. He started doing that after I organized a WFMU night out at a Chinatown karaoke bar last year. If memory serves, this particular evening was a going-back-to-England party for Vicki Bennett, and featured brilliant performances from Monica ("Never Been to Me"), Pseu Braun (some Queen song with a lot of "la la la"'s in it) and Ken ("We Are the World"). Actually, Ken was up on the stage 3 or 4 times that night. Total karaoke whore, that guy is. Those flaming shots obviously go right to his head. Anyhow, everybody's performance was out-of-the-ballpark stellar and earned the appreciation of the other patrons as well as a drunk dwarf sitting on the side of the stage, who pumped his fist with approval after each DJ's performance.

Except when Kenny G sang.

Kenny had never sung karaoke before that evening and I'm sure he wouldn't mind me telling you that he rather plainly sucked at it. (Certainly not the fault of the song he picked, which was "Hava Nagilah" -- a cornerstone of the entire karaoke phenom.) However, I think that evening is what planted the seed in his head that lead to catastrophic on-air events such as this: (Right click to download AVI file of Kenny and Irwin singing karaoke on the air last Wednesday.)

It is for this and at least 51 other Wednesday afternoons that I offer my most sincere and humble apologies for.

This all got me thinking about other instances of DJs singing on the airwaves of WFMU. (You know, lest you think Kenny and Irwin have the market entirely cornered...) Now for the purpose of this blog post, I am purposefully excluding the extravagant cavalcade of singing DJs that's facilitated by the Hoof n' Mouth Sinfonia at the conclusion of our annual fundraising marathon each year, and scheduled to occur once again on March 20th at 7 PM. That's a whole 'nother blog post for a different day.

What follows here are just a few shining examples of WFMU DJs spontaneously bursting into song while behind the mic, in the midst of their shows. It is by no means a complete list, and if you know of other instances and can supply me with specific archives and approximate start times, feel free to send 'em along and I'll add them to the permanent record.

Tom Scharpling sings Elton John

Ken Freedman sings "Begin the Beguine"

Pseu Braun, Scott Williams, Mike Lupica, Megan Murphy, Vicki Bennett, Maria, and Marty the Dog sing "Annie's Song"

Charlie Lewis sings "Goin Out of my Head"

Nachum Segal wraps up the 2003 JM in the AM Marathon

All sound clips will open with Real Player.

And as stated, since we are currently in the midst of the WFMU Fundraising Marathon, which is traditionally the time of year when the most DJ-soul-baring takes place, I would expect a lot more spontaneous croonings, incantations, and tuneful squakings in the coming days. And make sure you tune back in on the 20th to hear how alcohol coupled with extreme fundraising exhaustion affects our collective perception of good taste. With a live karaoke band taking center stage.

Head Had AIDS

I've been waiting for some excuse to inflict this little beauty on people, and WFMU's recently hatched blog seems like just the venue...

No matter what cultural depths the New York Post sinks to, nothing -- I repeat, nothing -- trumps this miracle of garbage journalism, as published by my local paper back in the late 80s. If you travel anywhere south of New Brunswick, the Trentonian is widely known for having no equal in the realm of rampantly misspelled gossip, the trashing of local government officials, and in-depth features on scantily-clad page six girls. Yet here in the NYC metro area, the visceral joy that can be gleaned from it on a daily basis goes largely unappreciated.

The Head Had AIDS fiasco, as I recall, was the final cover story on an unsolved murder case that began weeks prior with the discovery of a badly-decomposed human head on a central Jersey golf course. The dismembered dome was in such a state that investigators at first couldn't even determine the sex of the victim. Several days later, lab tests revealed the victim was not only female, but also had been HIV positive, and the Trentonian splashed the miraculous cover story across the unsuspecting hordes of Mercer County dwellers in unabashedly straightforward language.

