Another great upload over at Mite Mutant's YouTube site: it's a video of THE OXYMORONS playing "Unearthing Your Grave" at Canal Street Tavern. I'm not entirely sure of the year, but the song plus the length and color of my hair lead me to place this in 1992.
This one actually brought a tear to my eye. I've seen very little OXYMORONS video over the past fifteen years and almost none since Ben died -- strange to see him on stage again playing this song.
My only problem with this video is that the sound is very, very low, but Mite tells me he's working on fixing that and will upload more when he does so.
I don't know why I'm doing the hippie dance in this one. Pretty goofy.
take care
---Jones()
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Jealousy...
An anonymous reader submitted the following comment for approval on the previous post (the one about the audio files over at the WWSU Reunion Page):
First, I love that the commenter obviously knows where the CAPS LOCK key is but defies convention by refusing to capitalize either the first letter of the sentence or Kim Deal's name. Tre chic...
Second, I love that it's so apropos of nothing. I am stymied to find any connection between my being jealous of Kim Deal and the WWSU Reunion -- or, for that matter, anything else on this blog. I don't remember saying anything nasty about Kim Deal here. Now if the commenter had said "Bob Pollard," that I could see. I had one or two posts a couple of months ago in which I expressed my lack of interest in GUIDED BY VOICES. But this commenter chose Kim Deal for some reason. Gee, I wonder why? Hmmm... The comment just sort of bursts with unwarranted phlegm and accusation. It's like absurdist performance art. Kudos.
Third, I love that it states the blatantly obvious. Of course I'm jealous of Kim Deal! Who wouldn't be? -- at least on some level. She's made a lot of great music that's better than just about any music I've ever done. For the record, I'm also specifically jealous of GREEN DAY and SMASHING PUMPKINS. And generally, I'm jealous of anyone who ever eked out a better living making music than I did. To go further, I'm jealous of the people who get better scores on law school exams than I do. I'm jealous of people who make more money than I do. I'm jealous of people whose son or daughter isn't as obsessed with video games as mine is. I'm jealous of people whose blogs get more hits than mine. I'm jealous of people who have steady jobs with health insurance and retirement benefits. I'm jealous of people who can maintain stable interpersonal relationships over a life time. Shit, count up all the people I'm jealous of and Kim Deal is but one of millions -- and she's not even at the top of the list.
But I try to remember that the list of people I'm not jealous of is just as long. I'm certainly not jealous of people who refuse to even try to have interpersonal relationships out of fear of getting hurt or some misguided sense of self loathing masquerading as individuality. I'm not jealous of people who blame others for their inability to hold a steady job. I'm not jealous of even the most popular bloggers who spew stupid ideas. I'm not jealous of people who are constantly at war with their own children because their children didn't turn out to be little copies of themselves (I think of that line that Willie Loman's neighbor delivers in Death of a Salesman: "My salvation is that I never took any interest in anything."). I'm not jealous of people who blame the instructor (and everyone else) when they don't do as well on a law school exam as I do. I'm not jealous of people who waste their lives on alcohol and drugs and end up entering middle age with no human connections, no self worth to speak of, and no hope for the future because they've never been able to get their act together and probably never will.
I'm also not jealous of anyone who posts chickenshit comments anonymously on blogs. But I guess that's another thing you could say of anyone -- except, of course, anyone who posts a chickenshit comment anonymously on a blog.
But to bring this back to the subject of I Remember Dayton, I'll say yes, there are times when I wish I had done as well making music as Kim Deal has. But to go further, I suspect that there are times when Kim wishes she had done as well making music as, say, Bono or Alanis Morissette.
Thousands, if not millions, of people in shitty towns like Dayton all across this shitty country have music inside them struggling to get out. Of those, I bet 90% of them never write a song, or sing, or learn how to play an instrument. Of the ones that do, I bet 90% of them never put a band together. Of the ones that do, I bet 90% of them never make it out of the basement. Of the ones that make it out of the basement, I bet 90% of them never make it out of their home town. Of the ones that make it out of their home town, I bet 90% of them fold within five years. Of the ones that end up with a sustainable music career, 90% of them never make a living that is much more comfortable than the average public school teacher.
So I figure anyone who made it out of the basement and left enough trace behind to merit attention on a shitty blog did pretty well -- considering. At least, we could've done a lot worse. I think of that pivotal scene in Rocky where Mickey shows up in Rocky's apartment with clippings from Mickey's long past heyday as a fighter. As Rocky points out, at least Mick has the clippings, at least he had a prime. It's pathetic, but it's less pathetic than a lousy ground floor apartment with only two turtles for company and a job breaking peoples' thumbs because we hate ourselves for never taking our shot.
take care
---Jones()
you're just jealous that kim deal made it and you DIDN'T.There are several things I love about this comment.
