Nuclear Rays From My Halogen Haze

music, politics, art, Elvis apologism

my babies do good sculptures, yeah. February 8, 2013

Valentine’s Day is coming up, and love is all around us. Some of my friends, including a couple former lovers, have even gotten engaged in the last few weeks. Though I’ve been living happily for a couple years now as some kind of quasi-poly-loner-bachelor type, this season always makes me question what it is I’m looking for when it comes to romance. And I think I can boil it all down to a punk song I first heard when I was about 14 years old.

Of the hundreds of thousands of songs that have influenced what I like about music, probably more than half are about dating and relationships, anything from “Feel Like Makin’ Love” to “Be My Wife.” Many of those use “love” as a mere canvas, a quick subject matter to scream about or lay dance beats over or solo across; others of them, more direct, have spoken to me about love and lust with crystal clear realism, like Aphrodite whispering into my ear while rubbing my buttocks with a Mosrite fuzz pedal.

But those songs are about being in a dating situation, or falling out of one; few songs have inspired what qualities I look for in people I want to date. Especially in my youth, when I was on a limited budget and you couldn’t hear whole discographies for nothin’ on the internet, this song by the Rezillos was the tune that made me realize, hey, this is what I want, and I should go out and look for it, much like “He’s a Rebel” or “You’re So Square (Baby I Don’t Care)” might have spoken to some buckeyed youth in the golden age of teen pop:



I guess you could say this one really molded me, mwah ha hah!

Though the Rezillos were only about 15% – 22% female at any given time, and she didn’t sing lead on this one, this song is perhaps the most joyously egalitarian, matter-of-fact-ly feminist, and casually somewhat-sex-positive song about male-on-female attraction I think I’ve ever known. It’s all about getting turned on because your girlfriend makes art! She actually creates something meaningful out of her life instead of, I dunno, hanging out on the arm of a male artist, playing the groupie role that many female music fans probably felt was their only entry to rock in the pre-punk era. Okay, I know, it’s still a silly song about romance and lusting after a girl, but c’mon, it’s awesome, and so refreshing after thousands and thousands of songs about women that could be any woman, as if love’s context didn’t matter. This was the first song I may have ever heard, outside of maybe “Lovely Rita, Meter Maid” that celebrated a woman for her occupation!

God, you just have to love punk rock, warts and all. Note that the male character in the song is neither jealous nor tries to boast about his own similar creative endeavors–he’s very content to praise his gal’s talents for their own sake. Compared to more serious punk bands of their time, the Rezillos were considered high camp. But the teenaged me detected no irony in how the narrator places his baby’s sculpting skills far above her “pouting lips” or “curvy hips.”  He even brags to the world on how “she killa dilla,” goddam it! What does that even mean? He’s so egalitarian that by the end of the song, he can barely talk.

I discovered this tune on one of Rhino Records’ amazing, truly influential D.I.Y. compilations:  The Modern World – UK Punk II. Before this series came out, even just hearing pre-hardcore punk that wasn’t the Clash, Ramones, or Sex Pistols was exceedingly difficult in a burg like Tulsa, Oklahoma; I’d read about these bands for years in books at the library without knowing what they sounded like, and this was my first time to hear them all in one place. I vividly recall finding this tape for sale, used, in a counter display case at Mohawk Music–this was probably in 1993, just when my late-onset puberty was in full swing. I got pretty much the whole series and played them all the time, mostly on a Fisher-Price tape recorder that I kept in my Ram Charger, since it didn’t have a tape deck. Every band, every song in this series was mind-blowing. Though X-Ray Spex might have inspired my own self-direction more, and the Adverts’ “One Chord Wonders” inspired how I wanted to play music, “Good Sculptures” taught me real qualities to look for in someone else when trying to complement my life.

And it’s informed who I have dated ever since; my life is far richer because of it. Thank you, Rezillos, and Rhino Records, for helping make me this way. That’s not bragging, nor am I even saying I have overall good mate choice: I’ve dated people, short and long term, who weren’t right for me, who were too innocent for me, or too clever, who left their clothes all over the living room, who took lots of my money, who tried to hurt themselves, who saw the mean and stupid parts of me and just thought they’d be mean and stupid back rather than tell me (or leave). I’ve dated people who stayed with me for far too long because they had no idea how to quietly back away from my own rudeness and immaturity. And this is true: I’ve been socked in the head by nearly every girl I’ve seriously dated.