Amazingly, this headline is now actually used as a reference in the curriculum of several collegiate journalism programs, as a shining example of what you're not supposed to do. (Note that the cover also suggests that the Mets had won, which is obvious bullshit.) I've heard that original copies of this edition of the paper show up on eBay from time to time carrying an impressive pricetag. Who ever woulda thunk...

Thanks to Jon for finally tracking down an image of this on the internet, and to Scott for reminding me that I had it stashed in the nether regions of my hard drive.

We Hate Sun Ra

And we're not telling you why

(Right click to download 10 meg AVI file)

Guess the DJ Locker, Round 2

It's on to round two of the Guess-the-DJ-Locker game... The competition in round one was pretty fierce, but after the dust settled, it was Listener Fextone whose mastery of the WFMU air-schedule (and the mentally bent people behind it) who showed up for class with the right answer.

For those of you who missed the beginning of this contest, it's not too late to get in on the action. So for the benefit of the unitiated, here is the skinny:

1) Every few days, we will post a different LP cover from the DJ locker room. (Pictured below.)

2) We will only show LP covers for lockers of DJs who are on the current on air schedule.

3) One guess per listener / reader per LP cover, as judged by their IP number.

4) Once the correct cover has been guessed, we will announce that on the comments list. The first person to correctly identify four DJs, wins one of our stylee WFMU Messenger Bags.

5) This is harder than it seems. *Think* about your answer before you go swiping wildly at the dank air of the accursed blogosphere. There may not be a winner.

On to today's entry:

And here's a Real Audio Sample from Scott Williams' show to help get you in zee mood while you consider your answer.

Laura Cantrell in the Daily News

Here's a quick writeup of WFMU's Laura Cantrell from today's Daily News.

Howard Stern vs. New York Press

Last week, while on my way to the Magic Factory, I heard the tail end of an on-air shouting match between Howard Stern and a (by the time I tuned in) un-named representative of New York Press. They were duking it out over the Press recently including Stern in their 50 Most Loathsome New Yorkers piece, in which they summarily dismissed Stern by saying:

We never cared for Howard's mooky blatherings, but we support him in his 11th-hour conversion to free-speech champion. Too bad the jackass waited so long to take a stand... a more chickenshit millionaire you'd be hard-pressed to find. He choked when he ran for governor, helping instead to elect the biggest tax-and-spend Republican in New York history (who gave us two of the biggest subway fare hikes in history). With his money and fan base, Stern could've taken on the criminals at the FCC a long time ago, but as always, the smut jock went ostrich, burying his face in a pair of fake tits while the Constitution got crumpled. Come to think of it, scratch the opening line. We hope Ashcroft locks him away for 10 to 20.

I assume that some behind the scenes back and forthing between the Stern camp and the Press had gone down, eventually leading to the on-air spat I heard the tail end of. It was only today that I learned that the NY Press rep he'd been hollering at was none other than Jeff Koyen, editor of the now-defunct and truly legendary Crank fanzine, which lives on in the pixelated glory of the highly fashionable PDF format right here, and is well worth your attention.

UPDATE: Thanks to Listener Gummi, you can now hear the audio of Stern and Koyen's argument regarding Howard's recent FCC battles, the heavy fines that had been handed to his employers because of his on-air behavior, and Koyen's assertion that Stern was wussing out on his alleged commitment to free speech. Howard's rebuttal mainly comprised the traditional rap in which he portrays himself as stridently and single-handedly saving the day for free speech by bravely retreating to outer space (well, satellite radio), where he can drop the f-bomb and whistle at the boobies without fear of government intervention or financial penalties. Koyen had a different angle, which was of course shouted down, but he elaborates further on it in tantalizing detail right here.

Big hot dog tramples wealthy liberals in park, makes mean face, enjoys refreshing beverage

I was figuring that since everybody and their brother was in Central Park last weekend for the unveiling of The Gates, one of my esteemed FMU colleagues would've already posted about it here. We are an arty bunch, after all... Here's a rather gigantic photo of the exhibit as seen from space, courtesy of the very cool and very addictive Space Imaging website.

