My buddy Davey sent me the above graphic. I can dig it. I used to start out on my escapades at around 11 pm... nowadays I can't motivate myself to do much of anything.
Except of course to gloat over the demise of the Boston Red Sox! Last nite was one of the most incredible juxtapositions of baseball craziness ever. Between the Sawx going down the crapper and the player with the worst batting average in baseball hitting a home run to keep his team alive with 2 outs and 2 strikes in the bottom of the ninth, it was truly an unforgettable evening! First time I ever rooted against my baseball team!!!! Nazz junior is a Red Sox fan (despite the beatings I have given him) and he stoically dealt with the carnage. If it was the Yankees, I woulda punched holes in my wall.
As I was wandering around lower Manhattan, trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, I walked past a demonstration (or protest or circle jerk or whattever ya wanna call it). There were several hundred people protesting... well, they were protesting EVERYTHING! You had dozens of signs, against everything from Jesus being on the Internet to the economy to the Government to the IMF, etc, etc, etc. The only thing everyone had in common was that they all were able to have the time to spend the day pissing into the wind.
As I walked by with my uniform (briefcase and suit), I thought about how it would be wonderful to have the hope and free time to protest against (insert your cause here). Unfortunately, my mortgage and increasing bills do not allow for the luxury of having the time to advocate (insert your cause here). I'm not proud of that, but I made my choices many years ago and that's my fate. I'm pretty sure most of the people protesting have a lot more financially than I do, and I know that to them, I must represent the opposition.
Conversely, as much as I advocate free speech and protest, I know that it was futile what they were all doing. Nothing is going to change, and even the cops looked bored. Obama was the great hope, and guess what, it hasn't worked out so well.
A block away, the construction site where they are building the replacements for the World Trade Center was humming, with tourists gaping at the pit and the glass and steel towers being erected. As I watched for awhile, I felt nothing but sadness and pessimism.Build em up, knock em down, it's just a cash exchange when you get down to it.
I sort of felt like the people in this video must have felt (it's security camera footage of inside the Washington Monument when the earthquake hit last month.
On my way back uptown, there was a bum (or- for the politically correct, a homeless person) smoking a cigarette on the subway platform. For a second, I glared at him- after all, in Bloomberg's NYC, smoking is verboten. Then I thought how this was probably the only peace he's got, smoking a butt and not being hassled. I was ashamed of myself for being a douchebag.
I have this very strange feeling that we are on the cusp of some very serious weirdness. The economy is totally tanking, Europe is about to declare continental bankruptcy and it's all up to Germany to bail us out.
Meanwhile here in the States, there are assorted lunatics running for the Repugnikkkan nomination for President. Watching their debates is like looking through a one way mirror into an insane asylum. And the current POTUS is begging his core voters for support.
And the market did a major dive last week, as demonstrators were beaten and tear-gassed. Granted, alot of em probably started shit with the cops, but still...
The stock market tends to go into major nose dives in October... 5 days and counting.
I was at a big time industry dinner awards event at a real fancy NYC venue last night. ... 350 of the big boys in my chosen vocation... real big boys...owners of billion dollar companies, execs , pillars of the industry. Fancy finger foods, open bar, expensive suits.
And me.
My suit costs less than most of these fuckers hankies.
En Why See Police commisioner Ray Kelly was the honoree. He spoke about being vigilant in the post 9/11 era. Whoever wrote his speech did a fine job. Then he left for a date with Obama...who's in town for the United Nations clusterfuck/circlejerk.
So in my old poor age I find myself at an event wearing a cheap black suit paying homage to the chief of nyc cops (and I want to state that he does a motherfucking great job- and has saved our sorry liberal asses many many times over the last ten years), making small talk with a bunch of wealthy upper class people that wouldn't be able to name a Black Flag tune if they had a gun pointed at them. Don't get me wrong...everyone was very nice and pleasent.
People usually are when they are looking down at you.
If someone woulda told me 20 years ago that I would be on the legal side of the law, making small talk at an event honoring "THE MAN", I woulda either hung myself or told the guy he was crazy. But there I was, holding a Ketel One in one hand and a plate of fancy finger food in the other.
At least the booze was free.
All reminding me of a day a few years back in which I was the honoree of an award. I had to give a speech, and I was really nervous. Mrs. Nomad advised me to eat a Xanax, which would calm me down. So of course I ate two of them. They kicked in about a half hour before my speech. I remember nothing of the events that transpired, with the exception of a bright red L.E.D. light that was blinking on the podium.