But hey, man, at least I got the art! I got inspiration, and I got to enjoy a birds-eye view of so many creative processes. I can think back with such joy, and completely undeserved pride, on the albums my lovers have recorded, or the books they wrote, stores they opened, photos they took, planet they saved, ribald performances they titillated with, audiences they made chuckle, essays they published, DJ nights they rocked, urban fruit trees they harvested, shows they organized, videos they edited, kink they celebrated, wigs they wore … even just karaoke songs they were bold enough to pull off! Even at my most miserable and least desirable in a dating capacity, I’ve kept my eyes focused on the creative ones. And it’s never let me down, at least not on the level of my… soul, for lack of a better word. And as for one night stands? Well, at least I think I’ve done pretty good about not fucking anyone who doesn’t have books.

So yes, yes, thank you Rezillos. And thank you, you talented ladies and gents from my past.  Ayy-ai-addy, addy-oh! If you ever wondered what I ever saw in you, it’s all because you does good sculptures. Yeah.

Keep doing ‘em.


-D. M. Collins

P.S. You know who else seems to have been inspired by this song? Opus from Bloom County!

 

A Rrose Is a Rrose – A Feather Boa of Words for the Drab Throat of L.A. June 20, 2012

Come on July 7 at 3 p.m. to the Hedgehog in Echo Park and see a full house of fierce literary talent! A Rrose Is a Rrose has everything, from poetry to confessional autobiography to music criticism to a marvelous idea for a new video game.

 

California wins lawsuit against Airborne December 16, 2008

Filed under: Art,Comics,LAist,Other Stuff,Politics,Soda Pop — orangehairboy @ 7:29 pm

My buddy Greg has been saying this for years–a medicine “created by a school teacher” is not something to brag about and is no substitution for drugs crafted through the rigorous application of the scientific method. 

And now Airborne just lost their case with the State of California, and is going to have to significantly change their marketing strategy as well as their formula.  That’s a good thing, since not only is it not good for colds, but they know damned well that it’s not, and in fact, its potent dose of vitamins endanger the health of women and children:

Even after studies, Airborne knew that major ingredients in their products–Vitamin C, Vitamin E, Selenium, and Zinc–did not prevent colds. They continued to market their product as a cold remedy, says the Attorney General’s office. Even worse, they say, is that Airborne’s dosage of Vitamin A is 5,000 international units and when taken as recommended, one would consume 15,000. That’s a “potential health risk to vulnerable populations including children and pregnant women.”

No word on how Lloyd Dangle, the artist behind those scary germs on the Airborne packaging, is taking this.  I wonder if all the knock-offs of Airborne he so humorously dug into a couple years back will be getting similar legal treatment.

 

Ted Kennedy at the DNC August 26, 2008

Filed under: Art,Celebrities,Politics,Television — orangehairboy @ 6:56 am

Man, I loved the speech.  And I loved Ken Burns’ tribute movie!  I was genuinely touched.  I’m so impressed that Kennedy, who’s been such a positive force for the advancement of liberal ideals (well, except for that one thing), was able to get out of his sick bed and come down for what may likely be his last public appearance ever. 

Goddam was that inspirational, not just for his message, but for his courage.  People like to use the word “courage” when people do anything in public, but risking your life when you have a malignant tumor is fucking courageous.

However, I do have to admit that seeing Kennedy in glasses made me think of primarily one thing: David Hockney.

There’s one big difference between Hockney and Kennedy, though–Kennedy is actually good at his job.

 

Yoko Ono’s Wish Tree thingie August 18, 2008

Filed under: Art,Celebrities,Los Angeles,Other Stuff,Performers,Politics,The Beatles — prodigalsonnybono @ 9:44 pm
(photo borrowed from Elise Thompson)

(photo borrowed from Elise Thompson)

I was eating lunch with coworkers at Il Fornaio in Pasadena, when I realized that Yoko Ono’s Wish Tree exhibit thingie was right there outside the windows in the Old Town courtyard in front of Gordon Biersch.

Apparently once all the wishes from this site and various sites around the world are collected, they’ll be put into a time capsule tube or something and put up in a Peace Tower for John Lennon in Iceland.  Sounds very cathartic and healing and positive.  But I wonder what happens if people write wishes that contradict each other.  Do they cancel each other out?  A vindictive side of myself nearly submitted wishes anathema to the whole thing, e.g. ”I wish for ETERNAL WAR!” or “Free Mark David Chapman!”  But I restrained myself from trying to jinx Ono’s freak flag Fluxus wishing well with a little negative testing.

