Marky Ramone has gotten into the trailer food craze with his Cruisin’ Kitchen, which has a suitably Ramones-like minimalist menu offering four types of meatball sandwiches: Italian (beef), Asian (pork), American (turkey) and Mexican (chorizo).

Hey Marky, why no chicken vinadaloo?

“Hanging out on Second Avenue
Eating chicken vindaloo…”

Nosh pit:
 

 

 
Happy Birthday Lee Brilleaux, the unforgettable lead singer of R&B band Dr Feelgood.

Born sixty years ago today, Brilleaux was raised in Canvey Island the hard-living, oil refinery community on the Thames Estuary. It was a perfect backdrop for Brilleaux to develop his taste for working class R&B, and in 1971, he co-founded Dr. Feelgood with guitarist and song-writer, Wilko Johnson. Together they became the twin poles to one of Britain’s most dynamic R&B bands.

DM’s Marc Campbell notes that last month a CD boxset All Through The City was released, and is a definite must-have for all Feelgood fans.

Meantime, here to remember Lee Brilleaux and Dr Feelgood is “15 minutes of magic in 4 songs” taken from the film Going Back Home from 1975.
 

 
Bonus clip of Dr. Feelgood on ‘The Old Grey Whistle Test’, after the jump…
 

 
Binky Philips has been writing his rock and roll memoirs in the form of a column for the Huffington Post for the past few years. It’s good stuff - funny, warm-hearted and full of the kind of telling details you’d expect from someone who’s traveled through the untamed underbelly of Manhattan’s rock scene during the 1970s and 80s.

What makes Binky’s writing particularly insightful is that through all of his adventures in music he’s been more than just an onlooker, he’s been a participant, a smokin’ guitar player who stood on stages in some of the great rock clubs of the past four decades, including CBGB and Max’s (stages I’ve shared with him). His band The Planets are one of the great unsung groups in American rock and roll and have an almost mythical status among rock fans. Not only because they were great, but also because their music is so fucking hard to find.

In many ways, Binky has been his own worst enemy when it comes to fame. I believe his love of the music overshadowed any business strategy. In that respect, he reminds me of myself. There are times when you really do just do it for the love and not the almighty dollar. When the music seems so sacred, it’s hard to look at it as product. In his writing, you can feel his religious zeal for the pop culture he grew up on and the rock musicians that altered his life forever. And for someone who probably deserved to be a major-league rock star, there’s not a shred of regret or bitterness in his rock and roll heart.

I’m sharing Binky’s most recent Huffington piece on Adam Yauch and the Beastie Boys. It’s a lovely tale and I want to get it out there. For more of Binky’s writing visit his column here.

My God, did we flip for the Beasties at ‘my’ record store, St. Mark’s Sounds in the East Village back in the 80s. We just thought they were a riot. They had all been semi-regular customers for quite awhile. Drummer, Kate, an inveterate browser, seemed to live in our rock section. She would later show up in Luscious Jackson, purveyors of the timelessly fab “Naked Eyes”.

This gang, of what I correctly assumed were NYU students, were always jolly and/or intent on finding something specific as quickly as possible. Unlike some posses of troublemakers, this was a little crew who kinda happily hummed with a Very Alive vibe. It is worth noting that all the early Beastie videos were populated with this same Kadre of Kool Jerk Kool.

One day, two of this sect’s young goofballs walked in with several boxes of 7” 45s under their arms.

“We just made a record. Can we leave some on consignment?”

Our store policy was to never refuse. We’d take 5 of anything anyone ever brought in like that, supporting local acts with as little fuss as possible. These two were pitching me to take a whole box. Since I knew them, at least by sight, I took 10 copies of “The Pollywog EP” from Adam Yauch and Mike Diamond.

They left and I put it on the store’s stereo. We were all howling within a minute. They had turned Punk into a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

“Egg Raid On Mojo” was about one of our other regular customers. Mojo, was a large, gregarious, very handsome, very dark-skinned, Ska-styled doorman at more than one hip boite downtown. He was a genuinely okay guy, but, his gig led him to being a bit “I’m hot and know it”, one lame vibe, indeed. The Beasties would have none of it. The song recalls true events. While “Egg Raid” is an absurdist punk classic, for me, of the Beastie Boys’ early ‘work’, “Cooky Puss” is nonpareil, the most wonderfully ridiculous crank call of all time with a hilariously wretched noise-rhythm track.

