Amoeblog

Pendersleigh & Sons Cartographical Art Show - Opening Night

Posted by Eric Brightwell, June 21, 2011 10:50pm | Post a Comment
PENDERSLEIGH & SONS CARTOGRAPHY


If you're a fan of the primitive, hand-drawn maps that I do for Eric's Blog, then set aside 25 June to come to my first art show at 1650 Gallery in Echo Park. They'll be displaying forty pieces and offering originals, reprints in various sizes, and taking new commissions (also in various sizes).

   

 

   

If you want to see or join the Facebook group Pendersleigh & Sons Cartography then just click on that link right there. Don't wanna take my word for it? Check out Eastsider LAUrbino Walk in Progress, All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands, Intersections South LA, Good, Got Geoint? or LAist.

  
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And by the way, If you'd like to to vote for any of the communities of Los Angeles County communities to be covered on the blog (and thus also the subject of a new map), vote here. To vote for Los Angeles neighborhoods, click here. To vote for Orange County neighborhoods, vote here
 
*****

Vinyl Confidential, 4.2 – The Damned Odd Order of Oblong Boxes

Posted by Whitmore, June 19, 2010 08:14pm | Post a Comment
“When I got home I mixed a tall stiff one and stood on my balcony, leaned heavy against the railing, looking over and down five stories. Standing, sipping, I listened to the groundswell of cars and trucks and the banshee cry of sirens blasting down Los Feliz Boulevard and beyond. The curve of the hills flushes the boulevard down onto Western, past Hollywood and Sunset Blvds. Twenty four hours a day, eight days a week, most everybody is running, gunning, trying to catch-up with the intangible, the impossible. Hollywood lives live. The traffic’s din drowns out the Ye-ye 45’s dropping and spinning on the turntable inside, that’s Okay, the taste of the Scotch lingers, deliciously with every gulp as I squint down at the glower of a pissed off population begging for a little traffic love, one more time on a Friday night.
 
Rock is dead, I read the other day. After being maimed by massive dog food/fast food/oily crude/pre-chewed corporations, new music has given up the ghost under the obese crassness of money theocracy. What is served up routinely by the big boys is about as gratifying as being beaten, robbed, strangled, drawn and quartered to a soundtrack of “We Built this City on Rock and Roll” as performed by Insane Clown Posse.
 
People are hungry for soul, for adventure, anything that doesn’t leave them sick and bored and desperate. People aren’t lonely; they just feel angry and cruel. In a city no worse than most, a city rich and vital and oddly beautiful, a love affair has been lost and scattered. A city sinks into the void. Well, I guess, it all depends on where you’re standing, and how high your balcony sits above the sidewalk. I claim I no longer care. I finished my drink, went inside and crawled under the covers.”

Vinyl Confidential, 4.1 – The Odd Order of Oblong Boxes Returns

Posted by Whitmore, June 8, 2010 04:54pm | Post a Comment
“Because, you know how it is, in this business you can't sleep for trying to imagine all the great records you’re missing out on out there somewhere at a yard sale or a thrift store or at the other end of Amoeba ... And then, you're also the guy behind the turntable, watching the people dancing, getting laid, every night. And then one night, you get to thinking, how do I get laid out there? But to do it smart. That’s the question. You've got those wheels spinning right under your hands, but not necessarily the wheels gyrating in your head.
You may know every groove of every record by heart, but try and figure out the mystery of seduction. And then suddenly last call, closing time. Looking out into the darkness and the whole setup is right there in the room for you. Look, I'm not trying to whitewash anything, paint a pretty picture of decorum or anything. I fought it, only I guess I didn't fight it hard enough. The stakes were too high, and yet not high enough. I’d never done dirt except now; now I’m knee high in mud and muck.”


The Vinyl Confidential, 3.3 – The Odd Order of Oblong Boxes

Posted by Whitmore, March 17, 2010 04:55pm | Post a Comment
“It was one of those evenings when the sky came down for its close-up, gray and dingy, wrapping itself around every megasized Hollywood billboard. The fog blanketed the windows of Amoeba like a broke down record geek trying to sneak out a satchel of stolen platters under his coat, and every time some honey lurched for the front door, he’d think “is now the time to dash for the exit while security talks up the sweet thing who just walked in from the rain?”
 
Meanwhile down in the used 45 section, in the middle of the dozens of colorful boxes filled with musty records, some with enough gray, dingy dust thrown in to make you choke, two employees with barely two bits of sense between them were arguing over what was the better Dee Dee Warwick single, “You're No Good” or “I'm Gonna Make You Love Me.” That is, until a cool pair of legs in an outfit too short for the weather walked past us. Casually folded around her waist, a studded belt whispered sweet nothings to the black satin skirt she wore, she was young but her expression said she knew her stuff. Her muck boots looked like two skinned Siamese cats, suddenly a chorus of “Cat Scratch Fever” bopped into my head. Our employee conversation evaporated instantly.
 
Glancing about the shelves for a moment, in a matter of fact manner she said she needed to score some good Northern Soul ... if we had any. “You’ve come to the right place.” I pointed to the appropriate oblong box. She gave another box a swift shove out of the way as she reached into one marked Soul, quickly grabbing a record in a plain white sleeve on the old Blue Rock label. Staring at her new find for a split second, her lips tipped with a wicked grin, she snarled, “You’re both completely wrong.” As she sauntered away, she flashed us the single "We're Doing Fine," Dee Dee Warwick, 1965. She was right, absolutely right. And just before I decided I could only afford a wet evening alone, her hips waved back, certifying, "see you later fools.”

Vinyl Confidential, 3.1 – The Odd Order of Oblong Boxes

Posted by Whitmore, March 3, 2010 05:05pm | Post a Comment
It’s been a while since I’ve posted any art work from the ol’ 45 room, AKA Vinyl Shangri-La. So this month I’ll be spotlighting some of our finer art brut escapades, high jinks, larks, monkeyshines, roguery, romps, shenanigans and simple low art sagacity.
 
“Art used to be a game of nuts in May, children would go gathering words that had a final ring, then they would exude, shout out the verse, and dress it up in dolls' bootees, and the verse became a queen in order to die a little, and the queen became a sardine, and the children ran hither and yon, unseen.” Tristan Tzara
 
The Elvis collection, Elvis 1.0 and Elvis the Sequel ...
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