First, I love that the commenter obviously knows where the CAPS LOCK key is but defies convention by refusing to capitalize either the first letter of the sentence or Kim Deal's name. Tre chic...
Second, I love that it's so apropos of nothing. I am stymied to find any connection between my being jealous of Kim Deal and the WWSU Reunion -- or, for that matter, anything else on this blog. I don't remember saying anything nasty about Kim Deal here. Now if the commenter had said "Bob Pollard," that I could see. I had one or two posts a couple of months ago in which I expressed my lack of interest in GUIDED BY VOICES. But this commenter chose Kim Deal for some reason. Gee, I wonder why? Hmmm... The comment just sort of bursts with unwarranted phlegm and accusation. It's like absurdist performance art. Kudos.
Third, I love that it states the blatantly obvious. Of course I'm jealous of Kim Deal! Who wouldn't be? -- at least on some level. She's made a lot of great music that's better than just about any music I've ever done. For the record, I'm also specifically jealous of GREEN DAY and SMASHING PUMPKINS. And generally, I'm jealous of anyone who ever eked out a better living making music than I did. To go further, I'm jealous of the people who get better scores on law school exams than I do. I'm jealous of people who make more money than I do. I'm jealous of people whose son or daughter isn't as obsessed with video games as mine is. I'm jealous of people whose blogs get more hits than mine. I'm jealous of people who have steady jobs with health insurance and retirement benefits. I'm jealous of people who can maintain stable interpersonal relationships over a life time. Shit, count up all the people I'm jealous of and Kim Deal is but one of millions -- and she's not even at the top of the list.
But I try to remember that the list of people I'm not jealous of is just as long. I'm certainly not jealous of people who refuse to even try to have interpersonal relationships out of fear of getting hurt or some misguided sense of self loathing masquerading as individuality. I'm not jealous of people who blame others for their inability to hold a steady job. I'm not jealous of even the most popular bloggers who spew stupid ideas. I'm not jealous of people who are constantly at war with their own children because their children didn't turn out to be little copies of themselves (I think of that line that Willie Loman's neighbor delivers in Death of a Salesman: "My salvation is that I never took any interest in anything."). I'm not jealous of people who blame the instructor (and everyone else) when they don't do as well on a law school exam as I do. I'm not jealous of people who waste their lives on alcohol and drugs and end up entering middle age with no human connections, no self worth to speak of, and no hope for the future because they've never been able to get their act together and probably never will.
I'm also not jealous of anyone who posts chickenshit comments anonymously on blogs. But I guess that's another thing you could say of anyone -- except, of course, anyone who posts a chickenshit comment anonymously on a blog.
But to bring this back to the subject of I Remember Dayton, I'll say yes, there are times when I wish I had done as well making music as Kim Deal has. But to go further, I suspect that there are times when Kim wishes she had done as well making music as, say, Bono or Alanis Morissette.
Thousands, if not millions, of people in shitty towns like Dayton all across this shitty country have music inside them struggling to get out. Of those, I bet 90% of them never write a song, or sing, or learn how to play an instrument. Of the ones that do, I bet 90% of them never put a band together. Of the ones that do, I bet 90% of them never make it out of the basement. Of the ones that make it out of the basement, I bet 90% of them never make it out of their home town. Of the ones that make it out of their home town, I bet 90% of them fold within five years. Of the ones that end up with a sustainable music career, 90% of them never make a living that is much more comfortable than the average public school teacher.
So I figure anyone who made it out of the basement and left enough trace behind to merit attention on a shitty blog did pretty well -- considering. At least, we could've done a lot worse. I think of that pivotal scene in Rocky where Mickey shows up in Rocky's apartment with clippings from Mickey's long past heyday as a fighter. As Rocky points out, at least Mick has the clippings, at least he had a prime. It's pathetic, but it's less pathetic than a lousy ground floor apartment with only two turtles for company and a job breaking peoples' thumbs because we hate ourselves for never taking our shot.
take care
---Jones()
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Off-Site: WWSU audio at reunion page
For the unaware, Wright State University's campus radio station is having a reunion that's generally for staff who worked there through the '80s and early '90s (although my impression is that pretty much anyone who has ever worked at the station is welcome). For some inexplicable reason, I still haven't registered for the reunion, but I will be there. And I've been keeping up with reunion planning events via the e-mail list and the WWSU '80s Reunion Page.
Although some would disagree, I think of the 1980s as sort of the silver age of indie rock. When rock and roll first came along and for the next decade or so after that, there was no need for the term "indie rock" because all rock was indie rock: that is, rock and roll music produced by small, independently owned record labels with limited resources -- because at that time, rock and roll was controversial and no executive with any business sense would touch a rock act. Of course, by the mid-'60s rock and roll had become big business, gigantic corporations had wised up, and record labels owned as sole proprietorships or close corporations were beginning to feel the squeeze. But even then you could find such labels competing with the big guys -- probably the most notorious example being CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL, who released on the independent label Fantasy Records throughout their career.
