the public image is rotten

First up: fucking awful title for a documentary.

Second up: is this actually a documentary? Well, it has Thurston Moore in it, like most music documentaries that don't have Bono in them, and I have to give TM credit for never saying no to any documentary who wants to include him. Look, when the Cannanes played the Knitting Factory on the 15/5/1991 Sonic Youth were outside the venue with Epic Soundtracks (I remember talking to him and Aileen McNally about how he liked Reeves and Mortimer and she liked Julian Clary and he didn't like Julian Clary and she didn't know anything about Reeves and Mortimer, but I don't remember if he introduced me / us to Sonic Youth; my point being why wasn't Thurston Moore in the Cannanes documentary? He had at least some geographic proximity to something in that group's existence and he will clearly go to the opening of an envelope). But...

Thirdly, if this doesn't have John Lydon's fingerprints on it as a producer or something, or if it isn't officially sanctioned by him, there's no excuse for its shallow, pandering tone and even if it does/was, there's still no excuse. It is obvious to everyone - surely everyone involved in the band, let alone everyone around them - that whatever passes for PiL today/in the 20th century is a complete travesty of the original. I mean, beyond a travesty. It might as well be a PiL covers band but even that would be better than what it's become, a schmetarded piece of shit. I suppose it at least achieves one ambition of the original band: it unsettles and angers some members of the comfortable middle class i.e. me. But only because it has fallen so far from anything high quality. Those first three PiL albums were supreme genius. I admit I haven't heard Album and maybe I should do myself a favour (?). And really I haven't spent any time with anything produced under the PiL name since Flowers of Romance. But I watched this film and fucking hell. Lydon's fall from ability/capacity is just one of those sad, sad things that happen to 90% of great artists I suppose, you have to be just grateful you got them once at a good creative place. Christ. Awful! 

The film is unable to say what is clearly apparent: a great idea for a creative working unit became, over a  long period of time, a sad (if lucrative?) footnote to a career. Obviously a lot of this is due to economics and accidents and drug use (most specifically Keith Levene's) and the music industry being a crock of shit and shame, and even if JL doesn't believe his own myths (or those which have been thrust upon him) he still has to work with them. But argh. Frustrating. Thank christ it's not my problem lol. Actually I sought it out and let it upset me so more fool me. 

Two great albums I happened upon* this weekend which I heartily endorse. One is Punko's Plants Singing which came out earlier this year and which is a total gem (well, I've only listened to one side of it, but I can't imagine the other side would cancel it out even if it was gruesome) and the other is Shrapnel's Alasitas which is midway between being a 2021 cassette release and being an actual vinyl (I guess) LP and I have been playing in the car a lot. If I had to review it, which I don't, I'd say that it sounds like all those great early 80s Flying Nun bands if they'd actually formed five years earlier and were 'indebted' to prog (eg Caravan, Jethro Tull) instead of whatever they were 'indebted' to, Television or the Velvets (or imported german beer or whatever). I love it. 

*This is a lie. Both were recommended by Alec Marshall. 

some things apparently improve with age

I had grim memories of how bad this record sleeve I drew for the band Sukpatch twenty odd years ago was, but coming across it on eBay it was not as bad as I recalled it. The circumstances were probably the main problem - I was staying with a band member in, um, where was it? Cincinnati? It was after a Cannanes show and he asked me if I'd draw the cover of their new record for them. Of course I was honoured and Denise Drysdalishly I never say no to anything. But it was late, I was tired, and he and his girlfriend were smoking reputedly killer pot which I wanted some of. Or perhaps, of which wanted some I. I did this instead. It's weird that I, who have had a million opportunities to smoke pot and declined, because it makes me weird, paranoid, tense and unhappy, would somehow remember that particular time for that particular issue. Anyway. This record cover has no meaning or purpose, except to put a record in, it's not particularly attractive, but it's enough of a curate's egg for me to now feel some affection for it. OK, as you were.

