buckminster fuller ≥ william borroughs ≥ frank zappa ≥ michael x.
or is it william borroughs ≥ frank zappa ≥ buckminster fuller ≥ michael x.?
buckminster fuller ≥ william borroughs ≥ frank zappa ≥ michael x.
or is it william borroughs ≥ frank zappa ≥ buckminster fuller ≥ michael x.?
neon park, who had the excellent idea of putting a flesh-ripping weasel on the cover of frank zappa & the mothers of invention’s weasels ripped my flesh (and, better yet, a swinging cake and smiling tomato on the cover of two wonderful little feat albums), titled this poster—for a taj mahal concert in a san francisco ballroom—peyote bird.
i hope a real life bird eats peyote one day and designs a neon park at the taj mahal.
what the video for summertime clothes really needs is a nice orange elephant who exhales clouds, or pink elephants who hang with blue rhinos and giraffes, or a nice little doll (above) whose eyes emit neon-colored electromagnetic funk waves of goodness and glory. and i’m just riffing here, but remember when the houston rockets’ billionaire vegetarian owner dressed up his cheerleaders in outfits that said ‘animals have rights’? it would be neat if the video featured those gals doing synchronized dance moves with the elephants and eye-wave dolls.
in this weekend’s times, ben ratliff called grizzly bear “extremely cold,” “oppressively ascetic,” “frozen,” “murky,” and “precious,” either because ben ratliff has bad taste in music, or because he likes getting in strong jacuzzis and complaining that the boiling water isn’t warm enough. anyone who watches two weeks’ red balloon video and doesn’t cry (like ben ratliff or, worse, my good friend and colleague leon n.) has no feelings.
they might be giants, april 24th, 1990, $13, minneapolis’ downtown danceteria
it’s easy to adore adorable bands, and it’s easy to loathe adorable bands, but it’s not easy to loathe adorable posters for adorable bands.
the sad thing about the silver jews breaking up is that there won’t be a band named the silver jews anymore. the really sad thing is there won’t be any more bands whose frontman writes poems with lines like, “as a way of getting in touch with my origins every night i set the alarm clock for the time i was born.”
the flaming lips have better posters than any group ever except the communists.
how can looking at concert posters online all day be bad if it feels so terribly good?
there’s a scene in shoot the piano player where carles aznavour does an anxious countdown with his fingers behind his back (while he’s walking a lady home) that will make anyone with a fifth of a heart scream or shake or possibly vomit with joy. there’s an even better scene where he says to himself: “think of something else. is art tatum talented?”
this isn’t as nice as the posters for you’re the one for me, fatty or meat is murder, but it’s pretty okay. just joshing, it’s awesome. it’s a picture of truman capote in midair for christ’s fucking sake.
the only thing better than a smiths album is a smiths album cover, and the only thing better than a smiths album cover is a promotional poster for a smiths album (even if in the course of that album’s promotion morrissey laid down the famous zinger, “one can have great concern for the people of ethiopia but it’s another thing to inflict daily torture on the people of england.”)