Happy Halloween With Creepy Uncle Bill And Aunt Alice (Cooper, That Is....)

Happy Halloween from Austin, TX, which has apparently decided to be Seattle for Trick Or Treating, this year. We are getting lashed with rain, since last night. To the point where, as a photo posted by my pal Metal Dave illustrates, the Stevie Ray Vaughan statue's had to learn to swim....

Texas Flood, indeed....

But how are they celebrating All Hallow's Eve in Lawrence, KS? Well, as William S. Burroughs illustrates below, they like to indulge in a little pumpkin carving....

Me? I've got boxes to pack, as there's a new apartment across town awaiting my moving in. So, we'll stop off in Detroit ca. 1971, and let the original Alice Cooper band carry us out with one of rock 'n' roll's most truly terrifying tunes, "The Ballad Of Dwight Fry," done completely live. You even get to see them setting up in this clip! Happy Halloween, y'all!

My New Hit Record: "This Magic Moment"

Last night, in a fit of solo recording frenzy, I whipped up a minimalist, lo-fi take on an old standard, Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman's "This Magic Moment." I was excited enough by the results, I hastily threw up a Soundcloud page so you can hear it. Hope you enjoy it....
 

"RADIO NAPALM" Special Lou Reed Memorial Show...And A Few Words About Lou

In some ways, the point of this post is moot, the point being to promote a "RADIO NAPALM" podcast that's already well on its way to being the most listened to in the new series. It's already a success, despite the damned thing being hastily assembled in the event of Lou Reed's death Sunday, October 27th, 2013 from complications due to liver disease. That haste means I'm not entirely sure the show's worthy of the audience. Certainly, it marks an occasion where the show for once is not a raving celebration of the punk rock spirit and vintage rock 'n' roll radio it usually is. And how could it be? Lou Reed is fucking dead.

Writing those words don't set well with me. Lou was a prickly bastard, for sure, one who communicated best through his songs, even as he oft times seemed to use his solo career to alienate anyone whose life was saved by the rock 'n' roll he created in The Velvet Underground, and used his own public persona to keep everyone away. I'm personally one who felt he made more lousy albums than good. Transformer is the most obvious example of solo Lou at his best. Berlin. Metal Machine Music is a perverse pleasure. But he mostly seemed to take a perverse delight in holding a middle finger up to the world. Lou also was the sort of artist who really needed a good editor. He had that in John Cale, and in David Bowie and Mick Ronson on Transformer. Left to his own devices, he could not tell his own shit from his diamonds. I mean, really: Did Lou Reed really think collaborating with Metallica was a good idea?

Yet, why is it I feel like Elvis just died? 

I don't think it's so much to do with that now-clicheed Brian Eno quote always trotted out in any discussion of the Velvet Underground, about the influence they had being so insanely out of proportion with their pisspoor record sales. I think what really says a lot about Lou's - and the Velvets' - impact is that in the 48 hours since his death, he has inspired so many great writers to write even more brilliantly. These eulogies are instant classics, sure to take pride of place in future anthologies.

This is because, ultimately, Lou Reed was a great writer himself.

Yes, he inspired everyone who heard his records to become a junkie faggot from New York City in a black leather jacket, solid black clothing, and ever-present sunglasses. Yes, he played some of the sickest rock 'n' roll lead guitar ever. Yes, he was a great singer who could not sing, had a limited range, and sounded flat to the rest of the world while sounding like Edith Piaf to all us faux NYC junkie faggots who heard him. But the key to Lou Reed was he was ultimately Raymond Chandler with a rock 'n' roll heart.

Like Buddy Holly, Lou Reed preferred simplicity. He wrote symphonies out of three chords at most. Even as he blew crazed free jazz skronk guitar all over his records, he relied on the simplistic grooves of Moe Tucker's drums and John Cale's three-note bass. And he didn't write lyrics - he wrote stories. Highly literary, poetic stories full of urban gutter journalism, subject matter that was acceptable in novels and movies but is still frowned on in rock 'n' roll or pop music. He wrote of kicks and bad drugs and transvestites and squalor and kinky sex and general bad craziness, in simple, hard-boiled language that was direct and honest. It wasn't celebrating these things. It was simply telling it like it is.

He also had a vulnerability, a gentle side that he was not afraid to flash, at least in song. Ferchissakes, one of the best Velvet Underground songs, a B-side called "Jesus," was an honest-to-God hymn. I now wish I'd included it in this show. But there's a lot I left out. This show could have gone on for hours. There was that much great stuff in Lou's canon, despite that pisspoor overall batting average on good releases versus howling dogs.

