Apparently this stuff really drives the ladies wild:
Unique among all the essences ever devised by man or created by nature, STASH emanates from a plant long recognized for its aphrodisiac qualities. Its romantic bouquet imparts an aura of closeness only dreamed of between man and woman.
Make every moment count. Enjoy the mystery and enchantment captured in the romantic bouquet of STASH… the secret one. A great gift idea for him that will turn you both on!
As is (tragically) the case with the Velvet Underground, there is precious little sync-sound footage of Iggy Pop and the Stooges in their heyday, although there was a fair amount of silent Super-8 film that was shot. (A guy I know purchased an old film projector at a flea market that came with silent footage of Iggy onstage circa 1973, believe it or not. He later sold it to Vh1).
This incredible footage of the Stooges comes from the Cincinnati Summer Pop Festival of 1970 (AKA Midsummer Rock Festival). Appearing on a bill with Grand Funk Railroad, Alice Cooper, Mountain and Traffic, the group performs “T.V. Eye” and “1970” as Iggy leaps into the crowd—probably inventing crowd-surfing in the process—smearing peanut butter all over his chest. It’s one of the greatest rock and roll moments of all time and resulted in the iconic photograph above. Thank the gods that this footage exists, too.
Note the square announcer’s reaction: “That’s… peanut butter!” Years later Stiv Bators of the Dead Boys took credit for bringing the tub of peanut butter from his home in Dayton, OH and putting it into the Iggster’s hands.
Tokyo synth-pop band Polysics clearly take their cues from Devo, Sigue Sigue Sputnik, Shonen Knife and Yellow Magic Orchestra, but they do it so well, who can argue with such inspired thievery.
In the future there will be no love, sex will be provided by robots… and we’ll all be listening to eurodisco: “Automatic Lover” a worldwide hit for Dee D. Jackson in 1978. Apparently, the robot vocals are courtesy of another one hit wonder, Baltimora (“Tarzan Boy”).
Have a listen to “Moogy Woogy” by Serge Gainsbourg, from the soundtrack to Trop Jolies Pour Etre Honnetes (Too Pretty to be Honest) (great title, eh?), a 1972 French crime caper co-starring “Mrs. Gainsbourg” at the time, gorgeous Jane Birkin.
Jarbas Agnelli created this ultra-hip music video for the Brazilian pop band Pato Fu.
We scanned all the instruments and props on a big X-ray machine, and then modeled and rendered everything with CG. Since we couldn’t put the musicians in the machine (the career of the band would end abruptly), we filmed everyone on green screen, at the same time capturing their movements with a motion apture system. We then generated CG skeletons, and applied over the footage. Shot with Sony HDR-FX1 on Green Screen.
Jill Johnston, a longtime cultural critic for The Village Voice whose daring, experimental prose style mirrored the avant-garde art she covered and whose book “Lesbian Nation: The Feminist Solution”spearheaded the lesbian separatist movement of the early 1970s, died in Hartford on Saturday. She was 81 and lived in Sharon, Conn.” New York Times
I read Jill’s Village Voice column religiously in the 1970s. She was an outlaw and she captured my heart and mind. She once described her style of writing as “east west flower child beat hip psychedelic paradise now love peace do your own thing approach to the revolution.” Her book ‘Lesbian Nation’ (1973) had a huge influence on me and the way I approached the word, the world and women. Like Bukowski and Lester Bangs, Jill’s prose was energetic, alive and provocative. As a young man, reading her essays on the feminist movement, sexual politics and lesbianism wasn’t an act of penance for being male, they were exhilarating, a punk rock call to arms that transcended the subject of sexual identity and became a universal “fuck you” to stale attitudes and broken down systems of thought. Johnston was my hero. The dyke of my dreams.
This video clip is from D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus documentary Town Bloody Hall.
At a debate on feminism at Town Hall in Manhattan in 1971, with Germaine Greer, Diana Trilling and Jacqueline Ceballos of the National Organization for Women sharing the platform with Norman Mailer, the moderator, and with a good number of the New York intelligentsia in attendance, Jill Johnston caused one of the great scandals of the period. After reciting a feminist-lesbian poetic manifesto and announcing that “all women are lesbians except those that don’t know it yet,” Ms. Johnston was joined onstage by two women. The three, all friends, began kissing and hugging ardently, upright at first but soon rolling on the floor. Mailer, appalled, begged the women to stop. “Come on, Jill, be a lady,” he sputtered. The filmmakers Chris Hegedus and D. A. Pennebaker captured the event in the documentary “Town Bloody Hall,” released in 1979. Mary V. Dearborn, in her biography of Mailer, called the evening “surely one of the most singular intellectual events of the time, and a landmark in the emergence of feminism as a major force.”
Jill Johnston was a revolutionary with a take no prisoners approach and an enormous sense of humor. I will miss you, my sister.