I've been reaping a lot of joy from the predictably cartoonish response the exhibit has earned from people who thought it was a complete waste of time. I got into one such argument with my brother, who loudly declared via email from his suburban tract-mansion that The Gates were "stupid", "a waste of money", and "not real art". Having known my brother long enough to realize when he's baiting me with editorial nonsense picked up from some easy cultural whipping post like Fox News, I sweetly pointed out that the project was self-financed, wasn't costing the city anything, and was in fact creating jobs as well as generating hundreds of thousands of dollars in business for local bars and restaurants that all the visitors were promptly descending on all weekend. (My companion and I had to beat it all the way down to 23rd and 9th to find a restaurant that wasn't totally packed.)

As for the idea that the Gates were not "real" art -- a popular opinion also espoused in a few of the raggier city dailies, by dorks in golf pants, and by a bunch of artists who paint tourist portraits in the park for a living, well,  that's an opinion too stupid for even me to bother arguing. "I don't like it" is a perfectly valid artistic opinion, but apparently not enough for the modern and sophisticated naysayer. It's more important to  declare yourself the absolute authority and expect the rest of the world to live or die by your expert judgment. Eh? EH???

Truth be told, I wasn't particularly bowled over by The Gates myself. I only found it visually stimulating once I got up near 80th Street and was able to look back towards Columbus Circle with a bit of elevated perspective. The more enjoyable parts were being out on a beautiful afternoon, appreciating all the work and planning that went into pulling off such a monster project, watching little kids try to climb up the posts, seeing the celebrity couples strolling around holding hands, watching teenagers send text messages and walk their robot dogs, and generally making mental notes of all that other faux-pastoral small town horseshit people always carry on about when they write about New York City.

As for the Gates not being "real art" idea, I found myself once again fighting the creeping urge I always get in these instances to pinpoint a really upsetting or challenging work of creativity, and proudly display it as an object of appreciation for people who share my brother's artistic outlook. Musically, this is a common and easy practice for many of us who spent our teens living out the under-achieving, negative asshole stereotype like I did. Arriving at WFMU later on in life with some kind of profound agenda at hand, these issues are routinely worked out of our systems on a weekly basis and reflected in the music we choose to play. For me, an earlier example harkens back to when I first started doing radio in 1992, which was just about the same time that the Spin Doctors were becoming popular. At my old radio station, whenever I would get a request for said band, I would instead play music by  quasi-legendary Trenton noiseniks the Scornflakes, (click to hear RealAudio archive) who had a record out that I was able to scientifically prove would make all fans of the Spin Doctors feel like shit about themselves (forever.) I admit, doing this was immature but was (and still is) very satisfying. There's still some part of me that appreciates the heedless joy of being stared at blankly by Joe and Mary Suburbanite for expressing an appreciation of something edgier than The Little Mermaid.

Of course, achieving that kind of satisfaction on the visual arts front can be loosely approximated any number of ways. One favorite that recently snapped back to my immediate focus would be Ron Mueck's "Mask", which I was able to view in all its terrifying splendor last November at the Saatchi Gallery in London. This photo doesn't do it proper justice, but when you walk into the gallery and are directly confronted by it, your bowels will definitely do that same rumbling bass thing you hear at the beginning of the Scornflakes track. (It's gotta be close to 15 feet tall.)

And make no mistake: Any number of the exhibits at the Saatchi would utterly terrify the lightweights and pansies who were frightened by the big, mean orange shower curtains in Central Park. I definitely recommend shelling out the money to visit the gallery if you're ever in England, no matter how bad the exchange rate gets.