Old Nazz has got some book recommendations for you. Hey- reading is fun-da-mental! Or something.
Last One To Die - Michael Essington: Mike E. is an old time West Coast (L.A.) punk and has written his "memoirs". Equal parts observations on family, the scene and his history in the maelstrom of el lay Punk, Mike's writing is thoughtful and even poignant. You come out of reading this book with the desire to know the guy personally. If only the East Coast and Left Coast woulda merged... I coulda called him friend. And you should be checking out his stuff on STRANGE REACTION too! Great articles on Punk and great stories about his past. Support your peers, ya scurvy dogs!
Speed-Speed-Speedfreak - Mick Farren: Of course you know who Mick Farren is. The guy has written more cool stuff than just about anyone this side of Terry Southern. Speed-Speed-Speedfreak is billed as a "Fast History Of The Amphetamine"; and it ties in Hitler, the military, JFK and the Hells Angels in telling the sordid and not so sordid history of Mother's Little Helper. Some of it veers into conspiracy history (but that's not unusual for Farren), but it's a fast paced treatise on a drug that has greatly influenced both cultural and political history. As a bonus, the book is shaped like a capsule! Click here for Mick Farren's website.
Violence Girl - Alice Bag: In which Alice Bag, the former lead singer of seminal L.A. punk band The Bags dishes on her somewhat troubled upbringing and the early days of the Los Angeles punk scene. Alice interacted with virtually every member of the early scene (Darby Crash, Belinda Carlisle, etc) and her experiences make for a fun read. While this book touches on some sloppy behavior (ie drugs, booze, etc) it isn't really an expose of the West Coast scene.
I had the opportunity to spend the last few days in Reno Nevada for a business conference. For this Noo Yawk boy, the chance to breathe some clean air, win some money at the casino, dig some nature and drink my ass off was irresistible.
(I did not meet any of these guys)
Well, the air out there sucks, I lost every bet I made and I didn't have the chance do any communing with Mom Nature. At least I was able to drink.
I had to stop to change planes in Salt Lake City (home, of course, to the Utah Jazz- why didn't they change the name of the team when they moved to Utah?). I expected the airport to be crawling with Mormon's, wide-eyed and smiling. Yeah- I did experience that, but there were plenty of international travelers. I was able to imbibe at Dick Clark's American Bandstand restaurant. Dick wasn't there... but Wasatch Amber Ale was. Tasty stuff, and the by the time I was gonna hit my flight to Reno, I was ready to go look for the Book Of Mormon myself. Flying over the Rockies and the Great Salt lake was breathtaking, and seeing the Salt Flats from the aircraft was beautiful. There is a part of the Salt Lake that appears to be red from the sky... I figured it was mining waste run-off from a copper mine. Instead it was a result of bacteria in the water. Weird stuff.
The Great Salt Lake and the Salt Shore (that's not sand)
The view from 20,000 feet.
I lit out of the Reno airport, and the combination of being in thin air 6000 feet above sea level and fresh air coursing into my urban lungs almost put me on my ass. Somehow I survived, but I felt shortwinded the entire weekend. Additionally, as 95% of my time was spent indoors, the filtered air, heavily processed with cigareete smoke (everyone in the casino smokes and it permeates even the conference rooms) had me dizzy and coughing the whole weekend.
Part of the pool- Alot of kids- Who brings kids to a casino?
Gambling? Everywhere- at the airport there are slots, and the hotel we stayed at (The Peppermill is sorta 1/2 Caesers Palace and the other half looks like a gypsy wedding joint) is just ugly with 'em. And the people gambling? A real cross section of Americana- Bush country. Toothless, old Bush country to be exact.
I had real trouble with my room key- over the course of my first nite, the door kept refusing me entrance. I drunkenly huffed and puffed back to the front desk three different times (the hotel was huge and I was in the furhtest wing). Finally they changed my room- and upgraded me to a suite with a Jacuzzi- a sweet suite... And yes, I did use the Jacuzzi... but only after personally cleaning it to make sure that it was "love stain" fee from any other previous guests!