Through all of this, because the FCC carefully regulated the number of radio stations any single entity could own in a given market, even the smaller indie labels could still get their records on the charts by working hard to get them out to radio stations and cold calling the individual program directors. But a lot of that changed in the '80s when Ronald Reagan's FCC basically deregulated the commercial market (as the current FCC continues to do today). Suddenly, as more commercial stations in different regions came under centralized control, program directors became less and less likely to play anything but the playlist approved by some home office in Delaware.
In my view, it's here that college radio became an important outlet for indie rock. Don't get me wrong, good college stations have always been host to out-of-the-ordinary programming of all kinds, and a lot of that was music. But such music tended to be the kind of thing that wouldn't ordinarily appeal to a mass audience (like most of what BOMP! Records (god bless 'em) was putting out). I think it was in the '80s that a lot of music which was otherwise commercially viable suddenly found itself shut out of the commercial market simply because it was not on a major, corporate label.
This is what impressed me about what we used to call "Alternative" or "Modern" rock back then when I first started working at WWSU -- how radio friendly it otherwise was. Sure, artists like BONGWATER and HALF JAPANESE opened up new horizons for me about what music could sound like, but what amazed me most was how so many artists on college radio should have been climbing the top 40 charts.
I'm talking about acts like THE REPLACEMENTS, KILKENNY CATS, THE NUNS, THROWING MUSES, THE PIXIES, THE DIVINYLS, THE CURE, THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS, VOICE OF THE BEEHIVE, SOUNDGARDEN, and probably most glaringly CONCRETE BLONDE -- also, pretty much everything that was played at Alternative Tuesday. Although each of these artists had a sound that was a little outside the mainstream, none of it was anything the general public wouldn't have liked. Of course, a few of these artists would later chart on the Top 40, and one or two would have undeniable mass appeal later on in the '90s, but only after being relegated for years to the "Modern Rock" charts (or scoring chart toppers overseas while their albums languished in this 50-state cultural backwater). CONCRETE BLONDE, in fact, had been signed, ignored, and finally dropped by a major label several years before they had a string of Top 40 hits in the early '90s.
As I said, we called it "Alternative Rock" back then, but even when that term was taken seriously (i.e. before "Alternative Rock" became so mainstream that it was no longer an alternative to anything -- which is about when people started calling the music on college radio "indie rock"), it should've been replaced by something more descriptive: like "Human Rock" or "Real Person Rock" or something like that -- because the real difference between Alternative Rock artists and commercial radio artists was that the people making Alternative Rock were far more human and real to me than the people who made commercial rock.
First of all, people like Paul Westerberg, Bob Mould, Johnette Napolitano, and Kristin Hersh did not really look like rock stars. They were overweight or they were underweight or their faces weren't air brushed or their hair wasn't styled. Their wardrobes weren't selected by some art director in a New York design firm. Their videos (those that had them) weren't professionally produced, nor were most of their recordings. They played small venues where I didn't need binoculars to see them, and if I wanted to, I could meet most of them and have a conversation after the show (which I often did). They made music that was as good as or better than anything I could hear on commercial radio, but unlike bigger commercial artists, I felt like these guys were actually working for a living.
Anyway, that was the thing that really attracted me to Alternative Rock back then. I liked that most of it was fairly original but also had a good beat and melodies you could sing along to, and I liked that it seemed close somehow.
WWSU, like a thousand other college stations across this country, played this kind of music all the time, and in keeping with that indie aesthetic, the people who worked at WWSU produced all kinds of audio creations for the station: station IDs, comedy shows, news reports, unclassifiable oddities. In my previous post on WWSU, I mentioned "Das Boot," which Darryl Brandt and Matt DeWald produced in WWSU's secondary studio. I think I've also mentioned at some point that Matt lent me a reel-to-reel containing either the original or remixed versions of that recording. Unfortunately, I need a 1/4" reel-to-reel player to rip it, and I haven't located one yet.
But some kind soul at the WWSU Reunion page has gathered some other recordings produced at WWSU in the '80s and posted them on the WWSU Reunion Site. On the Audio Page, you'll find seven recordings to listen to. This is great stuff and a reminder of a time when all radio stations made their own spots rather than playing whatever Corporate sent them.
take care
---Jones()
Although some would disagree, I think of the 1980s as sort of the silver age of indie rock. When rock and roll first came along and for the next decade or so after that, there was no need for the term "indie rock" because all rock was indie rock: that is, rock and roll music produced by small, independently owned record labels with limited resources -- because at that time, rock and roll was controversial and no executive with any business sense would touch a rock act. Of course, by the mid-'60s rock and roll had become big business, gigantic corporations had wised up, and record labels owned as sole proprietorships or close corporations were beginning to feel the squeeze. But even then you could find such labels competing with the big guys -- probably the most notorious example being CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL, who released on the independent label Fantasy Records throughout their career.