While it's a no-brainer that Mask would upset my brother (I think he liked the Spin Doctors after all), London is inconveniently far away. There's no way I could get him into a museum like that or have him sit through even the first minute of a Scornflakes record. So clearly, an easier way for me to have some fun with this familial argument and flesh out my responsibilities as the creepy little brother is to rough up his email box with a link to this mind-bending commercial for Afri-Cola, created by Charles Wilp in 1968. That'll give him nightmares. (You can  view many more decidedly un-commercial commercials for the fizzy beverage on the Afri-Cola website, most of which will handily relegate all that overhyped hooey seen during the Superbowl to the trash.)

If that doesn't work, I'll invite him to have a seat and enjoy a good long stare at Ivan Witenstein's fantastically jaw-dropping hot dog sculpture. Yes, my friends... that is indeed a six-foot hot dog squirting ketchup and mustard all over itself with a stillborn black infant emerging from the lower quarters. It's called:

Watch her younger year by year
Stare her back in time,
Teach her the four food groups
Hotdogs, pussy, beer, and crime.

Try rationalizing that one for someone who as a teenager didn't have any better records for me to steal than ELO, Linda Rondstadt, and the Beach Boys' "Endless Summer".

(Thanks to Listener Jen, Listener Jaybob, Brian Turner, and Dan Ruccia for link-assistance and inspiration.)

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Rolling Scabs!

I love a good musical mystery as much as anyone here at WFMU. One of my favorites involves a song I heard on my local college radio station almost 15 years ago, driving home at 4 in the morning, and then shivering in my idling car for 10 extra minutes so I could hear the most-likely-stoned DJ back announce the set and add the song to my ever-growing list of potential aural conquests. I'd bet you a thousand bucks that any of my WFMU compadres could share their experience about a song like that, but since I got here first, we're going to talk about west coast kiddie-kore greats, The Rolling Scabs.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Sort of. It was sometime around 1991 and I'd heard this ridiculous song played by what sounded like a couple of snot brained pre-teens who'd maybe heard a Flipper record, and then picked up instruments for the first time. They didn't have a guitar player -- at least not in the band's theme song, (MP3) which was now locked sturdily in my cranium (thanks to the obviously heisted bassline from "Now I Wanna be Your Dog" by Iggy and the Stooges) -- and it seemed like they were making up the lyrics on the spot. Since there was no such thing as instant musical gratification (i.e. the internet) in those days, I got my first copy of the song the old fashioned way: I poised my finger on the record button on my home stereo and with my free dialing finger, I annoyed the shit out of the local DJ until s/he played it.

Fast forward about 8 years. I am in California visiting friends who live in the the Mission District (pictured below... no it's not usually that sunny there) and am harboring a record shopping jones that won't quit. If you've never been there, San Francisco is kind of like dying and going to record shopping heaven. In addition to Amoeba Records and the innumerable smaller shops that speckle the left coast paradise, records are often also on sale in delis, coffee shops, launderettes, and bars. I can't remember where I was when I finally found the Rolling Scabs record, but I'm sure my heart skipped a beat when I saw that wonderful goldenrod nightmare staring me at me squarely from the dusty bin for a measly $2.50.

Owning the record began answering questions that my cruddy radio-tape version of "We're the Scabs" hadn't even begun to ask. Not only were the Rolling Scabs a pair of 12 year olds being backed up by musicians with names like Tony Fag and Susan California, but the record had been recorded live at the famed Gilman Street Project punk dive, and perhaps most shockingly, it had been dedicated to "the living memory" of lead vocalist Giuliano "The Scab" Bourbon, 1975-1990.

Huh?? One of the little kids sporting the MDC t-shirts was dead? This quote from the liners revealed the shocking details:

"...last summer, word filtered out that Giuliano "The Scab" Bourbon was really dead. His live for the moment philosophy played itself out in a tragic accident of which the details are still sketchy. Apparently, the boy genius had rigged up a way to hitch rides hanging from a rickety elevator in the Connecticut mansion he was living in. Well, on this fateful day, Giuliano would not make it all the way down. His natural curiosity would get the best of him and his short life on this earth was brought to a confusing finish."

