Yes, that really is the title.
Yes, that really is the title.
So, sign up at www.tvshowsondvd.com and start crying out for your shows. With the never-ending writer's strike, now seems like a good time to start laying those golden eggs of yesteryear. Here are a few I've been pining for for a while now.
Highway Man debuted in 1988 on NBC. It had a truck with a built in helicopter. I like the way both the travel of distance and time are conveyed in the credits by the passing of hitch-hiking skeletons and road signs. And, you may recognize co-star Tim Russ as Tuvok Shakur from STV (or Star Trek Voyager).
Max Headroom from Channel 4 was amazing. If you didn't watch it you probably think of Max Headroom as a shill for Coca Cola and little more. But this show from 1987 was much more. It made me want to be a (bigger) computer nerd. Suddenly, playing Sabotage on my Apple ][e wasn't enough. I needed to surround myself with wires and screens. And I "fancied" Amanda Pays to use a Britishism (you know, how real critics do when they're writing about British stuff).
Since I just wrote about Live, I was inspired check out another video from around the same time period I also remember loving: Jeff Buckley's "Last Goodbye."
Sadly, I can't embed it, but check out the video here if you are wanting to indulge in a little early 90s nostalgia.
Oddly enough, upon viewing it fits right in with today's fashions and look! There's flannel, scraggly good looking tortured boys, wolf/lightening/nature imagery! What goes around comes around I guess. Pretty incredible.
Still think it's a great song.
Just thought I would share.
It made sense, then, that when popping a cd into my sound system, I pretty much only listened to sincere bands. Bands that were serious about their music and their message.
These dudes are intense.
So it follows that I really liked the band Live. Remember "Lightening Crashes" and "I Alone"? Their big album was their second, Throwing Copper. They bled sincerity and seriousness to me back when it meant the most to me, in those teenage years.
Times were simpler then.
Basically, when I think back, my enjoyment of Live taught me about musical obsession, about the intricacies and excitement that come along with absorbing one's self in a particular band. They weren't the first band I was acutely taken by, but they did hit me hard at the time, I have to say. I knew and analyzed every track on that album. I was intrigued by the energy and earnestness of the band. I learned about the transcendent quality of music, sitting in my bedroom with the sound pumping. At the time I thought Live were trying to uphold the values I held dear: connection, truth, and all that kind of thing. (Soooooo high school! And sooooooo serious!) I read every article I could find about them and sought out information about the authors and ideas they wrote about in their songs. Everything they did seemed so fraught with meaning.
"Gawd daamn!' I said to Richard, my co-worker and Amoeba Hip-Hop specialist, thinking I was Ice Cube for a moment. "This bar reminds me of...'
"The Short Stop," he replied.
"Yeah," I replied. "But when it was still a cop bar." By now the tequila in my drink hit me pretty hard.
"It's because it is the same owner...'' he answered, as my thoughts trailed. What was worse? A bar full of corrupt Rampart police or lame hipsters? To me, it's all the same.
Footie's was part of the hipster's exodus from the Silver Lake/Echo Park area and into Highland Park. The first steps occured at Mr. T's Bowl back in the early 90's, followed by such places as The Cave. The Cave is now a bar full of annoying 20-somethings that wish they lived in the 80's. The latest gentrified bar is The York, located on York near Ave 56. It is so tame and boring there that it might as well be located in Pasadena.
For all my shit-talking, I have to say I like Footsie's. It still retains some of that neighborhood hole-in-the wall appeal that it once had. DJ Ant, or Antony Valadez, spins there every other Sunday night. He is one of L.A.'s many underrated DJ's. All the clubs know about him because he can flat out rock a club. In fact, The Little Temple has him on lock down every Friday, along with fellow Deejay Sloe Poke, for the very popular Resident Fridays. It's a mean pick-up spot if you are newly 21-years old. It's the night they play the commercial shit for the ADD generation...with a slight slant to throw them off, just a tad.
On Sundays, Antony gets to play whatever he wants. One minute he is on a Isley Brothers/Meters trip, then he is on a Sa-Ra/Bowie trip, followed by classic Hip-Hop and Reggae tracks. The genre breaking mix matches the crowd at the bar. Soon all the heads are bopping. The bartender dances with glee after every deep cut. Vato Locos, hipsters, bikers, Post Laker and Dodger game sport freaks, lost east coast girls who came to L.A. to find themselves and the Midwestern boys who love them, conjoin in one room.