Personally, I didn't get it at first. As a 14-year-old Sex Pistols/punk rock besotted youth, I came to Lou at first via Rock 'n' Roll Animal. I kept reading about Lou and the Velvet Underground in every magazine I picked up. Rock 'n' Roll Animal was availble in the five buck bin in the local Krogers record department, and I took a chance. I hated it on first listen, and still do. What's with this heavy metal record with the dirty lyrics? It took hearing Ronnie Bonds spin the Velvets' original of "Rock And Roll" on his old Funhouse show on KPFT in Houston to understand: Lou Reed songs make great rock 'n' roll, not great heavy metal. These are different musics, no matter what you may think. This is why that Metallica team-up still is a head-scratcher....

But looking over my own songs I've written? I've said for years I learned all I know about writing songs from Phil Spector. I still stand behind it, but I can see there's as much Lou Reed there as Phil. There are times I've forgotten some of those lessons, but that's par for the course with growing artistically. But having a good groove, a solid-but-simple riff, some vicious guitar, a lyric that tells a tough truth in simple-but-beautiful language? That's all Lou Reed, through-and-through.

And now Lou Reed's dead, after a lifetime making me hate him more than love him, but loving what I love to the point of obsession. And all I can offer is this half-assed RADIO SHOW?! This just proves I can never hope to repay my debt to the man....

Yet, you guys are loving this, anyway. Despite there being no comedy, no screaming, no echo, no Ed The Engineer or Scooter, and me sounding as morose, stammering, and amaturish as I've ever sounded, you guys are loving this show. Because it's all about Lou Reed: Some early songs, a lot of Velvet Underground, some solo work, and a few musical tributes from those who got it. I have to thank you for that.

R.I.P., Lou. Rest In Peace.

Playlist:
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - What Goes On
THE BEACHNUTS - Cycle Annie
THE PRIMITIVES - The Ostrich
THE JADES - So Blue (first record, 1957)
THE ALL-NIGHT WORKERS - Why Don't You Smile Now
DIDJITS - Lou Reed (Full Nelson Reilly, 1991)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Sunday Morning (mono 45)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Run Run Run (acetate, different mix)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - I'm Waiting For My Man (mono LP mix)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Femme Fatale (mono 45)
ADAM AND THE ANTS - Lou (Peel Session, 1978)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - White Light, White Heat
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND  - Sister Ray
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND  - Guess I'm Falling In Love (Workout At The Gymnasium bootleg)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Beginning To See The Light 
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Pale Blue Eyes
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Temptation Inside Your Heart
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND -  I Can't Stand It
DAVID BOWIE - White Light, White Heat
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND -  Sweet Jane
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Rock And Roll
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND - Oh! Sweet Nuthin'
LOU REED - Vicious
LOU REED - Walk On The Wild
THE DREAM SYNDICATE - Tell Me When It's Over
JONATHAN RICHMAN - Velvet Underground

"RADIO NAPALM'" Special Lou Reed Memorial Show by "Radio Napalm" W/Tim Napalm on Mixcloud

"RADIO NAPALM" podcast # 13: PAT FEAR ROCKS!!

"PAT FEAR ROCKS!!" That's what it said on the side of his Flying V. And White Flag mastermind and daredevil punk rock prankster Bill "Pat Fear" Bartell is no longer with us - died in his sleep last Monday, following years of health problems. I knew Bill, but not well - we were both ex-fLiPSiDers, for one. So, of course, I had to at least play four White Flag hits and read a poem Tony of The Adolescents composed, memorializing the friend he knew well.

Among other highlights:

• Scooter gets a bigger vocabulary!
• We play more of your requests!
• Classics from THE LOOTERS (aka that Sex Pistols/Clash band from Ladies And Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains), THE CRAMPS, BLACK FLAG, and WIRE!
• New noise from OFF!, THE STRYPES, BULLET PROOF HEARTS, and more!

It's all NAPALMTASTIC! Now click and play!

"RADIO NAPALM" # 13 9-29-13: PAT FEAR ROCKS! (R.I.P.) by "Radio Napalm" W/Tim Napalm on Mixcloud

Now, here's the playlist:

