When Lou Reed and Sterling Morrison left The Velvet Underground in 1971, the resulting band (still called The Velvet Underground, for some reason) was ignored at best, and condemned at worst. Their album Squeeze, was primarily written by Doug Yule, who has himself described it as an “embarrassment.” Critics and fans perceived it as a pale sham seeking to capitalize off the work of previous members, and without Lou Reed, it’s really hard to argue that point. To this day Squeeze has never been released in America on CD.

The worst part of Squeeze though, is not just that it’s a pretty mediocre album, but the fact that its embarrassing legacy absolutely buried an awesome artist. Willie “Loco” Alexander, brought in to replace Sterling Morrison, has made music consistently since leaving the ersatz VU, and has produced some absolutely fantastic stuff. (And rock ‘n’ roll nerds rejoice, Youtube makes a lot of it easy to get ahold of.)

His work with the Boom Boom Band is fun, nasty, proto-punk with a glam skeez, but he also got fairly experimental. His 1980s New Wave gem “Gin,” layers thunder and and simple synthy riffs over a New Wave ballad. It’s baffling that we’ve never heard it in the prom scene of an 80s movie.

Alexander has always had an underground following among Boston punks and in France, but it’s an injustice that his name in rock history is only significantly associated with one toss-away album that only esoteric rock ‘n’ roll aficionados would care about. A prolific and diverse artist, and one too interesting to fall through the cracks, Willie “Loco” Alexander should be known as much more than a guy who once rode The Velvet Underground’s coattails.

Below, Willie “Loco” Alexander and the Boom Boom Band, “Mass Ave.”:
 

 
“Gin”:

 
I loved the first two Radiohead albums, Pablo Honey and The Bends. After that, I pretty much lost interest in the group’s recorded output. And lord knows I’ve tried to get into it. Their shows at Tramps (1995) and Hammerstein Ballroom (1997) were among the best live concerts I’ve seen. Two albums, two concerts, not bad.

This is a remarkable set from 1993 performed at Chicago’s Metro. Good quality video and audio. There’s a post-concert interview with Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood.

00:00 You
03:42 Prove Yourself
06:21 The Bends
10:23 Vegetable
13:29 Creep
17:36 Ripcord
20:53 Faithless the Wonder Boy
24:24 How Do You?
26:56 Stop Whispering
32:05 Inside My Head
35:35 Anyone Can Play Guitar
39:26 Pop Is Dead

Watch at 720p.
 

 
I had so much fun reading the comments posted over the past few days in response to my piece on Billy Squier’s unbelievably bad video for “Rock Me Tonite” that I couldn’t resist sharing another video. This one I’ve actually posted on DM before. It features blue-eyed soulsters Hall and Oates singing “She’s Gone” while in what appears to be a shared drug-like stupor. Pre-dating MTV by almost a decade, this “promotional video” for the album Abandoned Luncheonette was made in 1973 and not released until years later. It’s a real jaw-dropper.

The clothes, the glazed expressions, the parade of women passing in the foreground, the red-sequined devil costume, the guitar solo with flippers…it’s all so ridiculously strange that it had to be a parody, right? A punk-style “fuck you” to the music industry?

When I originally shared this vid on DM a couple years ago, I didn’t know its history. As it turns out, the video was an elaborate joke with very little sub-text. A “fuck you” of sorts. In a 2009 interview with John Oates, the truth came out:

Well, I’ll give you a little background about what happened with that “She’s Gone” thing. First of all, it was 1973. There was no MTV, there was no outlet for anything like this. You know, it might be one of the first music videos ever made. I really couldn’t say, honestly, but it definitely would be a contender. What happened was, we were asked to lip sync “She’s Gone” for a teenage TV dance show broadcast out of Atlantic City, New Jersey. And we really didn’t want to do that; we didn’t want to pretend to sing the song. It was supposed to be shot in a television studio in Philadelphia. So we thought, with the mindset that we were in at the time – and I won’t say more on that, either -

We showed up at the television studio with a chair from our living room. The woman who’s walking through the picture – that’s Sarah…
Oh, wow.

And the devil who comes through was our road manager at the time. And we brought Monopoly money, and those weird instruments, and they thought we were nuts. They really thought that. My sister directed that video.

They thought we were completely insane. They actually didn’t air it; they wouldn’t air it. But we had it this whole time, and eventually I leaked it out to the internet, ’cause I just thought the world should see it.

Sounds kinda hip. You buying it?
 

 
Patti Smith’s pussy has been rioting for 4 decades now and this clip from 1978 is a reminder of just much of a rock warrior she was and has always been.

This all-too-brief clip is from a 1978 PBS television fundraiser, The Night Of The Empty Chairs, organized by Leonard Bernstein in support of Amnesty International and in protest of political oppression across the globe.

Patti began her performance by reading a poetic declaration from Czech band Plastic People Of The Universe, who had for many years experienced unrelenting oppression in their homeland.

In the sixties there was a piece called HUNDRED PER CENT that the Plastic People of the Universe writ.  After a decade of harassment, censorship, mace, lice - they were arrested in the Spring of 1977.  All their work - the technology of their work - everything built on blood and sweat, was confiscated, which brought another blow in the face, which mouths the tongue of love. Rock ‘n’ roll: the universal language of freedom.