Through all of this, because the FCC carefully regulated the number of radio stations any single entity could own in a given market, even the smaller indie labels could still get their records on the charts by working hard to get them out to radio stations and cold calling the individual program directors. But a lot of that changed in the '80s when Ronald Reagan's FCC basically deregulated the commercial market (as the current FCC continues to do today). Suddenly, as more commercial stations in different regions came under centralized control, program directors became less and less likely to play anything but the playlist approved by some home office in Delaware.
In my view, it's here that college radio became an important outlet for indie rock. Don't get me wrong, good college stations have always been host to out-of-the-ordinary programming of all kinds, and a lot of that was music. But such music tended to be the kind of thing that wouldn't ordinarily appeal to a mass audience (like most of what BOMP! Records (god bless 'em) was putting out). I think it was in the '80s that a lot of music which was otherwise commercially viable suddenly found itself shut out of the commercial market simply because it was not on a major, corporate label.
This is what impressed me about what we used to call "Alternative" or "Modern" rock back then when I first started working at WWSU -- how radio friendly it otherwise was. Sure, artists like BONGWATER and HALF JAPANESE opened up new horizons for me about what music could sound like, but what amazed me most was how so many artists on college radio should have been climbing the top 40 charts.
I'm talking about acts like THE REPLACEMENTS, KILKENNY CATS, THE NUNS, THROWING MUSES, THE PIXIES, THE DIVINYLS, THE CURE, THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS, VOICE OF THE BEEHIVE, SOUNDGARDEN, and probably most glaringly CONCRETE BLONDE -- also, pretty much everything that was played at Alternative Tuesday. Although each of these artists had a sound that was a little outside the mainstream, none of it was anything the general public wouldn't have liked. Of course, a few of these artists would later chart on the Top 40, and one or two would have undeniable mass appeal later on in the '90s, but only after being relegated for years to the "Modern Rock" charts (or scoring chart toppers overseas while their albums languished in this 50-state cultural backwater). CONCRETE BLONDE, in fact, had been signed, ignored, and finally dropped by a major label several years before they had a string of Top 40 hits in the early '90s.
As I said, we called it "Alternative Rock" back then, but even when that term was taken seriously (i.e. before "Alternative Rock" became so mainstream that it was no longer an alternative to anything -- which is about when people started calling the music on college radio "indie rock"), it should've been replaced by something more descriptive: like "Human Rock" or "Real Person Rock" or something like that -- because the real difference between Alternative Rock artists and commercial radio artists was that the people making Alternative Rock were far more human and real to me than the people who made commercial rock.
First of all, people like Paul Westerberg, Bob Mould, Johnette Napolitano, and Kristin Hersh did not really look like rock stars. They were overweight or they were underweight or their faces weren't air brushed or their hair wasn't styled. Their wardrobes weren't selected by some art director in a New York design firm. Their videos (those that had them) weren't professionally produced, nor were most of their recordings. They played small venues where I didn't need binoculars to see them, and if I wanted to, I could meet most of them and have a conversation after the show (which I often did). They made music that was as good as or better than anything I could hear on commercial radio, but unlike bigger commercial artists, I felt like these guys were actually working for a living.
Anyway, that was the thing that really attracted me to Alternative Rock back then. I liked that most of it was fairly original but also had a good beat and melodies you could sing along to, and I liked that it seemed close somehow.
WWSU, like a thousand other college stations across this country, played this kind of music all the time, and in keeping with that indie aesthetic, the people who worked at WWSU produced all kinds of audio creations for the station: station IDs, comedy shows, news reports, unclassifiable oddities. In my previous post on WWSU, I mentioned "Das Boot," which Darryl Brandt and Matt DeWald produced in WWSU's secondary studio. I think I've also mentioned at some point that Matt lent me a reel-to-reel containing either the original or remixed versions of that recording. Unfortunately, I need a 1/4" reel-to-reel player to rip it, and I haven't located one yet.
But some kind soul at the WWSU Reunion page has gathered some other recordings produced at WWSU in the '80s and posted them on the WWSU Reunion Site. On the Audio Page, you'll find seven recordings to listen to. This is great stuff and a reminder of a time when all radio stations made their own spots rather than playing whatever Corporate sent them.
take care
---Jones()
Monday, April 7, 2008
CORRECTION notice...
Back in February, Mite posted a video clip from the film The Antioch Adventure, Part 2, and I wrote some observations on it here. In that entry, I assumed that the blonde actress in the clip was Mia Zapata of THE GITS and so did several other viewers who wrote to Mite. However, he has since contacted the director of that film and determined that the girl in the video is NOT Mia. I have updated that entry accordingly, but I wanted to post something here to try to forestall repetition of bad information.
