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This flyer was created and distributed by Lesbians Against
Police Violence and The Stonewall Coalition in summer 1979 in the
aftermath of the White Night Riots; likely drawn by Emily Siegel
they say.
White Night, Big City, White Night
He held his arms out open wide
He had enemies on every side
A little man in a fit of rage
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Last year I did an interview with with KnowTheMusicBiz.com with
the unfortunate title of “What I know now I wish I knew when I was
getting started in the music business”. (Not my idea). I went back
and re-read it recently. Even though I say things I sometimes don’t
mean, I still stand by this. So I’m posting it here. Plus I
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Scott Compton and his Remedy cohorts feng shui’d (is that a
verb?) the space. Now it’s time to get serious. The plan is easy.
Consume super human quantities of snacks and perhaps write a song
or two. Also, note to self: buy a fire extinguisher.
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Van Christian (Naked Prey) reached out to me for some quotes for
his new record. I listened to it. And it moved me.
By the way, not that it totally matters, but Van’s record was
completely financed by running pot cross country for Mexican
National’s. Shortly after Van finished his opus he got busted and
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This appears in its original form on IFC.Com here:
http://www.ifc.com/blogs/indie-ear/2009/10/chuck-prophets-top-movies-of-a.php
I asked Chuck Prophet if he could list a few of his favorite
films for me while he’s finishing up a documentary about the ill
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(PICTURED: Left to right: David Hood, CP, Calvin Russell, Jim
Dickinson, Roger Hawkens)
Have faith in the process. Trust the producer. Listen to the
songs. Never, NEVER, stop rolling! Don’t answer the phone in the
studio, it could be the company telling you to stop! Don’t let
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http://twitpic.com/3ojg6 - In 1951, a doped to the gills
Burroughs recklessly shot and killed his wife here behind this
black door. 3:44 PM Apr 20th from TwitPic
Steve says I should make an Elmo, rather than Emo record—“it’s
just one extra letter and there’s a built-in audience”.2:17 PM Apr
19th from web
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Here’s a play-list of junk that’s been ticklin’ my monkey bone
of late.
—CP
The Dishwasher Ezra Furman
and the Harpoons
Cowboy Song Thin Lizzy
Dancing With Myself Generation X
Jumpin’ In The Night Flamin’ Groovies
Shake Some Action Flamin’ Groovies
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Last night after we closed the doors at the record store, three
men came to
the door. Two looked like rich gay guys dressed in dark
clothes and moussed
hair, but the third guy was dressed up like an Arab sheik,
covered from head
to toe. He had sunglasses on and he had a cotton veil pulled
across his
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Dublin: Whelan’s. 2nd to last stop…..
It’s a classic gig. The walls are covered in memory’s and
there’s an actual fire burning in the front room…. and all the
women love the poets, and the sound-man is a dead ringer for
Anthony Michael Hall, and it’s unseated. Tonight is a real stand up
crowd.
All together great.
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Wag the Dog Motherfuckers(!)
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I never thought I’d
get rich playing rock and roll. It was the adventure I was after.
If that’s what they were selling, I was buying.
A few things I learned while gigging in Belgrade, Serbia the
last couple days:
While the NATO forces were dropping bombs over Belgrade nine
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Milan was too short. Would have like to have found something
meaningful along the lines of a crisp white Dolce and Gabbana shirt
(I lost my one good white shirt somewhere back there), or a blood
orange cocktail before I had to split.
But it’s up and at ‘em. Got a train to catch.
Milan’s gig was cool. A chic crowd. The boys from the band who
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Tonight’s Milano. My last gig in Italy. Looking forward to
seeing Fabio and the gang.
My friend Andrea bought me some 60’s horn rimmed glasses in
Pescara. I look like an Italian film director.
Your feet get cold on tour. I’m wearing two pair of socks.
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I’m in Bilbao. Just woke up from a death nap. Not sure how many
of those overseas flights I’ve got left in me(!). But then again,
I’ve been saying that for years. Tried to nap on a bench
during a 6 hour layover in Frankfurt. The bitter cold blowing up my
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For the final night of our Spanish tour, Howe and the boys
invited me up for a sloppy but heartfelt version of Cash’s Ring of
Fire into Dylan’s Every Grain of Sand. And if I’m not mistaken
there was a slight return of Let It Be somewhere there in the
middle.
It was glorious.
Next stop Italy.