They gave me $10 free slot credit and I milked it over the weekend on 25 cent video poker- and grabbed every waitress possible for the gratis drinks (they'll keep bringing the booze if you keep at the machines or tables- so if you are smart about it, a pint of Guinness or Sierra Nevada ends up costing you only whatever you tip the waitresses). The casino's are built to keep you slightly off kilter and clueless of the time. There are no clocks or windows, the oxygen they pump in is to keep you awake, while the drinks are designed to keep you loose. The design of the place is all bells, whistles, lights and mirrors, to keep the excitement going.
A candid shot of a small part of the casino- if you take pix in a casino you could actually GET shot!
Over the weekend I was somewhat smart in my gambling, until I got stupid. I hit the craps table and the craps table hit me back. I was about even, and then dropped $40 on one bet- which was alot for me. The guy rolled a four and I bet against him rolling another one- so of course he rolled another four. Between that and a quick $20 dropped in BlackJack (the saving graces was the 3 Grey Gooses I was served), I had enuff of the gambling pretty quickly. Then I dropped $30 on some NFL picks ... they were parlays where you pick 4 games and win $130 for a $10 bet- I lost every game I picked!!!!!
So I decided to concentrate on business and drinking... because drinking is my business.
"Glow"
The coolest thing I did was attend the Great Reno Balloon Race and "glow" event. This was amazing. You get there at 4:30 am (I just kept drinking thru the nite because there was no way I was going to wake up - besides: how do you avoid hangovers? You stay drunk!) and there are thousands of people watching close to 80 hot air balloons. While it's still nite time, 6 balloons were deployed and the gases were fired up to make them glow. The sunrise coming over the mountains was spectacular. I had brought a bottle of Champagne (the good stuff- Andres) and popped it open to greet the dawning of a new day. Once it was light they raised all the balloons. You could walk right up to them. There was an enormous Darth Vader balloon that had trouble for awhile staying afloat- I guess the Dark Side doesn't play well with helium!
It is balloooooons!
This was the morning of September 11, and there were moments of silence for the murders of 10 years ago. One moment each for every tower attack, Pentagon attack, Shanksville PA plane downing and one each for the towers falling. Very emotional. As a NY'er, I represented with my Mets cap. The Governor of Nevada gave a speech, which was too long and was poorly read. He shoulda spoken "off the cuff".
Than the weirdest thing happened. There was a "missing man formation" flyover- that's when one plane veers off in another direction to represent those that were killed in combat. A minute later, a bunch of ducks flew over in the same formation and one veered off!!!!!
There was a "Pirate Club Crawl" in downtown Reno Saturday nite- lots of wasted teenagers and folks dressed up in Pirate garb. We grabbed some cloth hankies from a restaurant we dined at and pirated ourselves out.
I also met some very cool people. One of which was a guy working security. He was 20 years old, a former Army Ranger and he was all sorts of physically and mentally fucked up from 18 months over in Afghanistan. He got his discharge and Purple Heart from getting shot. What a cool guy, and at 20, he was already screwed. He walked really poorly, he was partially deaf due to concussion blasts and his memory was gone. And the fucking Government owed him $60,0000 on the GI bill and was not forking the money over.
So very sad.
And of course the other highlite was meeting this guy:
No, not Dean Martin... the amazing Jon from Poetry Is For Assholes. He drove 4 hours over mountains just to hang with lil old me for a spell. A way cool dude, impeccable music taste and an awesome blog- which you should be reading.
And it’s time for a record round up. All of the following are heartily recommended, and if you can’t trust your old pal Nazz, then all hope is lost!
The New Rochelles: “It’s New” - The second or third or fifteenth coming of the Ramones. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. 12 songs in 14 minutes. They cop every important aspect of Duh Brudders (same surnames, snappy toonage, whacked out song subjects) without the annoying stuff (oh wait a minute, there is no annoying stuff when it comes to The Ramones !!!!!). Fuckin’ A!
M.O.T.O:Pack Your Troubles In Dreams - Thanks to Brushback at “One Base On An Overthrow for reminding me how good this band is. 30 year vets of the lo-fi garage-punk scene. Funnier than a hemorrhage and the songs stick to you like ebola. Or something. Pick hits: “Satan Always Calls Collect”, “Radio Wall of Phlegm” and “Dance Dance Dance Dance To The Radio”.
The Okmoniks – Party Fever!!! – Cheesy keyboards, hot chick singing. Pure pop for now people. Kinda like the Mummies mate with The Muffs; but not really. Especially since there's only one girl in The Muffs, besides, how would that work... I mean with The Mummies wrappings and everything? Extra points because I think they named their band after the neighbors in ALF.