As I always tell my students, the internet's greatest strength is that it's a repository of information on all sorts of topics that are too obscure to merit attention in print, but without the rigorous fact checking process that professional publications go through, the information you find there isn't always reliable. I like to think this blog illustrates both points.
take care
---Jones()
As I always tell my students, the internet's greatest strength is that it's a repository of information on all sorts of topics that are too obscure to merit attention in print, but without the rigorous fact checking process that professional publications go through, the information you find there isn't always reliable. I like to think this blog illustrates both points.
take care
---Jones()
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Okay, this is fucked up!
I hate to push down my post on Musician's Co-Op so soon (and if you haven't read it yet, scroll down one entry, read it now, and come right back up here -- those are my orders!), but I got this group e-mail from Andy Valeri with two alarming bits of news in it: (1) Antioch College may be closing its doors and (2) public radio station WYSO, currently an NPR station owned by the college, may become (hold onto your fucking hat) a syndicated Christian radio station. No shit.
For those who don't know, Antioch College has sort of been Ohio's little piece of Berkeley since its founding in 1852. Even before the '60s, it was an oasis in the midwest for anarchists, communists, crackpots (god love 'em all), and generally dissident thinkers of all kinds. Its first president was legendary educational iconoclast Horace Mann. Its distinguished alumni include civil rights activist Coretta Scott King, actor Cliff "Uncle Ben" Robertson, Twilight Zone creator Rod Serling, American poet Mark Strand, and (more to our purposes) deceased indie rock icon Mia Zapata.
Even before WYSO became an NPR affiliate in the '80s, the station was blazing trails in radio culture, sporting all sorts of local color and "anything goes" blocked shows that approached the current "freeform" programming of New Jersey's legendary WFMU. Since the late '80s (and perhaps before) the station has been an outstanding supporter of Miami Valley music artists, as documented in numerous entries on this very blog and other places.
Now, apparently, the long and the short of it is that Antioch is out of money, and the current powers that be want to carve up the college's assets and sell them piecemeal. WYSO's license is one of the prize items in this auction.
Okay, I have to admit something at this point: Antioch College students have always rubbed me the wrong way. I've met very few that I could even tolerate on a personal level. I have found that many of the ones I've known, while strongly committed to some cause or some form of artistic expression or whatever, seem severely lacking in the ability to feel compassion for other humans on a personal level. Put more simply, I've just known too many who care more about being an individual than they do about the individuals surrounding them.
Of course, that's my beef, and I hope I haven't made myself persona non grata in Yellow Springs (where I lived for two years in the '90s and have considered returning to when I begin practicing). But I have to say it because I want you to know that I mean it when I write that the loss of Antioch College and WYSO is a loss to the Miami Valley and the world. Even though I have a personal distaste for many of the Antioch students I've known, the world needs them. The world needs the kind of person that Antioch College produces -- as much or more as it needs the kind of person that Harvard or Dartmouth or Smith produces.
For more information on Antioch's current dilemma, read this article from the Dayton Daily News that Andy sent me.
And here are some postings he sent me from people involved in the Keep WYSO Local effort:
Finally, here are links to the entries on this blog relating to Antioch College and WYSO:
---Jones()
For those who don't know, Antioch College has sort of been Ohio's little piece of Berkeley since its founding in 1852. Even before the '60s, it was an oasis in the midwest for anarchists, communists, crackpots (god love 'em all), and generally dissident thinkers of all kinds. Its first president was legendary educational iconoclast Horace Mann. Its distinguished alumni include civil rights activist Coretta Scott King, actor Cliff "Uncle Ben" Robertson, Twilight Zone creator Rod Serling, American poet Mark Strand, and (more to our purposes) deceased indie rock icon Mia Zapata.
Even before WYSO became an NPR affiliate in the '80s, the station was blazing trails in radio culture, sporting all sorts of local color and "anything goes" blocked shows that approached the current "freeform" programming of New Jersey's legendary WFMU. Since the late '80s (and perhaps before) the station has been an outstanding supporter of Miami Valley music artists, as documented in numerous entries on this very blog and other places.
Now, apparently, the long and the short of it is that Antioch is out of money, and the current powers that be want to carve up the college's assets and sell them piecemeal. WYSO's license is one of the prize items in this auction.
Okay, I have to admit something at this point: Antioch College students have always rubbed me the wrong way. I've met very few that I could even tolerate on a personal level. I have found that many of the ones I've known, while strongly committed to some cause or some form of artistic expression or whatever, seem severely lacking in the ability to feel compassion for other humans on a personal level. Put more simply, I've just known too many who care more about being an individual than they do about the individuals surrounding them.