Hmmm, anyone smell an elaborate music scene in-joke unfurling here? Was this whole Rolling Scabs legend/death story some sort of complex hoax? Maybe, maybe not... But the fact that the above liners were credited to one "N. Tufnel, retired musician and noted rock historian" didn't lend a whole lotta credibility to the story, since everybody knows that "N. Tufnel" is short for "Nigel Tufnel" of Spinal Tap -- the greatest, most elaborate musical hoax of all time.

True or not, the rest of the record was just as good as the one song I'd already heard. To wit, the Rolling Scabs draw a line in the sand, and then dare others to cross it in the epic "My Mom Smokes Pot" (MP3). Consider the lyrical questions raised in the following passages:

"My mom smokes pot! All she ever does is sitting on that bed (sic), coughing off her big fat head! Yeaoaaah! Looking at the mirror watching her warts!... Marijuana has a first name, it's W-E-E-D! Marijuana has a second name it's J-O-I-N-T! And we smoke it every day blaehehahea! Marijuana has a way of fucking up the U.S.A. Today!"

Then there's the tribute to the never-realized Rolling Scabs world tour, "Around the World in 80 Seconds" (MP3) which confuses various Asian cultures with one another in a classic, ignorant-twelve-year-old kind of way.

"We're gonna go to China, buy some chopsticks, eat some rice. Sumo wrestling, find an oriental girl, do everything I wanna do in China... Eat some sushi in Japan, visit the Great Wall..."

Truly, the stuff of legend... But as is so often the case with many great things, my copy of the Rolling Scabs 45 fell behind the stereo (in the cosmic sense, that is) and was entirely forgotten about until I took it upon myself to unearth a true diamond in the rough for this blog. In the hopes that the internet had caught up with the band's considerable legend, I googled them before creating this post and came up with the usual results... a few radio playlist pages from freeform pals KALX and WPRB, but one curiously well-informed post regarding the band, written in a similarly ambiguous manner as the above-quoted liners... Could this guy be holding out on us? What's he hiding? Could he somehow be involved in a coverup? The world may never know, but in the cultural DMZ that you and I know as 2005, it's clear enough to me that hoax or not, the Rolling Scabs were just too good to last.

Fuzz Guitar Appreciation Society

Mainly because it's been in my head for a week, but also because it's a killer tune, I am pleased to present Ronnie Ong's blazin' cover of "Buttons and Bows"  as heard on the Steam Kodak compilation re-issue of 60s Southeast Asian underground rock. According to the liner notes, the dashing Mr. Ong is remembered as Singapore's answer to Trini Lopez. Quite an accolade, huh? I'd be happy being remembered as Trenton's answer to Bruce Boxleitner, but I suppose Ronnie really knew how to live.

Ong is without doubt the star of the show in this track, but the supremely flanged guitar noises generated by axeman Horace Wee are truly a thing to behold and in my mind, earn "Buttons and Bows" true celebrity status in the All Time Fuzz Guitar Hall of Fame of My Mind That I Just Invented. The song generated considerable airplay on WFMU back when the station's copy of Steam Kodak arrived in the mail, as you can see here. (And as an added distraction/bonus, you can see all the other artists WFMU has played whose first names begin with the letter R by clicking here.)

Nice hair, too.

Life at the Magic Factory Part One: Lunchtime

My hope for this blog is that it will offer a behind the scenes look at the intricacies that help keep this little miracle called WFMU up and humming. For the benefit of listeners who live too far away to volunteer, who are too painfully shy to come to the Record Fair, or who are too fat to squeeze through our doorway anymore, I humbly offer the following look at the pasty innards of WFMU. Today's episode focuses on LUNCH.

Lunch is a family affair here at WFMU. Which is to say, all the members of the daytime office staff sit together at a big round table, eat their respective meals, and generally get into a heated discussion about something of peripheral importance, at best.

But I love lunchtime here because it's heavily steeped in tradition. And who doesn't love tradition? WEIRDOS, THAT'S WHO.

