Amoeblog

In Square Circle

Posted by Mr. Chadwick, November 17, 2007 04:00pm | Post a Comment


So, borrowing from the later period Stevie Wonder catalog, I call this group of promo stickers "In Square Circle". Above we have the lovely Barbara Mandrell from her "Moods" LP...I came across a big stash of sealed copies recently!


Here we've got a couple of stickers, one of which is not circular, but I'll include it anyway.





Up next, a custom job...someone made their own grammy brag for our favorite band of sidemen...Up next, more Grammy bragging...





     Album of the year 1977...






Speaking of Stevie's...here's a nice "mirror" job from the Mac's main mystic...




Last but not least, good friends of the Witchy Woman, with a nice "Rockin and Rollin" sticker that attempts to blend with the theme of the cover. This is not the greatest example of said technique...Next week I'l have a batch of stickers that do nail the essence of the cover which they adhere to...

(In which the group's adventures come to a close.)

Posted by Job O Brother, June 11, 2007 09:14am | Post a Comment
Everyone awoke a little gloomy. It was our last day, and check-out time was only four hours away. Logan in-particular was not okay with this and sought out the front desk to plea our case. The result was a new check-out time of four o’clock, at no additional charge.

I’m not sure what Logan had to do to get this sweet deal; knowing her, they were probably just charmed, but that makes for a boring blog, so let’s pretend she seduced the owner’s wife, or at the very least threatened them with rad karate moves.


"Hit me with your best shot" - Logan in control

With only half a day left, the majority agreed that the best thing to do was give me a haircut.

Uh, wha...? Really? It’s that bad?

What I saw as my sexy, shaggy mop – so hip and suave was, unbeknownst to me, something akin to Eric Stoltz’ hot look in the movie “Mask”. Apparently I had been unwittingly turning Greek adventurers into stone with my mere hairdo. Who knew?


Bad hair daze: Eric Stoltz, Medusa, and me

Carrie was adamant. She was going to cut my hair. My boyfriend immediately switched to publicist mode, yelling demands and controlling events from his chaise lounge. “Short!” he kept shouting, “Short… short!”


BEFORE: Carrie assesses the situation


The Master Hair-stylist can adapt to any situation


Beauty and the Beast

My own opinions were merely tolerated as flights of fancy. I had been reduced to a pre-Suffragette woman with hopes of one day earning a living for herself, winning the right to vote, or at the very least, opening her own door without being seen as a dangerous lesbian.

“All I want is a room of my own,” I implored, “Or a beer and a smoke. Get me a beer and a smoke!” I transformed into a high-maintenance star. I demanded fresh, cold bruskis and lit cigarettes. Logan, who photographed the event, became my unwitting slave.

“I want music!” I howled.

“The turntable’s in the living room,” Logan explained.

“Then move it into the kitchen!” I screeched. I reasoned I could afford to be so petulant, because I had subjected myself to the group’s desire to convert my coiffure. Suddenly, the cliché roles of Hollywood celebrity-versus-production company made new sense to me. They wanted to use me as a product; as such, my body/mind must succumb to their vision, the payoff for which is the need to keep me happy, lest I sabotage everything.

It’s a circle of life.


AFTER: Apparently I gained 15 pounds during my haircut

To her credit, Carrie gave me what I honestly believe to be the best haircut I’ve e’er had.

(For the last six or seven years of my life I have cut my own hair. I began doing this out of spite. Every time I went to a barber, I would carefully and clearly explain what I wanted, then they would proceed to do whatever gruesome scheme had been dictated them over the night by the dog down the street. Hair by Son of Sam. And for this I would pay money. Actual money! Finally I snapped and refused to stay in such an abusive relationship.

“I may well f**k up my hair by cutting it myself,” I reasoned, “But at least I won’t be paying for it, too.”)

After the styling, Corey couldn’t keep his hands off me, which is exactly the sort of behavior I encourage.


"Get that camera out of my love life!" - Job & Corey, post-haircut

The four of us milled around our beloved bungalow and lamented losing it. The time came to pack and we did. It was the first time in three days we had to do something we didn’t want to do, and we were little, whinny, crybabies about it.

Logan spoke of returning to Los Angeles as though she were being returned to Guantanamo Bay.

With heavy hearts and a loaded car, we left 29 Palms. We set course for an hour-long detour through scenic Joshua Tree. Carrie took it upon herself to play DJ with my 80-gig iPod, causing sonic whiplash as she segued from “Miss Clare Remembers” by Enya to “Nasty” by Janet Jackson.


We stopped along the way to take photographs. At some point during the shoot, Logan and Corey spotted a rattlesnake relaxing nearby. At the exact moment they announced this, I was snapping a picture of Carrie, and the face I captured is hilarious! But to keep her from deleting it, she made me promise not to post it. Let me tell you, you are missing out. But a promise is a promise and you won’t see it here on my blog.

HOWEVER, send $17.00 and a blank t-shirt to me, c/o Amoeba Music Hollywood, and I will make you a “Carrie reacts to news of a rattlesnake” t-shirt; destined to be a collector’s item and quite possibly the end of her friendship with me.


Christine McVie & Stevie Nicks... oh wait, it's Logan & Carrie.


