September 22, 2008

I Got Mad Cankles: The Art of Melissa & Trish, continued

The artistic vision of Trish & Melissa has been transformative, not only within their immediate environment, but in the minds and attitudes of coworkers and among their more politically-minded peers. Sadly, their work has gone unrecognized in the broader gallery world, the art scene’s leading magazines and curators having chosen to ignore two of the 21st Century’s most promising new conceptual artists in favor of trendy musical groups and performance art.

In our opinion, the institutionalized exclusion of these two cultural wunderkinds from the hallowed grounds of elite critical discussion is no less than a crime against art.

“Is it humanly possible to feel completely sick to the stomach when your [sic] around someone?

yes-√     no-☐

Glad you agree with me! Now I need you to please go home and take a shower to wash off the smell of camel and corn. Please.”

...

“I would normally say you aren’t worthy enough to fuck a human but I seriously can’t let myself as a P.E.T.A. member to [sic] allow you to fornicate with animals either. It’s complete animal cruelty! Please do the world a favor and shoot yourself in the face.”

“Dear fuckface: I wanted to again let you know my deep and concerned appreciation for you working here. *clears throat* You working here has turned my delicate life into a everlasting nightmare surrounded by little demons tearing at my flesh… Every moment with you makes me beg for mercy from god to take my life. So thank you!... you heatheness banshee for making my days twice as long and making all my fears come to life. Without you I might just be happy! ♡ Melissa”

When, finally, the future scholars of aesthetic history locate these works and endeavor to illuminate the profound oeuvre of Trish and Melissa, these works will undoubtedly end up sold for thousands of hundreds of Euros at auction.

Until then, please remember to be courteous to girls who work in filing rooms.

Rick at 9:44 pm

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September 20, 2008

Magoo

Magoo is a female possum who likes to eat a snack. She really does!

Rick at 2:15 pm

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September 18, 2008

Headache City

Here’s a band I have never seen and know relatively little about. However, their music rocks my goddamn balls. This site is therefore incomplete without a plug.

They are called Headache City and they hail from Chicago. During my grand Illinois trip last year, my pal Melissa (who currently grooms the future Midwest rock ‘n’ roll hotties and poets of the coming decade through her Chicago little girls’ rock camp) loaned me their full-length self-titled CD. You know what happened next (hint: it involves my goddamn balls – see above).

The Headache City sound is a little bit garage and a little bit punk, but instead of the chaos or potential blandness of the latter they have substituted a steady pounding authority. It’s simple, catchy and unusual, yet there’s room for lots of variation. Could I get any more vague? Put it this way: Having never attended their gigs, I picture a few of their fans twirling like Ecstasy-addled hippies at a rave and still others solemnly headbanging like the crowd at an Emperor show. Anyway, it’s all real hooky and very fun, even during midtempo bum trips like “Tearjerker.” If you ask me, the band’s namesake song is the hit side – a hard charging, infectious, straight-down-the-middle anthem.

The City currently consists of Mike Fitzpatrick (guitar, bass, vox), Dave Head (bass, vox, guitar) and Lisa Roe (drums, vox). The player of groovy synth on the album is Norah who also runs the label Shit Sandwich upon which the full-length was released (as well as some of their singles). Norah is apparently no longer in the band… my sources can’t tell me when or why… so I think they’re a three-way now. Go hit the MySpace if you want more, better info.

Two of HC’s members (Lisa and Mike) also play in the fierce farfisa group Cococoma who are quite punishing on the aforementioned balls as well. They have a new-ish LP out on Goner Records, one of our favorite labels.

So that’s it. And now, if after skimming the previous text, you actually want to download these songs and listen to this fine, fine band, perhaps even purchase their records and “support” the “scene,” then I have succeeded in my mission. Hooray for public relations!

p.s. All photos shamelessly stolen from the band website and defaced by me.

Headache City – “Headache City”

Headache City – “Ha Ha”

Headache City – “Tearjerker”

Headache City – “Down the Drain”

Rick at 12:35 am

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September 9, 2008

Nothing Doings

Occasionally, people come across old Toestubber posts and – perhaps not realizing that we’ve been dormant almost a year with nary a peep on the site – they make contact to supply me with updates and/or additional insider info. It’s great when a pile of research falls into my lap, sparing me the effort. There are several such emails I’ve been holding back for the date when I’d be posting again.