Flip City – Demo’s: Elvis Costello’s band when he was still Joey Goldstein (or whatever his real name is.) Sorta like Springsteen, if the boss had no delusions of grandeur and was born in the UK. Interesting to listen to as it has early versions of “Radio Radio” (“Radio Soul”) and “Living In Paradise”
No one is united
all things are untied
perhaps we're boiling over inside
they've been telling lieeees who's been telling lieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesss?
there are no angels there are devils in many waaaaaaaaaaays
take it like a maaaaaan
the world's a mess it's
in my kiss
you can't take it back
pull it out of the fire
pull it ouuuuut
in the bottom of the ninth
pull it ouuuuut in chords of red-disease
drag on
the system
drag on my head and body
there are some facts here
that
refuse to escape i could say it stronger but it's too much trouble
i was
wondering down at the briiiiickkkks hectic, isn't it?
down we go craaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddle
(cue Billy Zoom!)
No one is united
all things are untied
perhaps we're boiling over inside
they've been telling lieeeees
who's been telling lieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeseeeeesssssss? there are no angels
there are devils in many waaaaaaaaays take it like a man
the world's a mess it's
in my kiiiissssssssssss
and
all the world's a mess it's in my kiss
go to hell, see if you like it
then come home with me
tomorrow night may be too late
both moons are
full
dirty night dying like a lovely wife
goodbye my darling how high
the moon well i wish i was
(I've been playing alot of X on my bass guitar lately).
Shwag: The t-shirt in the picture with the lyrics can be found at X's on-line store: (click here)
ps- This song is much better without the Ray Manzarek wankery on keyboard coda
I will not be in New York for the 10 year "tribute" next weekend. It's actually already started, as the local media is tired of reporting about the hurricane damage and the economy crisis is oh so boring and played out. I've seen "America's Mayor" (ie Giuliani) already weighing in. I guess no one remembers that at the time of the attack, the fascist motherfucker only had 2 months left in his largely failed administration... and if it wasn't for the attacks, he's be remembered as a tremendous asshole, and not some sort of (cough, hack, puke) "leader".
And Bush? And his recollections of shitting the bed that day? No thanks.
Prepare to be inundated with analysis of our "lost innocence" and how it was the day everything "changed". Being a New Yorker, I know all too well about the atrocities perpetuated by those monstrous murdering bastards with box-cutters and the damage they caused. And I am sure that you do too.
I really don't need 24/7 media coverage exploiting it and I am sure the rest of you don't either.
Having a couple of pints with my pal Veronica Moser the other day and the following came up:
Upon listening to the bar playing the Lou Reed album Transformer, I commented with regard to what a truly pussy, weak-ass non rock album it is. Although it was heavily influenced by David Bowie, Reed should not have been pandering to the Brechtian school of non- r n r (what was the harbinger of his Berlin period). I also commented that I would prefer they had put on Metal Machine Music- which at least was obnoxiously punk. Mr. Moser commented that I hate art and that it was all about The Ramones as far as I was concerned.
Well... d-uh!
As we were in this downtown en whycee tavern, we started chatting with a gal who with-in 15 minutes name dropped that she personally knew every bo-ho/hipster influence of the last 40 years (the most reverent Saints Thompson, Ginsberg, Ramone, et al; along with such lesser lights as Patti Smith). Which was all well and good, until she related a story of attending a performance of David Byrne. She apparently had to leave the show early, and the next time she ran into Mr. Talking Head, he asked why she bailed.
I suggested that if it was me, I would have politely explained to Mr. Byrne that it was my belief that he had done everything in his power to kill rock n roll with his assorted forays into what I would consider unlistenable crap (everything past Fear Of Music)and that if I hadn't left I would have been compelled to decapitate him.
This did not go over so well.
I've been listening to John Cale as of late. His Sabotage/Live lp (recorded at CBGB's in 1979) proved that the elder race of man could still rip the shit out of the music. And more than 20 years later, he was still shredding with the Circus Live collection.
Yeah, I know- he's "artsy". And into classical music. And the avant garde.
Fuck it.
All files posted on this site are for educational, testing and entertainment purposes only.If you like what you hear, please buy recordings, t-shirts, dvds and other merch from these bands. This is a non profit site and is here to give some publicity to deserving bands and artists. If you’re in a band whose music is found on this site and you want songs removed, please let me know. Songs and other media will be up for only a short time. After that, just like our hopes and dreams, they're gone.
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