Who's responsible for this mess? The Cast of Characters:

Ken -- He's the Station Manager and he eats the exact same lunch every single day: Tacos. Legend tells of a time when Ken brought frozen lasagna for lunch, but that was before my arrival here at the Magic Factory. The story goes that not only did he eat the frozen lasagna, but that he made everyone else eat it too. I'm glad I missed out on this era of WFMU.

Megan -- She's the WFMU Swag Hag Listener Services Director, and has the most varied palate of any of us. She generally brings her lunch from home, as opposed to trying her luck with the local takeout joints, and I''ve seen her produce everything from sushi to beef burgundy from her tupperware containers.

Scott Williams -- The Volunteer Director. Scott is a pure and natural carnivore who wholly endorses the "If it was alive recently, I am going to eat it and you and your pantywaist friends aren't going to stop me" theory of culinary enthusiasm. He is also the first of WFMU's three coffee snobs.

Bill Zurat -- He is our computer whiz guy. He keeps the webstreams workin' and the archives chirpin'. Bill eats Alphabits Cereal for lunch every day, but prefers the 1's and 0's for obvious reasons.

Brian Turner -- He is the Music and Program Director (or the Camp Counselor to the Stars, as we sometimes refer to him.) Faced with tough professional challenges on a daily basis, Brian needs more raw nutrients than the rest of us combined. To wit, every day at 1 PM, Brian sits back in a reclining chair and opens his mouth in a heavenward direction. A plastic tube descends from the ceiling, goes into his mouth and pumps a grey vitamin paste directly into his stomach. Usually, a volunteer will stand over him with a copy of The Wire or Black to Comm held in front of his face. Brian slaps the table when he wants the page turned.

Liz -- WFMU's long-sought Assistant General Manager hasn't been around these parts long enough for me to have figured out her luncheon preferences. However, she took no time in revealing that she is also a major coffee snob. Her first official act in her new job was to get all of us hooked on some exotic blend of coffee that comes from the future. Or propels you there with great velocity, at any rate.

Me -- I am WFMU's Special Events Director and complete the trinity of WFMU's coffee snobs. I eat whatever the hell I feel like eating, but mainly keep an eye on the coffee pot to make sure the Enemies of Progress (Ken and Megan) don't try to sneak a cup from the pot before it's done brewing, thusly destroying the delicate integrity of the entire pot. The two of them try this on an almost daily basis and their tactics get lamer and lamer as time goes by. When they are caught, which is almost always, they are chased back upstairs and threatened with a large wooden spoon.

Lunch Conversation: Welcome to the low-class tea party:

We mostly stick to classic topics like the cinema, politics, who sucks the most at karaoke, popular literature, modern fashions, celebrity gossip, and the needless slaughter of the innocents. At times of special celebration, we actually talk about music.

Acid Reflux Party: Release the Hounds!
Devout listeners know that there are a lot of dogs here at WFMU. After the coffee is made and we are preparing to climb back up that great spiral staircase to the stars, Ken's dogs are given their daily workout. This requires each of us to surrender a portion of our own lunches to Nachum, who mixes the tacos and sushi and beef burgundy and Alphabits and vitamin paste into a big pot. Then he wads the mixture into balls, roughly the same size as the kind you'd play tennis with if you'd put down the 20-sided dice for a few minutes.

Nachum then takes the foodballs and squats on a brightly colored surfboard outside his office door at the end of the hallway. Ken restrains the dogs by their collars, Megan yells "PULL!", and Nachum fires a foodball at 90 MPH down the hallway towards the waiting pooches. The dogs are released, run towards the hurtling treat, up a ramp, into the air, past the painting of Osama bin Laden, and whichever one catches it is given a doggie treat and a pat on the head by the Cosmic Cowboy.

Then we go back to work.

Next time: "Gettin' Busy on Monty." Or: "Why are there so many used condoms in WFMU's parking lot"?