Of course, that's my beef, and I hope I haven't made myself persona non grata in Yellow Springs (where I lived for two years in the '90s and have considered returning to when I begin practicing). But I have to say it because I want you to know that I mean it when I write that the loss of Antioch College and WYSO is a loss to the Miami Valley and the world. Even though I have a personal distaste for many of the Antioch students I've known, the world needs them. The world needs the kind of person that Antioch College produces -- as much or more as it needs the kind of person that Harvard or Dartmouth or Smith produces.
For more information on Antioch's current dilemma, read this article from the Dayton Daily News that Andy sent me.
And here are some postings he sent me from people involved in the Keep WYSO Local effort:
Recent articles in the Dayton Daily News raise a big red flag about WYSO. The University doesn't want to include it in the "sale " of the College. If the University keeps the station it seems unlikely, to me at least, that it is doing so because it wants to operate a community radio station. More likely it plans to sell the license to the highest bidder. I think we need to be raising the issue with friends in the College/Alumni community and encourage them to continue to push to have WYSO included in the sale of the college. The fate of the station is being decided now.
The most recent press release from the group (ACCC) that is trying to buy Antioch College from the University, reporting on the negotiations the ACCC, writes....
"In talks, the University's negotiating team spoke of its desire to "leverage the College's assets" and made clear that it did not want to share ownership of WYSO because it wants to explore the possibility of selling the public radio station."
---Ellis Jacobs
I am sounding the alarm loudly.
WATCH OUT, MIAMI VALLEY!!
Antioch University shows every sign of wanting the college to fail, whereupon it can maximize return on various Yellow Springs holdings: real estate, WSYO license.
Over the past 10 months, it has dragged its feet in negotiations with the college alumni in order to realize the objective of closing the college. And the village has had to witness all this as a hapless bystander. If the University prevails in closing the college, this town is headed for a very uncertain future. In addition to loosing income tax revenue for at least 3-4 years while the University "redesigns" its Antioch College campus, village government would do well to plan for a future that sees no re-opening of the college at all. After all, the plans that have been outlined by Chancellor Murdoch are sketchy and rely on significant participation by Antioch College Alums. She really does seem to think that the alums will have amnesia in a dozen or so months and this whole flap will have blown over. Well, the village should NOT hitch its future to THAT wagon. And as for WYSO, the public radio station that this town helped to build, well, don't be surprised if it is sold off to help finance a new Antioch/Seattle campus.
Last June, when people were expressing shock and dismay over the announced closure of Antioch College, Glenn Watts was overheard saying "when we are done, you won't recognize the College." One should take him at his word and meditate long and hard about how central the college has been (and even in its current diminished state continues to be) the defining ethos for this quirky little berg of ours.
HEAR IT HERE, if you haven't already: the hope for the continuation of Yellow Springs as we know it is with the college alumni and their plans to keep the college in operation. With their plan, not only will village tax revenues continue apace, but the college, infused with alumni energy and support for the first time in decades will lead a renaissance for this town and among other things provide a true foundation for the emerging YS Arts Center.
As for the University and its crowd of administrators, do not be surprised if various key players make "career moves" in the near future now that there is a big mess that they might have to help clean up.
EVERYONE, be very careful about what representatives of the University say; the promises they make, A lot of what they say may well prove itself to be just so much smoke. And if serious planning is based on any of what they say, it should be backed up by serious alternative contingencies. To plan any other way when dealing with this crowd would be foolhardy.
---Michael Jones
Finally, here are links to the entries on this blog relating to Antioch College and WYSO:
- REAL LULU, Underground Sessions (WYSO)
- REAL LULU photo & graphics set (WYSO)
- BIG BROWN HOUSE, Scrappy James cassette (Antioch College, Yellow Springs)
- BIG BROWN HOUSE in The Antioch Adventure, Part 2 movie clip (Antioch College)
- The Gits Movie, trailer (Antioch College)
---Jones()
Musician's Co-Op at Canal Street Tavern (now & then)
So last night I went down to show some support for the newly revived Musician's Co-Op at Canal Street Tavern (for the uninitiated, Musician's Co-Op is basically an open stage night where pretty much anyone who signs up can do an unpaid, half-hour set of whatever he or she wants to do). I had only planned to have a beer and stick around for one or two sets, but I ended up staying for pretty much the whole thing. In many ways, last night's Co-Op was a major flashback to the old days, and I think much of that had to do with the fact that Sharon Lane was hosting.
Except for the past year, Musician's Co-Op has been a steady institution at Canal Street Tavern since at least 1981. Mick Montgomery hosted it for the first ten years, but when I first started going in the late '80s, the host was Sharon Lane.