 

Devo sues McDonald’s over “New Wave Nigel” July 1, 2008

Filed under: Art,Bands,Celebrities,Devo,Other Stuff,Personal Shit,Pitchfork Media,Politics — prodigalsonnybono @ 12:53 am

A month or so ago, my brother had a profound urge to send me a surprise gift package in the mail.  “Have you checked your mailbox?” he kept asking.  I finally got it and found out that he’d desperately wanted to send me this little guy.  See, I’m a huge Devo fan, and McDonald’s had just put out a Happy Meal toy (in conjunction with, eccch, American Idol) that wore the Devo hat, had a jumpsuit, and even wore Devo-esque New Wave sunglasses.  And when you move his little microphone arm, he kind of plays a Freedom of Choice type song for a few seconds. 

“Nifty!” I thought, but didn’t exactly put it on the record shelf next to my other Devo collectibles.  After all, it was a McDonald’s toy–and I don’t want my friends to think I support American Idol!  Instead, I left it at work on top of my cubicle wall for all my lame coworkers to see, because I don’t care what they think.

Well, now it appears that Devo gave no permission for McDonald’s to use their iconic hat (which Gerard Casale himself invented–and you have to admit it’s a snazzy and original design somewhere between a Mayan pyramid and the Guggenheim museum).  Though named “New Wave Nigel” (perhaps by a creative XTC fan in the toy design department?), the toy is clearly Devo through and through, not an homage but a deliberate knock-off, and an unlicensed one. 

In the days when I was sick, Pitchfork Media among others scooped me on this: Devo are gonna sue ol’ Ronald’s saggy pants right off him.  According to Gerard Casale (before his lawyer told him to shut up):

This New Wave Nigel doll that they’ve created is just a complete Devo rip-off and the red hat is exactly the red hat that I designed, and it’s copyrighted and trademarked. We’re in the midst of suing them.This New Wave Nigel doll that they’ve created is just a complete Devo rip-off and the red hat is exactly the red hat that I designed, and it’s copyrighted and trademarked.

They didn’t ask us anything. Plus, we don’t like McDonald’s, and we don’t like American Idol, so we’re doubly offended.

Kudos, Devo friends!  I love you and hate McDonald’s, so this is a win-win situation for me–and that’ll go double in a couple years, when I hawk this thing on eBay!

P.S. Photo stolen from a Flickr account owned by a guy named “©★®|★π♥ƒƒ“–thanks dude!

 

Wuthering Heights June 17, 2008

I went to the Summer Camp event this weekend and caught some great performances by Electrocute, the Lady Tigra, and We Are the World.  But perhaps the most sugary sweet treat to watch was Jer Ber Jones, the electroclash drag queen (no, not that one) who wears a Dee Snyder wig and tall tall heels.  He (she) performed in a headdress for the “Summer Camp” themed party, and sang a couple great ditties that probably would be terrible to listen to in the car or on my iPod, but were fucking amazing live.

One of the songs sounded kind of ethereal and bizarre, and it wasn’t until the chorus that I realized Jer Ber was covering Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights.”  To be honest, though I know the song from a mix tape that my friend from high school made me (before he realized he was gay, he spent quite a bit of time frittering his sexual frustrations away doing awesome stuff for his friends), the real reason I recognized ”Wuthering Heights” was from the lyrics I heard repeatedly in high school, from White Flag’s cover of the song on the Freedom of Choice CD that came out in ’92 with a bunch of current artists on it, covering eighties tunes. 

 Jer Ber did a bang up job, singing in his high-pitched angry whine, and saying “freaking” a lot, even working his suddenly broken heel into the lyrics of the song “Heathcliff, come get me, my freaking shoe is broken,” etc.

Here’s a video of Kate Bush performing her original version.  Note her weird, weird eyes, and that voice, and those strange dance moves.  She’s so comically compelling to look at, it’s actually quite psychedelic, which may be why Roger Waters and the Pink Floyd fellows gave her such a leg up when she started.  Wild stuff.

UPDATE: I did not attend the Little Radio Summer Camp event, but I probably shoulda coulda woulda done both.

 

manifestos.net June 14, 2008

Filed under: Art,Books,Futurism,Other Stuff,Personal Shit,Poetry,Politics,Punk — orangehairboy @ 12:43 am

My friend DJ Algonquin just clued me into this amazing site, wherein are listed hundreds of manifestos, many of them accessible via various links.  Of course, me, I’ve got a lot of art manifestos in book form at home, but not so many political or religious ones.  This site has everything, from Rayonism to Luigi Russolo to Valerie Solanas to Pat Buchanan’s Core Values manifesto.

There’s so much to delve into here, but today I’m having a lot of fun with Tristan Tzara’s how i became charming, likeable and delightful:

I sleep very late. I commit suicide at 65%. My life is very cheap, it’s only 30% of life for me. My life has 30% of life. It lacks arms, strings and a few buttons. 5% is devoted to a state of semi-lucid stupor accompanied by anaemic crackling. This 5% is called DADA. So life is cheap. Death is a bit more expensive. But life is charming and death is equally charming.  