Punk Rock Songs about New Jersey

Punk Rock songs about New Jersey seem like a no-brainer, don't they? People yell a lot in Punk Rock. People yell a lot in New Jersey. Don't be too startled by this alarming similarity and don't get too hot and bothered, because I'm only going to treat you to my two favorite examples. NJOK by the band Detention, and the slightly more abrasive (and considerably less complimentary) Hoboken_Sucks by Äss (featuring WFMU's Brian Turner on guitar).

Detention is more famous for their oft-deified track "Dead Rock & Rollers" -- a song that I happen to know enjoys iTunes space on the personal computer of Irwin Chusid, which I recently stole from him. (The computer, not the song.) I understand that the band still plays live from time to time, and that the Shields brothers of said band own a gym somewhere in Jersey Centralia.

The legacy of Äss is somewhat more mystical. After channeling and re-interpreting only the best parts of Action Swingers -styled brutality, the members of Äss drifted to other projects, as varied as brickface and stucco installation to making pilgrimages to the Burning Man festival, where one member personally stuck his head into the Goat of Truth's papier mache ass and achieved enlightenment. Or something closely approximating it, if your standards are low.

I'm sure that somewhere right now, some ex-member of irrelevant, podunk Jersey hardcore band #227 is firing up their angry email finger in order to tell me what a gross misinterpretation I'm giving to their scene by not mentioning their band's song about the tough streets of Mahwah (image by Google Image Search), former Governor Tom Keane's weirdo accent, or the chemical fire that burned for years underneath the Pulaski Skyway (image by Burt Schlatter ). Well, things are tough all over. Like I said, I was only gonna mention my two favorites. Perhaps you can find validate your teens while perusing the formidable recollections of this man? 

In addition to Brian Turner, many other WFMU staffers have spent time behind the shrieking mic and raging guitar. Pseu Braun and Diane Kamikaze were both a part of the local miracle that was Children in Adult Jails , Chris T  wielded an axe of some ferocity in The Nihilistics, and Dan Mackta tore shit up in A Priori.

Now that I've outed everybody, I'm thinking I should probably get out of here before a horde of the above staffers start massing in the parking lot screaming for blood and vengeance.

Cilantro Rhapsodies

Here are a few links to songs from recent archives that deserve your attention:

From Ken's show:
Dynastie Crisis' "Faust 72"

From Charlie's show:
The Ex's "Huriyet"

From Scott's show:
The Animals' "Paint it Black"

From my show:
DJ/Rupture's "Little More Oil"

Now that you've got a soundtrack, let me express my extreme frustration with the lack of decent Mexican food in New York City. Am I the only one who has noticed this and is regularly bothered by it? It's not like I routinely crave it... I like to think of myself as a man with a varied palate who can appreciate a good tuna fois gras (pictured left) as much as a cilantro-laiden Mexican speciality.    I know, I know... the problem is that there's not as many Mexicans in New York as there are in cities like L.A. or San Francisco, but after 15 years on the prowl, I've come up with exactly ONE good local Mexican restaurant -- the lamely named Taco Grill ,  on 9th Avenue across the street from Bellevue Bar, which has been the scene of much off-mic FMU DJ debauchery in recent years. (I can't even begin to describe with words what I saw Scott Williams do there once, but I can do a good visual impression of it, so ask me to do it at the next Record Fair -- It involves a cigarette, a zipper, and a birthday hat.)

Anyway, Taco Grill has all the great features missing from the garden variety Tex-Mex chains that dot our shores here in NYC. Which is to say, they have a foosball table in the back, they serve Negra Modelo, and the menu offers burritos that are the size of a child's leg. Hang around long enough and one of the tough old-timers at the bar will challenge you and your dainty hipster pal to a game of foosball, and they won't necessarily be nice about it. But you'll have a great time and be back for more.

This concludes my test of dropping pictures into alternate sides of the blog template and embedding droplinks to RealAudio archives within text.