Anyway, a week later, diffident Adam walked into the store with more 45s. I bought a box, the 10 having sold within two days. WTF?! What was up with these dopes?! Adam’s reaction to me offering to buy a box outright, the hell with consignment, was memorable. Every cell in his body silently screamed “OF COURSE YOU ARE!” while remaining unflappably deadpan. I actually felt this.

This became a little weekly ritual; Adam coming in on a Thursday or Friday afternoon, almost dour, in a hurry, handing me another box, me handing him cash. Probably sold over 300 of ‘em. Mine’s in storage, rats!

I found Adam’s demeanor intriguing, totally at odds with his band’s vibe. Deadly serious with that sort of classic off-in-the-distance gaze. Looking back, other than the first pitch, MCA was the only one to bring the records by, clearly the one BB focused on turning what started out a total joke (How bad can we be?) into something that has rightfully had lasting international impact.

The Beastie Boys are possibly the most wonderful example of the maxim (I just made up)... You make it big by never having the intention to do so!

When “Licensed To Ill” was released, we’d play it in the store for literal hours, just flipping back and forth between side one and two. It was extreme fun to annoy sensible customers with a stadium-volume spin of “Girls” several times a day. All my fellow employees decided to treat the album with an absurd reverence. “Is it time?”, we’d solemnly ask before dropping the needle for the 120th time. A great mind-fuck of a rekkid! My only complaint, they didn’t use the BB’s original title, “Don’t Be A Faggot”! Like Eminem’s Detroit, in Brooklyn, that word didn’t have the virulent bigoted connotation. It just meant downer, wimp, lame, chump… Def Jam punked out! How faggot-y, Russell!

I grew up in an idyllic neighborhood called Brooklyn Heights, right at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge. Adam Yauch grew up there, too. My oldest and dearest Heights pal, Ben, lived two doors east of the Yauchs. Being 12 years older than Adam, Ben often babysat. I was at Ben’s house all the time. I might’ve met a Beastie Boy when he was a baby and don’t recall it. Ben tells me that Adam Yauch was wonderful right from the jump, a devoted son with both his folks.

Ben’s parents used to have to “endure” the earliest rehearsals of the nascent Beasties as they made ungodly guitar and drum noise in the Yauchs’ living room two doors down.
One can imagine.

The image I want to leave you with, because I suspect it is truly an accurate depiction of Adam Yauch…

About 5 or 6 years ago, Brooklyn Babysitter Ben’s Dad was in rehab following two knee replacements. His Mom was living at home alone for quite some time. One day, as Ben was walking down his old block on his way to pay Mom a visit, he saw her coming towards him with a tallish guy carrying 2 or 3 grocery bags for her. The tallish guy was International Rap Superstar, Adam MCA Yauch.”

 
Binky would probably be pissed with me for focusing too much on him at the expense of Adam Yauch, but they’re both seminal members of the New York music scene, so fuck it.

Binky playing at Max’s Kansas City in 1975:
 

 
The Beastie Boys performing “Egg Raid On Mojo” in Brooklyn in 2007:

 
Via Binky Philips and The Huffington Post

 
This was Mick Jones’ last performance with The Clash in front of an audience of 140,00, headlining at the New Wave Day for the US Festivals, Saturday May 28th 1983. The support was an odd mix for New Wave, consisting of Divinyls, INXS, Men At Work, Flock of Seagulls, The Stray Cats and Oingo Boingo. The quality is rough and watery VHS, but it all adds to its appeal.
 

 
Years before Bob Seger became a mega-star whose voice is inextricably tied to Chevrolet trucks and gag-inducing images of Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear, he was a punkish Michigan rocker that did proud by that state’s hard rock heritage. But he’s never seemed particularly fond of his early garage rock days. His recordings with the System and The Last Heard haven’t been available in authorized versions for decades. His career-spanning cd release of last year doesn’t contain anything recorded by either band. It’s as though Seger has chosen to let that part of his past fade from memory.