(Later: I note with wistful rue that I had actually already blogged about this, four years ago. I take solace from the fact that, although I had forgotten telling the story before, I told pretty much the same story, which means it must be either true or reaffirmed with constant retelling.) 

new harry potter

There is a strange stillness in the air around Jacana/Broadmeadows/Westmeadows and I can only assume it is because everyone is tucked up in bed with the new Harry Potter. I have only read the first two and I think this is the fifth, so I have some catching up to do/surgical graft of interest before I get onto this one. Last night was The Cannanes at the Town Hall Hotel. I think there were about three people there I didn't know by name and those I'd seen before. And it was a small crowd anyway. A lot of people (well, four: Shane - Mark - Debbie - Olivia) were there earlier in the evening en route to something else (mainly the GoBs, but Olivia was going to some bizarre Arthouse thing - what was that about!?) but S, M and D returned to the Town Hall about half way through the Cs' set along with Toby. Olivia has a friend called Tristan who she and her friends call T-bone. I thought there was probably potential for giving everyone an initial+ name, and James said Toby was already known as T-boy (which is particularly good as it is an anagram too). But then I stalled on Olivia (I could only think of O-zone, which is pathetic - it's funny what other words come into your head, like I was thinking 'O for an Osram' - which was and perhaps still is a brand of lightbulb - in the Good Weekend last week they suggested that lightbulb brands were generic and no-one distinguished between them, of course I immediately thought 'O for an Osram' then too). For me, I could be D-notice, though I don't know what a D-notice is. Shane could be S-bend, or S-club 7, I'm sure there are plenty more S's. Marc I said could be M-train, but I bet there are many other M ones too. A people could be A-grade, A-bomb, A-political; B-grade, B-flat, B-good... C-plus, C-side... oh, I'm so good at this. X-file, Y-front, Z-andtwonoughts. D people could also be D-sease. The Cannanes show got off to a pretty bland start but it picked up and by the end they were really firing. Before that to kill time primarily I went to the Nova and saw My Summer of Love which struck me as having a very predictable and dull plot. I knew kind of what was going to happen (girls in small town fall in love, it goes bad) but I could tell from about the first five minutes (maybe that's an exaggeration - let's say ten) how and why and so on, and I was thinking 'oh, no, not that line of dialogue' before it happened. I really was killing time. I was actually about as bored during the movie as I had been during the pre-movie ads, most of which were repeated. What I really wanted to see was Sin City - even then only becuase it got such rave reviews and I wanted to scoff at the idea of a film that takes visually from the style of comic books/strips - just like I once scoffed so happily at Warren Beatty's Dick Tracy - but there were no appropriate sessions. Before the movie I went to the Architecture library and before that to Billy Hyde's and bought a hi-hat stand. It was pricey. But I really love it. So far. I spoke to Mia just as she and the entourage were pulling into Oakland. They're playing in SF tonight. They have made a second Possum Moods album (as Possum and the Moods now). Something to look forward to. I have run out of suspension files, which is fucked. Hopefully when I return to work on Monday I will be able to pinch or recycle some. People often just throw out suspension files, but they're pretty exy - well, about $1.50 at the cheapest stationery places, and that mounts up very fast. I must say the filing cabinet has never looked so healthy. I also borrowed Bob Dylan's Chronicles from the library yesterday but haven't really started on that yet. Instead for some reason I'm reading Wreckless Eric's biography which was also at the library. Today I am going to be cleaning, filing if possible, perhaps practicing drums and definitely finishing off my paper for the Wellington conference next year. Music played this morning: Both sides of The Motors' album (I really only like the first song each side), second side of Dave McArtney and the Pink Flamingos' first album (in honour of S. Moritz's particularly visceral response to the album cover artwork) and side one of Herbie Mann's Push Push, just to confirm I still don't like it. Next on the list? I think Flash and the Pan.