As you may know, Sharon has been a blues and jazz singer/piano player around these parts since the '70s. She's an incredible talent, and it was always worth hitting Musician's Co-Op on a Tuesday night just on the off chance that she would play a set -- maybe to fill in for someone who hadn't shown up or maybe just because she wanted to. Sharon is good enough and authentic enough to make you feel like you're in a sleazy Brooklyn jazz hole in the '50s or '60s -- almost as if you were "leaning on the john door in the 5 Spot/while she whispered a song along the keyboard/to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing" (to quote Frank O'Hara's famous poem on the death of Billie Holiday).
Don't get me wrong, I've never been a particular fan of jazz. You'll never see me slip a Miles Davis CD into the stereo at home or in the car. I don't own any. But when it's played live and played well, I can get into it. Strangely, jazz has that attraction for me in common with blazingly fast, aggressive hardcore punk. Played well by people who love it, either form of music can be amazing.
But at the time when I was regularly patronizing the Co-Op, it was worth going whether Sharon played or not, as long as she was hosting. In addition to being a great singer, Sharon is also a great personality, and so she could turn a simple collection of unpaid musicians of widely varying talent performing 30-minute sets in Stalinist order into something with the fluidity of the old Ed Sullivan show or a night at the Apollo. Because she knew most of the performers, she would give a little introduction for each one that almost always included a story. Or while the set was changing, she would tell a story about herself or rant about some situation in her own life. Okay, sometimes it was boring, but if it was, you could just go back to your drink and talk to your friends. And most of the time, it wasn't boring because in her time in Dayton, Sharon has gathered thousands of stories about interesting people and situations.
Last night was no exception. I hadn't seen Sharon host since she stopped doing Musician's Co-Op in the early '90s, but she picked up right where she left off. And I suppose it didn't hurt that she had good material to work with. Last night's performers included Kattie Dougherty (of REAL LULU), John Dubuc (formerly of THE OBVIOUS), and two or three others whose names I don't remember but who were obviously accomplished musicians who had been friends with Sharon for quite some time. About halfway through the night, Sharon also played a set, which she interrupted more than once to bemoan the recession of arts programs from the Dayton Public Schools (something which, I think, cost her a job last year) or talk about the history of Canal Street Tavern and the great men, women, boys, and girls who have performed on that stage. Classic.
Sharon's garulous method of hosting always struck me as a more transient version of the poetry of Frank O'Hara, who made his literary career writing free verse tales of people and places he was acquainted with in New York City. His poetry isn't always easy to understand because it depends on the reader being as intimately acquainted with O'Hara's friends (almost always referred to by first names only) and the bars, museums, apartments, and street corners that formed the back drop of his daily life (again, usually denoted with an offhand reference that might present a single image but lack any consideration for the fact that most of his readers had never even been to these places). O'Hara has been called the poet of New York City for that reason.
I'll say that Sharon has tapped into the same aesthetic for Dayton, but in a more transient way because she doesn't write anything down. Like good origami, her hosting is more craft than art, and it stands only briefly (at least compared to the ages spanning term of a painting or sculpture) before it is discarded and replaced with a new offering.
So if you want to experience it, you'd better get your ass down to a Co-Op when she's hosting, buy some drinks, and listen (Sharon is only one of three or four different hosts that the new Musician's Co-Op will have, but I spoke with one of the others last night, and from what I can tell, there are some good things in the works). Musician's Co-Op folded last year after an unbroken 26 year run because Mick just wasn't making enough money anymore to keep the place open on Tuesdays (ironically, Mick told me last night that when he opened, Musician's Co-Op was the biggest draw he had). It would be nice to see this new incarnation of the tradition succeed. I can't say I'll be down there every Tuesday, but I'll be making the effort to hit it more often. So should you.
take care
---Jones()
Except for the past year, Musician's Co-Op has been a steady institution at Canal Street Tavern since at least 1981. Mick Montgomery hosted it for the first ten years, but when I first started going in the late '80s, the host was Sharon Lane.
As you may know, Sharon has been a blues and jazz singer/piano player around these parts since the '70s. She's an incredible talent, and it was always worth hitting Musician's Co-Op on a Tuesday night just on the off chance that she would play a set -- maybe to fill in for someone who hadn't shown up or maybe just because she wanted to. Sharon is good enough and authentic enough to make you feel like you're in a sleazy Brooklyn jazz hole in the '50s or '60s -- almost as if you were "leaning on the john door in the 5 Spot/while she whispered a song along the keyboard/to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing" (to quote Frank O'Hara's famous poem on the death of Billie Holiday).
Don't get me wrong, I've never been a particular fan of jazz. You'll never see me slip a Miles Davis CD into the stereo at home or in the car. I don't own any. But when it's played live and played well, I can get into it. Strangely, jazz has that attraction for me in common with blazingly fast, aggressive hardcore punk. Played well by people who love it, either form of music can be amazing.
