By Less Lee Moore
Years and years ago, a friend made a mix tape of old records she’d scrounged up from another friend’s grandmother. These were all pieces in the style of what was once called “Easy Listening” or “Elevator Music,” i.e., orchestral, instrumental versions of popular songs. The Muzak Corporation began producing music of this type in the 1930s.
Continue reading ‘The Forgotten Music’
By Hanna
The 60s British TV series Adam Adamant Lives! is now mainly remembered for being the inspiration behind Adam Ant’s stage name. Although he says nothing about this in his auto-bio Stand and Deliver, he does talk a lot about how much he loved television as a child growing up in the 60s.
Continue reading ‘Adam Adamant LIVES!’
By Michelle Patterson
Squealing at the top of our lungs, we sprinted to our softball coach’s station wagon, desperate for cover from the pouring rain. All of us wiped down our dirt-streaked legs with the towels meant for cleaning out the bottoms of our cleats and seriously mulled over what type of Bubble-Yum to have on the way home. As we chomped down hard in frustration at not getting to play a game, and popped piercingly loud bubbles, coach gave us a glare. He clicked on the radio to drown out our sullen chews. A gospel-tinged, country-flavored song with a soaring guitar line in the background roared to life. All the other girls in the car immediately started singing along. It didn’t take long until I figured out the simple loop and repeat of the lyrics, so I was screaming with them in no time. It was a thrill; I felt like I belonged and was a real part of something. And now we were singing, howling together with the ridiculous passion usually reserved for cheers of victory after winning a game or stealing second base. This “Purple Rain” song was painting real grins of satisfaction on our faces.
Continue reading ‘Prince and The Revolution, Purple Rain‘
By Jemiah Jefferson
It was with great sadness that I read about the passing of Rudy Ray Moore, one of the most influential, offensive, brilliant cultural voices of the 20th century. I don’t believe that I exaggerate when I say that. His uniquely out-there perspectives, voice, and performance can be heard imitated and sampled in countless examples from hip-hop and Tarantino; his films are classics of the “completely ridiculous, hilarious, independent cult curiosity” genre. The term “blaxploitation” is a catch-all for movies and culture with a lot of black people acting the fool, shooting folks, acting violent and crazy, dressing loudly, pimping, revenging; the films of Rudy Ray Moore transcend and encapsulate everything about them, but in a way that no one else dares to do. I’ve got a special place in my heart for RRM, if for nothing else than because he is the centerpiece of one of the few films that I just couldn’t get through on the first try. That film was Dolemite.
Continue reading ‘Rest In Peace: Rudy Ray Moore’
By Michelle Patterson
La belle et la bête, 1946
I had what I thought to be the perfect metaphor for this article series. It started out well enough and soon became an epic flowchart in the grand tradition of Barney Stinson (Neil Patrick Harris on How I Met Your Mother), complete with elaborate examples and explanations, some even color-coded, and most of them flimsy enough to fall apart upon closer examination. Then, it started to become creepier and more in poor taste. It just made me too uncomfortable to continue. Finally the thought hit me that the exercise itself—trying to find the ultimate way to explain just why and how remakes are usually not a good idea at all and leave you feeling devastated and empty—had actually turned into the real metaphor I was looking for. This was followed by the realization that the explanation of the explanation had become just what I needed: a way to prove why remakes are mostly bad, sometimes good, but usually ugly. I’ll start and maybe you’ll understand what I mean.
Continue reading ‘The Good, The Bad, The Ugly: Film Remakes, Part One’
[This piece was originally published in Smack Dab Fanzine #4, September 1995. With the exception of typos I may have corrected, all of the original text and formatting remain the same. I have also scanned the original artwork.—Ed.]
Everyone whether they like it or not, remembers Rick Springfield. After all, he was a teen idol: musician, soap opera heartthrob and movie star.
Continue reading ‘Rick Springfield’
By Kristin Messina, Mandy Mullins, and Jaime Sparrowhawk
Fresh from their stint at Will’s Pub with Quintron in Orlando, Florida, the three sassy lasses from Garbo’s Daughter share ten tantalizing tales of celebrities who were famous before they were famous. Read on and you’ll see what we mean.
Continue reading ‘Before They Were Famous: Top Ten Artists Formerly Known As. . .’
By Danny R. Phillips
Authors’ Note: This piece of fiction is based on a dream I had and is a product of my twisted imagination. Feel free to email me with thoughts relating to this or any of my other work but please, do not state the obvious. I know Hunter Thompson is dead and therefore he is extremely difficult to reach for comment.
On February 20, 2005 the great Doctor of Gonzo journalism, Hunter Stockton Thompson spent the day with his son Juan and his grandson Willie, and after giving Juan some cherished family heirlooms, Hunter put a .44 Magnum to his 67 year-old-head and well, let’s say “checked out of the hotel.”
Continue reading ‘A “Very” Exclusive interview with Dr. Hunter S. Thompson’
By Christian Lipski
I heard about Tori Amos in early ’92 from a Kate Bush newsgroup, where they kept referring to this mysterious album called Y Kant Tori Read and wondering where it might be found. I dug Little Earthquakes so the existence of an additional entry in the Amos canon was a tantalizing thing. I saw a copy of YKTR once in a record shop in Tucson, Arizona, selling for $300—so close, yet so far.
Continue reading ‘Tori Amos, Y Kant Tori Read‘
By Emily C.
While bands like Roxy Music gained much publicity and popularity in the mid-1970s, Duncan Browne’s musical talents—superior in many ways—seemed doomed to fade into obscurity. Duncan Browne was a classical guitarist and singer who began his career in a folk vein with 1968’s Give Me Take You album. In many ways, this album is like the solo work of the Beatles, only less saccharine. Many of these gorgeous-sounding songs wouldn’t seem out of place next to George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” (perhaps the best post-Beatles song by any member of that band) with their whispery vocals, ambitious horn sections, and Browne’s impressive guitar figures.
Continue reading ‘Give Me Take You: The Music of Duncan Browne’