THE LOOTERS - Conned Again (1980, unreleased Pistols/Clash hybrid, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FABULOUS STAINS)
ZAKARY THAKS - Face To Face (1967 Corpus Christi garage punk)
THE CRAMPS - Domino (1979)
PINK FAIRIES - City Kids (UK, 1973)
WIRE - I Am The Fly (requested by Rob Cooley, Georgetown, TX, and Jennifer Kerr, Chewelah, Washington)
BLACK FLAG - I've Had It (requested by Sam Rogers, NYC)
THE SCIENTISTS - Last Night (Goose [the Great Dismal Swamis, ex- Phantom Creeps], Friedricksburg, VA)
RUBBER CITY REBELS - "Rubber City Rebels" from the split with the Bizarros (Brian Schickling , Long Beach )
OFF! - What's Next? (Grand Theft Auto V, 2013)
THE STRYPES - Blue Collar Jane (recent single)
10 CENT FUCK FLICKS - Womanaire (Queens sleaze punk on Drug Front Records)
BULLET PROOF HEARTS - American Custom (Omaha punk rock 2013)
PLOWBOY SPOTLIGHT: BOBBY BARE JR. - Make The World Go Away (You Don't Know Me: Rediscovering Eddy Arnold)
WHITE FLAG - Shattered Badge (1984, Mystic Records COPULATION LP)
WHITE FLAG - Suicide King (Wild Kingdom, 1987)
WHITE FLAG - Instant Breakfast (Wild Kingdom, 1987)
WHITE FLAG - I'm Down (Jail Jello split w/Necros, 1986)

How The Cruz Stole Christmas

I do not like Ted Cruz.

I do not like Ted Cruz on trains. I do not like Ted Cruz on planes.

I do not like Ted Cruz when he blatantly, egotistically ignores his own party's pleas to go forward with his grandstanding plan to filibuster Obamacare out of funding, and selfishly shut down the government in the process.

I do not like Ted Cruz when he hijacks one of my favorite children's stories in the process:

I do not like Ted Cruz when he claims on his Twitter page that he is "representing the State Of Texas in the United States Senate," when he doesn't represent me or anyone I know, and is in fact wasting tax dollars reading Dr. Seuss aloud. Which would seem to be counter to his being one of those "not with mah money" Tea Baggers.

I do not like Ted Cruz when he is actually a Canadian citizen beloved of the same hydrocephaloids still clinging to the disproven notion that our President is Kenyan.

I do not like Ted Cruz when he is loudly attempting to derail Obamacare at the moment a friend - White Flag guitarist Bill "Pat Fear" Bartell - was dying from complications that likely could have been helped had he had affordable health care. Knowing Bill, even as little as I did, I'm pretty sure that, had he been aware, he'd have put off his demise to scream at Ted Cruz himself, good progressive that Bill was. R.I.P., Bill.

In fact, I'd rather listen to White Flag right now than to the hot air machine I've spent this post complaining about, so far. Unlike Ted Cruz, Bill Bartell was brilliant and upbeat and positive. He was a prankster of the first order and a genius of joyful chaos. My experiences around him were few, but always fantastic. Bill Bartell's impact on this universe is far more worthy than Ted Cruz' will ever be. You just have to hear how this rocks to understand:

By the way, in looking at the stats for my blog, I see one person came to it from doing a Google search on the term "joe strummer was an idiot." No, Joe was fine. It's you who is idiotic. Please don't ever read my blog again. You're as big an asshole as Ted Cruz. Fuck you.

And thanks to the 274 of you who read yesterday's post the last 24 hours. Y'all should be alerted to the existence of another $375 "punk" jacket out there. Only it's nowhere near as authentic as Urban Outfitters', as crappy as that is....

ADDENDUM, 11:21 AM: The Talking Points Memo just reminded us all what my emotions prevented me even from seeing in the clip I posted above - Cruz' grandstanding is not a filibuster at all, just him masturbating publicly on the tax payers' dime. Frankly, I'd rather see Daphne Rosen doing that - Ted Cruz just is not sexy....

That $375.00 "Punk" Jacket

First of all, let me just say...THIS IS AWESOME!

This is HILARIOUS!

And a whole bunch of people ARE NOT GETTING IT!

Yesterday - certainly with help from me - this particular item went viral on Facebook: A shabbily-rendered old "punk" leather jacket, selling for $375 at Urban Outfitters in the vintage area. It went viral for good reason: It is so hilariously wrong on so many levels.

As usual, a lot of people got upset. As usual, it was wrong-headed. For one thing, I get the feeling some of those people thought this was some mass-produced high-fashion item, sold in large quantities at a premium price as "authentic" when it's off the production line and off the rack.

No, guys, you missed it: It says "vintage." It's in Urban Outfitter's vintage department. Which means one of their buyers found this piece of crap in a Goodwill, probably for $4.00, and is selling it like it was the latest Yves St. Laurent gown. Because it's so "authentic."

I remember a lot of woefully executed garments like this back when. This was part and parcel of D.I.Y. punk rock culture: The results could be especially ugly, in a culture that embraced a sort of institutionalized ugliness. This wasn't merely graphically rough-edged, though: It's wrong. On every level.