But at the time when I was regularly patronizing the Co-Op, it was worth going whether Sharon played or not, as long as she was hosting. In addition to being a great singer, Sharon is also a great personality, and so she could turn a simple collection of unpaid musicians of widely varying talent performing 30-minute sets in Stalinist order into something with the fluidity of the old Ed Sullivan show or a night at the Apollo. Because she knew most of the performers, she would give a little introduction for each one that almost always included a story. Or while the set was changing, she would tell a story about herself or rant about some situation in her own life. Okay, sometimes it was boring, but if it was, you could just go back to your drink and talk to your friends. And most of the time, it wasn't boring because in her time in Dayton, Sharon has gathered thousands of stories about interesting people and situations.
Last night was no exception. I hadn't seen Sharon host since she stopped doing Musician's Co-Op in the early '90s, but she picked up right where she left off. And I suppose it didn't hurt that she had good material to work with. Last night's performers included Kattie Dougherty (of REAL LULU), John Dubuc (formerly of THE OBVIOUS), and two or three others whose names I don't remember but who were obviously accomplished musicians who had been friends with Sharon for quite some time. About halfway through the night, Sharon also played a set, which she interrupted more than once to bemoan the recession of arts programs from the Dayton Public Schools (something which, I think, cost her a job last year) or talk about the history of Canal Street Tavern and the great men, women, boys, and girls who have performed on that stage. Classic.
Sharon's garulous method of hosting always struck me as a more transient version of the poetry of Frank O'Hara, who made his literary career writing free verse tales of people and places he was acquainted with in New York City. His poetry isn't always easy to understand because it depends on the reader being as intimately acquainted with O'Hara's friends (almost always referred to by first names only) and the bars, museums, apartments, and street corners that formed the back drop of his daily life (again, usually denoted with an offhand reference that might present a single image but lack any consideration for the fact that most of his readers had never even been to these places). O'Hara has been called the poet of New York City for that reason.
I'll say that Sharon has tapped into the same aesthetic for Dayton, but in a more transient way because she doesn't write anything down. Like good origami, her hosting is more craft than art, and it stands only briefly (at least compared to the ages spanning term of a painting or sculpture) before it is discarded and replaced with a new offering.
So if you want to experience it, you'd better get your ass down to a Co-Op when she's hosting, buy some drinks, and listen (Sharon is only one of three or four different hosts that the new Musician's Co-Op will have, but I spoke with one of the others last night, and from what I can tell, there are some good things in the works). Musician's Co-Op folded last year after an unbroken 26 year run because Mick just wasn't making enough money anymore to keep the place open on Tuesdays (ironically, Mick told me last night that when he opened, Musician's Co-Op was the biggest draw he had). It would be nice to see this new incarnation of the tradition succeed. I can't say I'll be down there every Tuesday, but I'll be making the effort to hit it more often. So should you.
take care
---Jones()
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
THE IGNITERS, "Glorious Timebomb" (video, 2001)
Here's a video Chris Wright sent me a couple of weeks ago. It's for THE IGNITERS tune "Glorious Timebomb." Like all the best videos you find on the internet, it is less than two minutes long (because no one can enjoy video sitting bolt upright in an office chair for longer than that), so you should watch it:
I know little of THE IGNITERS except that both Chris Wright and Jason Himes were involved in the band. I'm betting other people I know were involved too.
This video comes to you through the combined efforts of four people: Chris Wright (who sent it to me), Martin Gross (who is hosting it for download on his site), Mike Kilbourne (who uploaded it to his YouTube site), and me.
Download it! (15 MB) (link re-upped 2-1-2013)
For those new to this blog, I'll remind you that Mite is also hosting music videos from REAL LULU and MORELLA'S FOREST, as well as clips from The Antioch Adventure, Part 2 featuring THE GITS and BIG BROWN HOUSE, at his YouTube site. If you click on that link and scroll down, you'll also find clips from STEVEN GULLET, SNAKE OIL, and DAVID POE (formerly Dave Ponitz of GLEE & BEEK) in his video log and favorites section.
take care
---Jones()
I know little of THE IGNITERS except that both Chris Wright and Jason Himes were involved in the band. I'm betting other people I know were involved too.
This video comes to you through the combined efforts of four people: Chris Wright (who sent it to me), Martin Gross (who is hosting it for download on his site), Mike Kilbourne (who uploaded it to his YouTube site), and me.
Download it! (15 MB) (link re-upped 2-1-2013)
For those new to this blog, I'll remind you that Mite is also hosting music videos from REAL LULU and MORELLA'S FOREST, as well as clips from The Antioch Adventure, Part 2 featuring THE GITS and BIG BROWN HOUSE, at his YouTube site. If you click on that link and scroll down, you'll also find clips from STEVEN GULLET, SNAKE OIL, and DAVID POE (formerly Dave Ponitz of GLEE & BEEK) in his video log and favorites section.
take care
---Jones()
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