In the harsh light of recent events involving Pussy Riot, these words have never seemed more timely or more true.

A HUNDRED PER CENT - REVISITED

They’re afraid of the old for their memory. 
They’re afraid of the young for their ideas - ideals.
They’re afraid of funerals - of flowers - of workers -
of churches - of party members - of good times.
They’re afraid of art - they’re afraid of art.
They’re afraid of language - communication.
They’re afraid of theater.
They’re afraid of film - of Pasolini - of God/dard.
of painters - of musicians - of stones and sculptors.

They’re afraid.
They’re afraid of radio stations.
They’re afraid of technology, free float form of
information. Paris Match - Telex - Guttenburg - Xerox
- IBM - wave lengths.
They’re afraid of telephones.
They’re afraid.
They’re afraid to let the people in. 
They’re afraid to let the people out.
They’re afraid of the left.
They’re afraid of the right.
They’re afraid of the sudden departure of Soviet
troops - of change in Moscow - of facing the strange -
of spies - of counterspies.
They’re afraid.
They’re afraid of their own police.
They’re afraid of guitar players.
They’re afraid of athletes - of Olympics - of the
Olympic spirit - of saints - of the innocence of
children. 
They’re afraid. 
They’re afraid of political prisoners. 
They’re afraid of prisoners families - of conscience -
of science.
They’re afraid of the future.
They’re afraid of tomorrow’s morning.
They’re afraid of tomorrow’s evening.
They’re afraid of tomorrow.
They’re afraid of the future.
They’re afraid of stratocasters - of telecasters.
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll.
What does he mean, even rock bands?  Even rock bands?
Rock bands more than anybody else suffer from
political repression. 
They’re afraid.
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll - of telecasters - of
stratocasters - of old age - in the streets - behind
the locked doors.
They’re afraid of what they’ve written - of what
they’ve said - of fire - of water - of wind - of slow
- of snow - of love - excretion.
They’re afraid of noise - of peace - of silence - of
grief - of joy - of language - of laughter - of
pornography - of honest and upright - they’re uptight.

They’re afraid of lone and learn and learned people.
They’re afraid of human rights and Karl Marx and raw
power.
They’re afraid of socialism. 
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll.
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll.
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll.
They’re afraid of rock ‘n’ roll.

AND WHY THE HELL ARE WE AFRAID OF THEM?

Patti Smith Group guitarist Ivan Kral, who is Czech, provides some vocal back-up.
 

Is this MF Doom?
 
MF Doom is one of the most respected rappers and producers in hip-hop. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for “his” live “appearances.” I say “his” because quite often MF Doom, aka Daniel Dumile, doesn’t even appear at his own shows.

As has been reported a number of times over the last few years, Doom has a history of sending imposters to perform at his live events, all hidden behind his trademark metal mask. After various reports of this happening in the past, including this from The Kaos Effect, the latest non-sighting of MF Doom comes from Livin’ Proof in London. A statement on the collective’s Facebook wall reads:

To everyone who came down to our Livin’ DOOM event on Saturday and are questioning whether that was the real DOOM - we are in the same position as you. We had a legitimate contracted gig from his official booking agent and were in contact throughout the booking process with his US management, and label. We were even talking and working with the promoters of DOOM’s forthcoming London live shows in October and November.

As far as we were concerned, the real DOOM was going to appear… we received news from DOOM’s management on the morning of the gig that DOOM wanted more money or he would not show up. This show was done and intended as a very special and intimate show which was not about making money but putting on an incredible party in a very small capacity venue. As we wanted the show to go ahead and was left to ransom to this extortionate request, we agreed this even though this was a breach of our agreed contract. In hindsight, we should have cancelled the show then and there…

At 9.30pm after we had open the doors, we were told by management that he would appear but would not DJ and was just going to sign autographs. We said this was unacceptable as we had agreed and paid for a DJ set… 10 minutes later we received a call saying that he would DJ… Or that’s what we were led to believe.

As many of the people in the venue noticed, there is a very strong possibility the person that was finally sent down was not DOOM himself.

Doing this show has taught us a lot about how some artists operate and how they feel they can treat others and, most importantly, their fans. As fans of DOOM ourselves, this has left a very sour taste in our mouth.

Anyone who has been to Livin’ Proof parties always know that we do our utmost to provide the best quality show and we are so sorry for anyone who came down and were disappointed by the DJ set from the artist supposedly meant to be DOOM.

We will do our utmost to make this up to anyone who purchased a ticket for this event. We paid the fee upfront to Daniel Dumile’s bank account and have the receipts to prove this. We will be seeking legal advice and are doing our best to get his show fee refunded from DOOM and his management and will then take suitable steps after this action.

All the best,

Livin’ Proof Crew.

There is some doubt in the thread that accompanies the statement as to whether the person in the picture above is MF Doom or not. Anybody reading this have any ideas?

