though I love you unclean

From the January-February 1988 issue of Nintendo Power comes this token effort toward music journalism...

(Click to be like Wham! and MAKE IT BIG!)
It's written in the same hyperbolic hard-sell tone employed by the periodical to foist such quality gamepaks such as Ghost Lion and the California Raisins game onto the impressionable youth of late 1980's America, which is quite disconcerting considering the choice of artists featured. Of the three, only Debbie Gibson was an actual chart success at the time (though I still am unable to understand how that came to be). Huey Lewis and the News had already taken the first steps on the road to state fair appearances, and Julian Lennon, living proof that talent (unlike appearance) can't be genetically transmitted, had already basked in his necrotic fifteen minutes of public fascination a few years prior.

I assume the decision on which artists to spotlight came down to least offensive denominator, so as not to scare off the parents who actually paid for the games pimped in the pages of Nintendo Power, hence no South of Heaven or Locust Abortion Technician. I can understand that line of reasoning, but there must have been other acts able to meet Nintendo's vetting process, ones with proven tweener appeal and whose hypetastic "Sound Waves" blurb didn't require committing "...and clearly shows he is following in the footsteps of his talented father (late Beatle John Lennon)" to immortality via the printed page.

Or involve Huey Lewis at all

It's not like I would have noticed, anyhow. The period from roughly 1985 to 1989 was something of a pop interregnum for me, a time when I effectively unplugged myself from the contemporary music grid. My burgeoning appreciation for 60's pop, rock, and especially soul music, combined with the death of V-66, a local music video station and my main means of keeping up with music trends, worked to suspend my interest in anything recorded after 1972.

I apparently didn't miss much, either:

Granted, the pop charts are inherently weighted toward the crap end of the spectrum, and show only the narrowest view into an given era's musical legacy. There was plenty of outstanding stuff released during those years, but even if I wasn't bopping to the backbeat of some mid-60's Stax recording, the chances I'd have discovered gems like XTC's Oranges and Lemons or New Order's Technique or Billy Bragg's Worker's Playtime on my own back then were pretty much nil.

My peers at the time were either budding juvenile delinquents or (worse) Dungeons & Dragons enthusiasts. The musical tastes of both groups ran the wide gamut from hard rock to heavy metal, and took every iota of willpower I possessed to resist indoctrination. Seriously, I was this close to thinking that Rush was a brilliant band before I managed to pull myself back from the all-consuming abyss. The handful of kids in Woburn who were hep to what was then called the "college rock" scene didn't run in the same circles as I did, and, truth be told, they also tended to be pricks and not really the type of folks I'd take listening advice from.

It wasn't until I got into punk (by way of thrash metal) that I again started listening to music that wasn't recorded before I was born. The ready availability of cheap used vinyl made it easy to play catch up and discover most of what I missed out on the first time around (and then some) and take chances on things that I'd have otherwise passed up on checking out. I don't regret the hiccup in development of my musical tastes at all. If anything, I appreciate the advantage in approaching commonly known material as a outsider has conferred on several occasions. Nostalgia's lens flare tends to throw off one's ability to focus properly.

For the musical portion of today's program, here are three tracks released in 1988-89 from bands that did not earn a blurb in Nintendo Power, but have earned my (belated) Seal of Approval:

Babes in Toyland - He's My Thing (from Spanking Machine, 1989) - If Siouxsie Sioux fronted the Cramps...

My Bloody Valentine - (When You Wake) You're Still In A Dream (from Isn't Anything, 1988) - Spike-heeled shoegaze.

Orchids - If You Can't Find Love (from Lyceum, 1989) - Live twee or cry.

we all want to change the world

A post situ analysis of a social revolution in microcosm, as depicted in Date With Debbi #2 (March-April 1969):

Buddy Baxter, a representative of the existing social order, arrives at the Anderson household in order to seal a lopsided transaction of goods for services --in this case, a cheap bouquet of flowers in exchange for "getting some":


Debbi Anderson, having recently experienced an egalitarian epiphany, expresses her disgust for the traditional arrangement and desires one based on the mutual consent of equal parties. Buddy responds to her demands with a condescending tone intended to obstruct the paradigm shift by belittling its demands.


Realizing that Buddy has no intention of addressing her demands in a fair and open manner, ejects him from the house. She then tries to expand the scope of the revolution by approaching other affected members of the immediate community...