"We'll build the next Amoeba Music on that rock, there" - Logan & Job

By the time we made it through the desert, night had fallen. It wasn’t long before we were once again engulfed in neon lights and acres of strip-malls.


This is what a Manager of Amoeba Music looks like. Apply within.

We stopped at In-n-Out Burger. Carrie and I could have sworn we saw a customer order “peppers” and receive some from behind the counter. She and Logan were also wowed by my fries, which I had ordered “animal-style”, an option they weren’t aware existed. I also order my double-double “protein-style”, which is sans-bun for those of you not in-the-know. It led to us pondering what secrets In-n-Out still has.

“What other options are there?” we wondered. Could I order my milkshake “Full House” and receive it with an autographed 8x10 glossy of a nude John Stamos?

Dude… that would rock...


[Insert a few minutes of silence here as the author ponders this, before sudden embarrassment snaps him back to reality.]

Logan was beginning to suffer from her recent sunburn, but gallantly drove us the whole way, cashing in on that private-reserve of stoic determination that God bequeaths all Daughters of Sappho. We played games of 20 Questions the whole ride home.

(I was unjustly ridiculed for some of my answers, dear reader. You would be horrified to learn of the way my fellow travelers abused me during this game. It was inevitable that my best friend and my boyfriend, meeting on this vacation for the first time, would eventually join forces against me. It was cruel, oh my brothers, so that even the Angels would weep for my soul as it was tormented by my friends’ total poopy-facedness.)

It’s moments like now that make having a blog so worthwhile.

Logan and Carrie dropped Corey and I off at his home, and we said our good-byes.

The next day, Carrie and I rendezvoused one last time for a brief shopping stint on Melrose, then we walked to Amoeba, where a taxi took her away from us. John Doe was playing an in-store, but even that couldn’t lighten Logan or my heart.

Huge, grey storm-clouds appeared and began drizzling. Babies cried, and mothers went out in a vain search for food. Men stood in unemployment lines, as cattle died of disease. Stock markets crashed and World Trade Centers crumbled again and again. French fries turned cold. In short, all was lame.

Until ten minutes later when I began watching season two of “The L Word”.

The end!

Mac Attack - I'm Over My Head

Posted by Miss Ess, June 2, 2007 03:18pm | Post a Comment

All I ever really want to listen to is Fleetwood Mac, and I am NOT talking about the Peter Green years.  I'm talking the full-on 70s, shawl wearing, twirling, super chemistry, exposed chest hair with gold chains, cokehead Buckingham/Nicks era. There is no comparison.


Sitting here all day, I have had the self titled Fleetwood Mac CD on repeat. I have heard these songs since my birth. I bet my mom listened to this record while she was pregnant with me. These songs are ingrained in me. There is not a bad track on this record, but my favorites on  this and all their records are always the Stevie Nicks tunes. Some of the earliest memories of my life are these songs, trying to sing along, trying to understand the words, thinking how weird it is that "children grow older" as sung in "Landslide" and how I was gonna grow up soon (this was when I was about 5 maybe?). Yikes!

"Crystal" is one of the best songs Miss Stevie ever wrote, in my opinion. First of all, the name of the song, "Crystal," is just so damn classic for a song by Stevie. You know it's her right away. Then there are the beautiful lyrics about a multidimensional, all encompassing and almost scarily polarizing love. I love how the song starts so quietly and goes on forever, fading and fading.

I am also really into the fact that somehow it was decided that Lindsey Buckingham would have to sing this one, though Stevie wrote it. She sings backing vocals to his lead. I'd love to know the inside story on how that decision was made. Considering that they were still going out at the time but their decade-ish long love affair was only a year or so from coming to an end, it's an intense listen, at least for me cause I'm a silly dreamer and I like to imagine how crazy and deep their relationship must have been. If you watch footage of recent Fleetwood Mac shows, you can still see the chemistry between Buckingham and Nicks and how they play off of one another and flirt with their eyes. I enjoy that.

If you have not yet seen the DVD that expounds upon the making of most people's favorite Fleetwood Mac record, Rumours, I highly recommend it! It's called Classic Albums:  Fleetwood Mac Rumours and it's radical. Usually I think these kind of DVDs are cheesy and uninformative but this one is the opposite-- it leaves you wanting more! There are all kinds of dishy stories in there and all the band members are interviewed along with studio technicians. The album was recorded mostly at the fabulous Record Plant in Sausalito, CA., and the band (as most people know) was suffering internally from the breakups of Buckingham and Nicks, Christine McVie and John McVie and even Mick Fleetwood and his wife. All that discomfort and pain led to one fantastic record!

Anyway, the DVD is super great for a gossip hound like me who likes to know all the technical details of what recording the record was like but also what was going on behind the scenes. Apparently Stevie wrote "Dreams" during a moment of respite with her Rhodes on a giant four poster bed that Sly Stone had had dragged into one of the studios there. 

Isn't it almost always true that bands with multiple songwriters and multiple lead vocalists are the best but also the most plagued by drama? The Beatles, The Band, Love (and Fleetwood Mac of course) come to mind immediately and there are plenty more. I like a band with some variety and vitality and when no one in particular is in charge it seems to bring about a certain chemistry that is unusual and exciting.

But maybe it's just me and my random thoughts.
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