It is my opinion (and in this I’m hardly alone) that Seger’s output between the mid-60s and early 70s was his finest, but good luck finding any of it on Seger-sanctioned pressings. With the exception of Smokin’ O.P.‘s and the woefully incomplete and poorly put together Early Seger Vol. 1, Seger’s badass best is is only available as bootlegs or expensive out-of-print rarities. 

I saw Seger with the Silver Bullet Band in the mid-70s in a club in Boulder, Colorado. He put on an absolutely ferocious show that rocked HARD. No frills, no bullshit, just good ol’ rock n’ roll distilled to its essence. This was at a time when my own musical tastes were shifting toward punk and I found Seger, in his uncontrived way, to be as raw and tough as some of the new stuff coming from The Clash and The Dictators. I think my buddy Jello Biafra (in his pre-Jello days) was at the show with me and concurred that Seger was the real deal.

In 1976, Seger released the last album that I felt any particular connection to, Night Moves. And that was only because of the title tune, which still poetically evokes a teenage wet dream of cars and girls that I can relate to.

Yes, Seger was cool once upon a time. It’s ironic that the man who wrote “Rock And Roll Never Forgets” seems to have forgotten a big chunk of his own rock and roll past.
 

 
Some more Seger in his prime after the jump…

 
As sardonic and dead-pan as its subject, London-based artist Krent Able’s “Dr. Cave” comics are a beautifully drawn and darkly hilarious series of adventures featuring rock n’ roll’s most lovable misanthrope.

Able is really quite brilliant. Visit his website and be prepared to have your mind blown. His work is a perfect balance of wit and stunning craft.

Able has a great idea for his images of Nick dancing with a duck and astride a monkey: “repeat it as a pattern, and then sell it as children’s wallpaper. Such a treat for the darling little ones!”

Yes, please.
 

 
Krent Able is a regular contributor to one of the smartest music mags on the ‘net, The Stool Pigeon.

Photo by Glen E. Friedman

An entire generation is sad today.

Adam Nathaniel Yauch, “MCA” (August 5, 1964 - May 4, 2012)

May he rest in peace.

In the video below, the Beastie Boys when they were all about 19 or 20 years old on the Manhattan Cable cable access program, The Scott & Gary Show on Valentines Day, 1984. Kate Schellenbach, later of Luscious Jackson, was a Beastie girl, playing drums in the group from 1979 to 1984, when they were basically a lighthearted punk band.
 

 
After the jump, an interview with the young Beastie Boys (and girl)

 
Henry Rollins’ advice on self-confidence, self-reliance, coming from a poor background and overcoming obstacles.

This is one of the best Rollins spoken word pieces ever. Might be the best.
 

 
Watch the original version at Big Think

 
Argentinian garage rockers Capsula are in heavy rotation on the interstellar radio station in my brain. I’m digging their Iggy/Bowie/Velvet Underground vibe big time.

Currently residing in Spain, Capsula are Martin Guevara on guitar and vocals, Coni Duchess on bass and drummer Ignacio Villarejo. They’re about to embark on a tour of the States and their first three albums are scheduled to be released in re-mastered form on May 17th. Check out their website for more info.

Here’s “Hit N’ Miss” from Capsula’s album In The Land Of Silver Souls. Play it loud!  And stick around for the interview.
 

 
Thanks to Handsome Dick Manitoba for the turn-on.

Lapsed Catholic Stiv Bators with Brooke Shields.
 
A must-see interview with Stiv Bators which aired in March of 1986 on Cleveland’s longest running cable music show, VidMag Television.

Danny Reed of Syl Sylvain & the Teardrops is the interviewer and his casual and open style results in something less like an interview and more like a chat between two friends. As an ex-Catholic boy, I am particularly empathetic with Bator and Reed’s Catholic school recollections.

Stiv is very candid, sexually explicit, politically incorrect and totally entertaining - a close-up look at one of punk rock’s sweetest bad boys.

Video kicks off with about 45 seconds of silent footage of The Lords Of The New Church before getting into the interview.