Some people are now suggesting fans boycott MF Doom shows, and even stop buying his records. There’s also a lot of talk about this all being part of MF Doom’s notorious “super-villainry.” Bullshit. Super-laziness and disrespect for fans is what this is.

MF Doom needs to take a leaf out of GG Allin’s book, who was a REAL super-villain. Sure, you may have got pissed on or kicked in the face at an Allin show, but at least you could be guaranteed the guy defecating on your head was THE REAL GG Allin.

In 1964, future Crass drummer Penny Rimbaud, then known by his given name of Jeremy Rattner, appeared on the Ready Steady Go! music program to receive an award from Beatle John Lennon. He’d won a contest for producing artwork inspired by “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”

The prizes were copies of the LPs Mingus by Charlie Mingus and Dmitri Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto. This anecdote appears in Rimbaud’s autobiography, Shibboleth: My Revolting Life.
 

 
Thank you to Brad Laner for calling this delightfully weird pop culture connection to our attention.

 
This treasure currently has fewer than 60 views!

According to YouTube poster, bookheaven1thousand, the Captain and his band came onstage at 3:00 a.m. on the morning of December 10, 1980.

1. Hair Pie Bake 3
2. Best Batch Yet
3. Dirty Blue Gene (cut)
4. Sugar ‘n Spikes
5. Ashtray Heart
6. Doctor Dark
7. Sheriff Of Hong Kong (cut)
8. Making Love To A Vampire With A Monkey On My Knee
9. Suction Prints (cuts 20 seconds before end)
10. Big Eyed Beans From Venus

This set killed me. It’s one of the best and funkiest live performances I’ve ever heard from this band.

Some additional background from the YouTube post:

Peter Warner: Anyone ever come across a video of Captain Beefheart’s Mudd Club performance (the day [He means 2 days] after John Lennon’s death)? I was one of the handful of fans there and know it exists (Gary Lucas told me he confiscated the master: it was standard practice by the club for all performance to be taped). It was a wild night. Some girl in a big red sweater (good looking and drunk as all hell) was hangin’ all over me. She kept throwing change at the Captain telling him to shut up. I told the Cap I didn’t know who this chick was. (in hindsight, I shoulda gone for the chick.)

The Cap and I got into a stareing match—he singing away inches from my face as I growled back. What the hell, I was an obnoxious, drunk 17 year old. I actually made it to class the next morning.

Raymond Ricker: The band played there at 4 in the morning just a few hours after their Irving Plaza show concluded. I was about 1 of 30 people in attendance for that show (Don spent a good portion of the show putting up with an obnoxious girl who was drunk out her mind). If it wasn’t for Moris inviting me I would never have known there was going to be a performance there. As far as I know, this was the only time that band performed Making Love To A Vampire With A Monkey On My Back [He means “Knee”]

The Magic Band will be performing live at the three-day Greg Dulli/All Tomorrow’s Parties-curated “I’ll Be Your Mirror” music festival in NYC on Sunday, September 23rd.
 

Einstürzende Neubauten’s ‘Jewels’ visualized in 3D.
 
Flavor Wire hipped me to the research and experimentation studio Realität. Their latest project is called Mircosonic Landscapes which is “An algorithmic exploration of the music we love. Each album_s soundwave proposes a new spatial and unique journey by transforming sound into matter/space: the hidden into something visible.”

According to Flavor Wire:

“Each piece was created with the open-source, three-dimensional data visualization programming language known as Processing, and then printed via a programmable machine that can print in plastic called MakerBot.”
 

Portishead’s ‘Third’ visualized in 3D.
 

Nick Drake’s ‘Pink Moon’ visualized in 3D.

Visit Flavor Wire to see 3D-printed visualizations of Antony and the Johnsons and the composition “Für Alina” by Arvo Pärt. I wonder how an album of music that is much more rhythmic and syncopated than any of these examples, say something where Tony Allen was drumming? A Phillip Glass piece? Bitches Brew? Sea santies? “Rapper’s Delight”?

 
A pair of soiled and stained underwear worn by The King of Rock and Roll himself, Elvis Presley, will be going up for auction next month at Omega Auctions. Elvis wore this particular pair of undies beneath one of his flashy white jumpsuits back in 1977.

It’s expected that The King’s fecal-stained briefs could fetch up to £10,000.

Omega Auctions will be live streaming the auction on its website September 8.

Via Arbroath

 
When Matt Groening hired Danny Elfman to write the theme for The Simpsons, he gave him a mixed tape of songs that he wanted the music to sound like: The theme from The Jetsons, some of Esquivel’s “space age bachelor-pad music,” a teach-your-parrot-to-talk record, selections from Nino Rota’s Juliet of the Spirits soundtrack and this unused Frank Zappa-produced radio commercial for Remington electric shavers that features the vocal stylings of none other than a young Linda Ronstadt.

The future queen of country rock is nearly unrecognizable here, speeded-up, multi-tracked and sounding like she’s just taken a hit off a helium balloon. At the end, Zappa tells listeners that the Remington electric razor “cleans you, thrills you… may even keep you from getting busted.”

According to legend, after giving the tape several listens Elfman told Groening, “I know exactly what you’re looking for!”