First, it's not a proper motorcycle jacket, ala The Ramones or Sid. This appears to be some '80s Members Only jacket. And not even a real one - probably a Sears or JC Penneys knockoff.

Then comes the decoration. Dude must have used 50 bottles of Liquid Paper on the back of this already shabby jacket. Then he clearly drew the logos in ballpoint pen (or biro, for my British readers), or at most a Sharpie. He had not heard about spray paint and cardboard stencils.

I'm pretty sure next time the jacket's original owner showed up in the pit at his local slam-a-torium, that jacket got him laughed right out of that pit. Every girl he approached surely shut him down too: "*pffft!* I wouldn't fuck ANYONE dressed in THAT! Are you serious?!"

Surely, this sad garment likely lasted one or two gigs before its owner tired of being the laughing stock of the scene. Back in the closet it went, likely not even replaced with something more proper. Eventually, the owner studied to be an accountant in college, bought Pearl Jam's Ten when it came out, graduated, got married, and voted for George W. Bush. Both times.

The wife decided to clean out the closet recently, and came upon The Jacket.

"Oh, my GAWD!" she screamed, before laughing uncontrollably. "Honey, what in the HECK is THIS?!"

She shows it to The Dude, probably cleaning the gutters in their safe suburban tract home.

He glances, blushes in embarrassment. "Oh, that?! Heh heh! Yeah, that was back when I was young and crazy...."

So, it was boxed up, along with the old tennis rackets and aluminum cookware and some Polos that no longer fit him, and it was off to the Goodwill donation center.

At some point, an Urban Outfitters buyer is scouring the stacks at this particular Goodwill...and there it is.

"Oh, GOODNESS! What a FIND! A remarkable piece of AUTHENTIC PUNK ROCK! We MUST have this! We could make SO MUCH MONEY off this!"

And here it is. Some asshole fashionista will soon purchase it, because $375 plus postage and handling is just burning a hole in his credit card. And he will be the center of attention at the club that night, all the other hipsters wondering where they can get a piece of shit like that.

While the rest of us laugh.

And for the person who remarked on one of the threads that this was "bastardizing the punk and metal scenes?" Guess you didn't see this. It's also $375....

The annual birthday stock-taking

No, it's not my birthday. That was the 12th.  This is just the first chance I got.

Normally, I take my birthday to take stock of the past year, and to count my blessings. It's kinda my New Year's ritual - I just do it when my New Year begins....

Is this why I keep hearing I'm narcissistic, self-aggrandizing, and a pompous, egotistical prick?

I've gotten that a lot over the years, and been getting it a lot lately. Mostly from people pissed off at me, because I had to put them in their place. Thing is: Yes, I have an ego. Yes, I am narcissistic. I'm a performer and a public figure, even if my public is small. Still, this is how you play to the back row. As I told an ex-, "If you don't want to deal with narcissists, stop dating musicians!" (Or writers, or whatever artistic or creative types.)

I have to tune out this noise, which is perpetual. It's someone else trying to chip their way into my head and make me insecure and self-conscious, and I've got too much going on for that.

Which is the difference between a year ago and now: I've got too much going on.

At this point last year, I had just quit a band I didn't feel was working for me, was kicked out of a house I was living in after a month, was living in a motel room I could ill afford, and was scraping by working day labor - the only work I could find in Denver.

Not long after that, I was ready to put a bullet in my head. Literally. The situation felt hopeless.

It had been 15 years since I'd burned out on and walked away from my chosen profession, rock journalism. And try as I could, I could not find a new way to live and support myself. Nor could I find a town I could settle and fit into.

I was desperate. And none of this is an exaggeration.

Come mid-October, I reached out to my uncle and asked if he could help me get to Austin. 30 hours before I left Denver, I announced on Facebook I was homeless and at the end of my rope in Denver and needed to come home. In short order, the old community stepped in.

I came to Austin with a temporary place to stay and folks willingly loaning me living expenses for a few weeks. Come November, I moved into a situation similar to what I had in 1991, with the same landlord, and paying rent I could afford. Soon, I had a temporary job.

Then The Austin Chronicle reached out to me and asked me to come back.

And now? I am exactly as I was when I was young and thriving: I make my living writing for the Chron and a few other magazines and websites as a freelancer, and also earn a small salary to produce "RADIO NAPALM" as a weekly show now. I'm not rich, but I'm supporting myself and my art, as I did in the '90s. And I bought an amp on layaway and have assembled a new lineup of The Hormones. We are rehearsing, and will become public in December.

I may be abrasive when called upon or pushed, and I may have an ego. But no, I'm humbled and I'm grateful. Austin, you love to bag on yourself for the way you're changing. But you gave me my life back. And that's a gift I cherish. Thank you.