...but comes up against the ingrained false consciousness of the proletariat as well as opposition from those who benefit from the system as it presently exists, leading to violent direct action.


However, before the movement is able to gestate into a full-on insurrection, Debbi finds herself distracted by what Lenin deemed a momentary interest...


...in which the proletariat's immediate petty obsessions causes it to lose sight of its historical mission. Abandoning long-term objectives for short-term gain, Debbi re-enters negotiations with Buddy...


...who takes advantage of situtation and uses the collapse of the revolutionary opposition to dictate terms from a position of strength. He is thus not only able to restore the previous status quo...


...but also to force counter-revolutionary concessions in accordance with his own reactionary agenda.

(Eighteenth Century Guide to Modern Women, eh? I guess that explains this very out-of-context panel from Date With Debbi #3. It's okay. She walked into a door. Honest.)
Talulah Gosh - My Boy Says (from the 1988 "Testcard Girl" 12"; collected on Backwash, 1996) - But does he mean it?

Erasure - Chains of Love (from The Innocents, 1988) - Forget "The Internationale." When the revolution comes, I want it to be set to dance beats.

seasonal holiday digression

Today is Thanksgiving. For our readers not blessed with the good fortune of residing in the World's Only Superpower^TM, the holiday commemorates how my Calvinist ancestors managed to survive an entire year in this forsaken part of the globe (through the aid of the native inhabitants of the Massachusetts Bay area), thus cementing their toehold in the New World (so that they could begin the important work of exterminating those who had helped them in their time of need).

Thanksgiving also serves an important role as a dress rehearsal for the tragicomic improv revue that is Christmas, allowing all the principle players to hone their characterizations and determine which grudges, resentments, or other issues they wish to bring to the main event. The venom of familial discord, like fine liquor (which also plays an important role in the process), grows more potent with the passing of time, and a month of ruminations over "what exactly did he mean by that?" can make all the difference between an awkward moment and a full-on, no holds barred scene occurring over the communal dining table.

Being an unapologetic social terrapin myself, I plan to do what I usually do every holiday that involves family gatherings -- drop the wife off so that she can celebrate with her boisterous Hibernian clan, then return home and spend the day in blessed solitude. I most likely will go over the Woburn Highlands and through the city center to my grandmother's house, though, for a short visit. Doing the Right Thing must needs trump my asocial tendencies, after all. I just have to remember to time the trip correctly so as to avoid the traffic nightmare generated by the annual class war by pigskin proxy otherwise known as the Woburn-Winchester game. (As a side note, the Woburn High athletic teams are called the Tanners, a historical nod to the leather industry whose environmental effects are still, despite head-in-the-sand boosterism, still being dealt with to this day.)

After those obligations are taken care of, it's a simple matter of squandering the empty minutes until Maura returns home with a plate of leftovers for me to pick over. (Maybe I'll finally commit to my plan of watching Armored Trooper VOTOMS in its entirety, or perhaps I'll queue up some choice episodes of MST3K in honor of Turkey Days past -- I tend to be more excited about the concept of unobligated time than the use I put it towards.) Then, as our customary coda for the holiday, the wife and I will pop Blast from the Past into the DVD player (a tradition started by Maura; I've long given up trying to make sense of these things), and let the soothing power of swing revival-themed romantic comedy lull us to sleep.

Not a bad way to spend the holiday, actually, and infinitely preferable to this...

Oh my. This isn't going to end well at all. (As if one needed yet another reason to fear legumes...)

The Neighborhoods - No Place Like Home (from a 1980 single; collected on D.I.Y. - Mass Ave - The Boston Scene: 1975-83, 1993) - Fulfilling all your provinicial power pop needs on this New Anglocentric holiday.

Camera Obscura - I Don't Do Crowds (from Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi, 2001) - Not if I can avoid it, and I'm as skilled in avoidance as these Glaswegian indie poppers are at crafting lovely twee-ish pop songs.

What "Age of Innocence?"

(with apologies to Edith Wharton)

Armagideon Time, in conjunction with Fawcett Publications, is proud to present this very special episode of Captain Marvel....

It's the combination of the doctor's cherubic face and pencil-thin moustache that adds that extra level of creepiness, don't you think?

You know that thought-provoking but contextually inaccurate line about how the Roman Empire had all the available technology to create a steam locomotive/microwave oven/"slammable" form of yogurt, but never managed to put the pieces together? This panel occupies a similar position in regards to erotic fanfic/slashfic. All that was lacking was some sort of system of electronic tubes by which some inspired fan could unleash his or her Billy Batson/Doctor Livingstone masterpiece upon an unsuspecting world.