 

Lucian Freud – “Benefits Supervisor Sleeping” May 14, 2008

Filed under: Art,Other Stuff,Personal Shit — orangehairboy @ 7:49 pm

Lucian Freud’s “Benefits Supervisor Sleeping” just became the most expensive painting ever purchased while its creator was still alive.

I vividly remember seeing an exhibit of Lucian Freud at the Chicago Art Institute when I was a teen–that’s the last time I’ve seen any of his works “in the flesh,” as it were, but I was dazzled by canvas after canvas during that fantastic show, which is why Freud has remained perhaps my favorite contemporary painter.  I remember that he insisted on displaying his paintings behind glass, which lent a flat sheen to them (similar to what the mastering process does for a recording) when otherwise they might have looked rough and scratchy.  Freud’s blotchy, pasty, unflattering works are never exactly pretty.  But they’re real, human, and moving.

Kate over at Shapely Prose sees this painting’s $33.6m price tag as sort of a triumph for positive depictions of fat people.  And in a way, she’s right: here’s an unapologetically large woman who is clearly wonderful to look at. 

I don’t know if I see this work of art in quite the same way though.  I definitely don’t think Freud is displaying this painting’s model, Sue Tilley, as a freak show.  But I don’t think any of Freud’s paintings are meant to celebrate the human form–or at least, they don’t glorify it.  Instead, I think they depict humanity in stark nakedness, devoid of any pretense of grandeur, because somewhere in that vulnerability is the ability to be loved.  And at the same time, the opposite is true, because the paintings also dehumanize, turning their subjects into landscape paintings, which is precisely the language Freud uses to talk about them (here he has described the “wonderful craters” of Tilley’s body, a bizarre objectivism if there ever was one). 

Freud squeezes so many different, sometimes conflicting meanings into his simple portraits that for me, he has revitalized the painting of nudes in the same way that Ligeti revitalized the piano etude.  I hope he has some more canvases left in him.

 

Marcel Duchamp and Theresa Stern May 5, 2008

Filed under: Art,Books,Celebrities,Futurism,Performers,Poetry,Punk — orangehairboy @ 5:27 pm

Okay, so we visited the Norton Simon today, and to be honest, the Duchamp exhibit was a bit small.  All the stuff was from the museum’s permanent collection, and though his twirling paintings-in-motion that had not been exhibited since 1963 were pretty incredible (perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle, actually), I think the leeches at the Tate Modern probably stole all the good Duchamp stuff for their Duchamp/Man Ray/Picabia exhibit going on in London right now.

However, the lecture we went to was illuminating, as it touched upon Duchamp’s personal life and his ability to predate many of the concepts of Futurism, Dadaism, and Surrealism without officially joining any of those movements (apparently he even told Tristan Tzara to “fuck off”).  In particular, I was intrigued by the female persona he had created in the twenties, Rrose Sélavy, whose name appeared along with his own on the program of his 1963 retrospective.

Adopting a feminine persona in such a stark, non-comedic way was hardly normal back in those days, and I love how Man Ray’s photograph here really glams it up and makes him look so womanly.  Like everything Duchamp did, it’s visionary and revolutionary.  It seems to hint at the gender-bending so common in art of the past few decades, it hints at the glam rock look adopted by Bolan and Bowie in the seventies, and it even hints at the “artist as art” phenomenon that Gilbert and George (and to a lesser extent, Warhol) have milked for decades.

And the fact that Duchamp wrote from the perspective of Sélavy and attributed sculptures to her reminds me quite a bit of one of my favorite seventies rock icons and his alter-ego:

Actually, to be fair, this is not one but two icons: Richard Hell and Tom Verlaine.  It’s a composite of their two faces, and taken before they formed the Neon Boys who became Television.

But it was Hell who wrote a book of poetry in the guise of their creation Theresa Stern.  From the point of view of this fictitious Jewish and Puerto Rican prostitute, Hell as Stern did interviews, wrote reviews and poetry, and served in a way as Hell’s own inspiration in times of strife when he needed to make decisions about his own life.  Until this exhibit, I assumed Hell stole the idea from the drag queens he was surrounded by in New York, but the adoption of a completely new female persona that exists outside of one’s self without merely completing or superceding it seems to be pure Duchamp.  Hell certainly was hip to Duchamp’s use of chance in creating art, and Rrose must have must have must have been his inspiration for Theresa.

 

 
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