Invented in 1936 by Isabella Gilbert of Rochester, N. Y., the Dimple Machine consisted of a “face-fitting spring carrying two tiny knobs which press into the cheeks.” I wonder if it actually worked? I tend to doubt it…
Isabella’s “cheeky” dimple giver is much tamer than what the woman below did: She injected a $10 bottle of personal lubricant into her face to achieve natural beauty.
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Teach Your Children,” released 41 years ago, was one of those tunes that seemed hopelessly corny when I first heard it, preachy in the worst hippie fashion.
As an 18-year-old flower child, CSN&Y’s Deja Vu was supposed to resonate with me—it did for most of my generation ( the album’s tracks wafted from open windows throughout Berkeley). But I was a flower child about to go to seed and their musical macramé left rope burns on what was left of my hippie dippy sensibility. I understand deja vu as a kind of compression of space and time, but when things move swiftly, stopping in your tracks to observe frozen, insistent memories is the very antithesis of what made the youth movement so vital—we were moving forward not looking back and certainly not letting deja vu trip us up. Had we been here before? No. It just feels familiar because it feels so fucking right.
CSN&Y seemed like a bunch of rich hipsters whose biggest concerns revolved around whether to cut their hair and self-doubt about their parenting skills. My hair was still long, would remain so, and all I cared about was screwing the chicks hanging out in Ho Chi Min Park.
Looking back, I figure CSN&Y, along with the wave of Topanga Canyon and Malibu longhair country-rock bands that followed in their wake, factored into why I was driven in the direction of Iggy And The Stooges and the MC5. For me, CSN&Y marked the point when the Sixties became too hopelessly self-referential, choking on its own patchouli scented vomit.
But fuck the past, right now this song and these guys seem very real and soulful to me thanks to this video. David Crosby and Graham Nash are looking forward and deja vu is now the middle space between what was and what is going to be.
Brothers, I salute you.
Still waiting for the “Street Fighting Men” and Mr. “Born To Run” to make the scene. Where’s the rock and roll 1% when we need ‘em?
The fact that you can’t have electronic pubic public address systems in Zuccotti Park results in an amplification system that is flesh, bone, blood and communal.
How young and beautiful, Marc Bolan looks in this TV interview from 1970. Filmed during the writing of songs for the first album as the abbreviated T.Rex - after 4 as Tyrannosaurus Rex - Marc can be seen working on “Children of Rarn” and “Suneye”, as he discusses the process of writing. Like many artists (David Lynch comes to mind), Bolan claimed he just pulled the songs out, as if they were already there, fully formed. He also said he was used by “melody” as if it were a being. O, to be touched by the Muse.
Uh oh! As if this picture ain’t worth a thousand words, the video below is pretty revealing of a certain mindset, uh, brewing, I guess you’d say, in the feeble little minds of the Tea party faithful.
Since Occupy Wall Street started, as far as I’m concerned, it’s like everything is getting kicked up a notch… Dig the comedic horn o’ plenty that was last night’s GOP debate, the Cain train-wreck and Michele Bachmann getting “mic-checked” in South Carolina today. This shit is the fuckin’ best!
Nat Roe of WFMU has uploaded 10 seconds of every hit song from the ‘70s on SoundCloud. Holy cow, Nat! That’s a lot of hard work and serious dedication. He says he’s going to tackle the ‘80s in the next few weeks. I can’t wait for that one!
Go to WFMU to hear every hit from the 50s and 60s.
The Dove (De Düva) is an Academy Award-nominated short parody of Ingmar Bergman’s films, made in 1968. They used to show this a lot in the early days of HBO. The short lampoons elements of Bergman’s Wild Strawberries, The Seventh Seal, The Silence and Smiles of a Summer Night.
Professor Viktor Sundqvist (co-director George Coe) is being chauffeured to a lecture at a university, when a dove shits on the car’s windshield. He decides to make a visit to his childhood home ala Wild Strawberries .
In a flashback, Viktor and his sister challenge Death (screenwriter Sid Davis) to a game of badminton in exchange for Death sparing her life. A dove shits on Death and he loses the game.
The ridiculous fake Swedish is a mix of English, Yiddish and adding “ska” to certain words, as in “It will take a momentska” or “sooner or lateska.”
The Dove (De Düva) is notable for being the first appearance of the great comedienne Madeline Kahn.