DISCLAIMER: For the purposes of this story, the "Billy" character is a consenting adult who has been magically de-aged, because the author wishes to have his/her creepy fantasies while keeping things legal and aboveboard, ok?

(Yes, I really can't stand fanfic culture, if you haven't guessed that already.)

Of course, one doesn't have to resort to facile, lowest common denominator NAMBLA jokes. One could always choose to take a darker route:

Oh, Billy, didn't you pay attention to those movies they showed you in gym class at all? Maybe Kid Eternity should have conjured up the shade of Guy de Maupassant as a cautionary example.

The Pogues - Billy's Bones (from Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash, 1985) - An excellent way to start today's musical selections on a good note. RS&L is the definitive Pogues album for a lot of folks, running neck and neck with If I Should Fall from Grace with God, but I personally prefer the less polished sound of Red Roses for Me.

Anorak Girl - Billie's Joined the Fanclub (from a 1997 single) - It could have been worse, Bille could have become a regular commenter on the Newsarama boards or *shudder* the Yahoo forums.

Carter USM - Billy's Smart Circus (from 30 Something, 1991) - It has been my (admittedly limited) experience that a "smart circus" is one that you are lucky enough to avoid attending.

Bo Donaldson & The Heywoods - Billy, Don't Be a Hero (from AM Gold: 1974, 1996) - Paper Lace's version of this song hit the top of the UK charts at nearly the same as this version hit the top of the US charts -- a historical curiosity spawned by the draconian trade restrictions on bubblegum and sunshine pop music in place at that time. Fortunately the barriers were rolled back in time for American audiences to experience Paper Lace's magnum opus "The Night Chicago Died."

arf arf effing arf

What’s that, Addy-girl? Andrew is buried under a bunch of household chores, made more time-consuming than usual by an unexpected trip to Medford? And as much as he’d have liked to have put up one of the long form essays he had planned for today, he had to cop out and opt for a really lame gimmick post?

Wow, Addy, that sounds…

The Primitives - Really Stupid (from a 1986 single, collected on Thru the Flowers: The Anthology, 2004) – Breezy, cutesy indie pop that I love just fine in small doses. More than two or three tracks at a time though and the sweetness gets unbearable.

like a dancing flame on a bed of nails

There is something fascinating about Debbi Anderson, the mercurial teenage star of two teen comedy (aka “Archie clone”) titles, Date With Debbi and Debbi’s Dates, published by DC in the late 60’s/early 70’s. The character reminds me of my wife for some reason I just can’t put my finger on. There’s a superficial physical resemblance – short hair, freckles, the shape of the lips – although my wife’s hair is dark brown with chestnut highlights, not red, and she eschews flares and fringe in favor of jeans and punk rock/roller derby t-shirts.

Nah, it’s something else…

…like a short temper and propensity toward impulsive violence! That’s what it is!

I’m kidding (sort of). My wife is a very sweet, loving person who reserves her ample stores of ire for people and things that deserve it. As long as I’m not on the receiving end, it’s rather nice to be partnered with a ferocious angel of vengeance. Who says road rage can’t be a couples’ activity? (It’s safer, too, because I don’t need to take my hands off the wheel to flip asshole drivers off anymore. The lady has it covered.)

It can get a little terrifying on occasion, like when she threw a bowl out a second story window because it fell off the shelf “one too many times,” but it keeps domestic life interesting, to say the least.

The Pop Group – She Is Beyond Good and Evil (from Y, 1979) – Like an elemental force that cannot be constrained, only borne witness to… Wait; am I talking about this song or my wife’s temper?

Talulah Gosh – Break Your Face (from Backwash, 1996) – There is more sweet, melodic pop crammed into this one minute and fifteen seconds than in the entire discographies of lesser bands.

The Yachts – Look Back in Love (Not in Anger) (from The Yachts, 1979) – Not to be confused with “Yacht Rock,” this is a very retro-sounding slice (love those organ riffs!) of early British new wave.

Brigitte Handley – Mad at You (from Stand Your Ground, 2002) – As opposed to “Mad About You,” where a post-Go-Go’s Belinda Carlisle cavorts about the house in a man’s shirt while singing about her undying love for Paul Reiser. (As I get older, I find my brain compresses the less important memories together to free up storage space.)