Alice Bag. What real punk looked and twitched like.
This morning, on our walk, we passed a pile of Michelob Light empties (bottles, not cans) and then an athletic cup on someone's lawn. I fear they were related in a previous nights event. A party gone wrong. Or right. Who am I to judge that level of shenanigan? It was right by that Louis Sullivan-designed church in Ukrainian Village. In August, on an afternoon walk, baby Jude and I stopped for a minute as two young men pulled up in a car, which was driven by an associate, who left it idling at the curb while the older instructed the younger on some low level Parkour moves over the church fence. It didn't seem like Parkour, it was just jumping over a low wall and landing in the daylilies. I know this because I saw a video on YouTube of a dog doing Parkour, jumping out windows and floating up walls like it was on an invisible skateboard. Kids better up their ante if a Russian internet dog is besting them at their sport. And who was the driver? A roommate? Their manager? A dude they pay in Dew Red Alert and pinners? "Just drive around until you see a wall worth jumping over, k?"
My Fan Landers column is now syndicated. Check for it in the LA Weekly and whatever other Village Voice Media chain papers you peep.
Today I went and interviewed Kendrick Lamar. It was unlike all other experiences in the rapper personal vortex in that he was forthcoming and the interview started exactly on time. Not even a minute late. His bus, like all tour busses, was cold enough that they could keep a side of beef in the bunks and it wouldn't spoil for the duration of his US tour.
This very long Cat Power review is the best thing I have written in a while I think. That record made it easy though. "Manhattan" which is not a single, is my single of the year. "Hot Chee-Tos and Takis" running a close second.
Are you guys watching The Voice? It hasn't gotten totally musical schaudenfreude (sp?) musical meltdown yet, it's just in the auditions phase, which is totally high drama and lasting forever, but there are some people I am rooting for like the gender queer girl from Chicago, De'Borah and the kid that came out of a coma in time for the auditions. TELEVISION! And you thought THE WIRE was dramatic! Pssh. Anyhow, I am recapping it for Rolling Stone, which is kind of a bizarre-world dream gig. I get paid to write about the best-worst-best-again show on TV, which I already was watching, and by write about I mean mostly make fun of.
SYNDICATED ADVICE COLUMNIST/TEEVEE RECAPPER FOR RS. Not places you thought my career would go post-90's punk fanzine ghetto, did you? Also, I started writing for Pitchfork--like this one of Corin Tucker Band's Kill My Blues which kept making me want to type "Corin Tucker Blues Band", which would be kinda killer.
New leaves in 2012, y'alls.
You know what is remarkable? That President Obama issued an official statement on Donna Summer's death. "Her voice was unforgettable, and the music industry has lost a legend far too soon." There's no way Mittens is gonna win, right? I mean, America is a deeply fucked up and racist land, wrapped up in some rough endtimes capitalist lust, but we are not so messed up that people are going to vote for Mittens. Right, guys?
Posted by jessica hopper at September 23, 2012 09:12 PM | TrackBack