Recently, Michael “Mickey Crash” Oakleaf was kind enough to write. He was the drummer on the infamous The Nothing 45 which was reviewed here a couple of years back. The Nothing is one of those bands that’s been a big mystery to many learned scholars of early New York punk rock. As I mentioned in the old post, singer Trixz Sly had a tiny background role in the movie Driller Killer, their only record is impossibly rare (though it has been reissued on compilations, most notably the Killed By Death series)... and that’s about all the direct info I could find at the time. Let’s get the real scoop from Mickey Crash hisself:

“I was in touch with Trixz up until a few years ago when he passed away in Miami, Florida. I’m happy that people like the record after all these years. At the time it was made, we had a very hard time and ended up giving most of the 45s away to fans, etc. We were banned from Max’s and The Mudd Club. Most people thought Trixz was a troublemaker and no record companies were interested.

“There’s a video on YouTube of the band’s second incarnation (after Angel left to join the Rockats) playing at The Showplace in Dover NJ in early 1980… The keyboards were by Webster Smith (Rex Smith’s brother). He joined along with Phil after Angel left in February 1980. Eddie Spit (Fields) replaced Angel on guitar.” ...

... “The bass player, Phil Shoenfeldt, and I left to join Disturbed Furniture a few months after the video was shot by Al Zero. Bobby B. Wild (guitar) left in August of ‘79 shortly after the single was made.

“The record was recorded at Bernard Fox Studios in NYC by an engineer named George(?). An intern there named Judy DiBerardino adopted the band to record for her senior high school project. It was recorded in one afternoon, in July or August of 1979, and mixed a few days later by George and Trixz. The crazy tambourine part was overdubbed by Trixz, and the rest of the band wasn’t happy about it. I remember when we were recording that George used every pad available to cut down the hot mic levels, but all the meters were still pinned. He gave up and rolled the tape despite the distortion.

“I went on to a career in audio, and currently manage Kampo Cultural Center which has several recording studios and an art gallery/performance space not far from where CBGB used to be. Before that I worked at Sony Studios. I’ve played in many other NYC bands and still play drums (most recently with Brett Smiley)... Angel and I have been talking about putting out a CD of the remastered 45 plus some unreleased tracks. With any luck it might happen before we kick the bucket too.”

The video (above) suffers a bit from poor technical fidelity (probably in part due to loud-as-fuckness), but to Nothing fans, it’s certainly worth seeing, for context and for some unheard tunes!

A very sincere thank you to Mick for taking the time to set the record (ahem) straight on this amazing artifact.

And here’s the music again, for a brief time…

The Nothing – Scream ‘n’ Cry

The Nothing – Uniformz

Rick at 9:46 pm

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September 7, 2008

Fear and Humiliation With a Dash of Old Spice: The Art of Melissa & Trish

Trish and Melissa are a pair of talented young women who spend eight long hours a day inside a single tiny administrative office filled with two large desks, many file cabinets, computer equipment and each other. To pass the time, they like to write and draw for each other’s entertainment.

“Listen slut. Your breath smells. I can smell it all the way over here. It smells like you were eating rotten snatch. Get a breath mint. You are making our office stink. Go wash your mouth with some soap and water. I am so tired. Let’s leave!! You are stupid. I have to piss. What are you doing over there? Besides not working? You are stupid. I can hear you humming over there. SHUT THE FUCK UP STUPID! You are stupid.”

“Look here you shell of a hag. My breath might stink but at least I don’t have some type of air-born [sic] disease coming out of my vag and mouth. Everytime you open your legs or mouth the Department of Health shows up just to make sure you haven’t infected anyone. I’m seriously gonna have to talk to someone about the health hazard I work with. You’ve made me sicker as soon as you stepped in the room. You decrepit piece of shit. You fucker. You fucking suck! You fucker! Die you piece of shit! ha!! Of course I mean every single word of this and may the curse I place on you be transmitted to your children and family threw [sic] your disease infested mouth and vagina! Good day! I SAID GOOD DAY!”

More to come.

Rick at 12:27 am

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