Arts & Culture
Every Picture Tells a Story
In becoming a photographer, one makes a choice to be the teller of stories rather than the subject, witness to the deeds of others, a visual historian to a particular moment in time Milwaukee photographer Jim Herrington has stories of his own, of course, but what fascinates is his body of work – and that’s the way he wants it. He has a gift for capturing the essence of his subjects, preferring native settings over studios and just shooting until he captures that perfect moment. “It’s like writing a song. Sometimes it’s there from the beginning and you have to get out of the way and let it happen.” To peruse Herrington’s portfolio is particularly delightful for lovers of American music. There’s almost nobody he hasn’t shot, and he has stories to tell about the rest. He also climbs and has incredible pictures, not so much of mountains, but of mountaineers. Something of a dreamer himself, he gravitates towards others like him, recording their visages for posterity and his own collection. Herrington will show work on Gallery Night at Cedar Gallery, upstairs at 326 N. Water St. But what you won’t get on October 19 is a sense of the stories he’s amassed along the way; how his photos came to be, a sense of the person behind each still image. Some of those stories are told here, in his words; a few others are on his website at jimherrington.com. The rest are his own – as it should be. VS
Oct 12th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Wonder Bread Years
Stand-up comedian/writer/commercial spokesman Pat Hazell is touring the country with The Wonder Bread Years, a series of recollections about growing-up as a baby boomer. Local comedian and theatre icon John McGivern takes Hazell’s role in Milwaukee’s production of the one-man show. The set is a stylized suburban front porch, personalized with a few McGivern touches to ground us in 1960s Milwaukee. From tiny kid’s cereal boxes to Kool-Aid and Toughskin jeans, the monologue about childhood in America covers a lot of common pop cultural ground, and anyone who grew up in the US in the 60s, 70s or 80s can make a connection with Wonder Bread Years. Pat Hazell’s performance of the same material was aired some time ago as a one-hour PBS special. Even though Hazell performed his own material, McGivern’s performance far outshines Hazell’s. Hazell’s delivery is heavily rooted in stand-up comedy, while McGivern, whose experience is richer in the theatrical stage, performs with a much more engaging stage presence. When McGivern is onstage, he’s there for far more than telling jokes. He genuinely loves being there. The delivery may feel a little over-enthusiastic in places, but McGivern’s trademark exuberant earnestness makes the material feel much more organic. This is particularly effective when the comedy settles down in poignant observations about the nature of childhood. Hazell’s delivery is detached — like he’s delivering a sales pitch. When Hazell gets serious and sentimental with his own material, it comes across like a speech at a $300 per ticket motivational seminar. When McGivern delivers the same material, is performance caries the kind of authentic ebullience that makes it work. McGivern may be better with The Wonder Bead Years than its original author was, but in places it is clear that McGivern isn’t entirely comfortable with Hazell’s material. When McGivern is performing his own material, there’s a kind of magic onstage – especially in his interactions with the audience. It’s a distinct theatrical experience when a stage presence as strong and dynamic as McGivern talks about his childhood to a packed audience of people who could’ve been in the area when he was growing up. Everyone’s in a theatre, but there’s that distinct feeling that you’re hanging out with a nice guy from the neighborhood on his porch on the east side. VS Pat Hazelton’s The Wonder Bread Years with John McGivern runs through October 28th at the Marcus Center for the Performing Arts. Tickets can be purchased in advance by calling the Marcus Center at 414-273-7206 or online at www.marcuscenter.org
Oct 12th, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
HA!
In Tandem Theatre Company marks their 10th Anniversary with the Midwest premiere of HA! Along with this premiere, the company also debuts their permanent residence at Tenth Street Theater, a few steps underground below a red brick church on Wisconsin Avenue near Marquette University. By opening weekend, In Tandem had finally received temporary occupancy. But even with unfinished features, the high ceilings, cathedral arched doorways and comfortable in-the-round theater will certainly provide the now-established troupe with an elegant space enabling their mission to enlighten, inspire, provoke, and entertain. Rich Orloff’s HA! pursues these themes with three distinctly different yet connected acts of theater. As a playwright, Orloff has won multiple awards for his comedies, and was most recently honored with a 2003 Dramatists Guild Fellowship. This particular play represents his comedic timing, but with biting “a-ha” moments. The first act sets a scene in ancient Greece, with the court of King Oedipus putting a politically correct spin on this unusual crisis in leadership. Act II moves to January 5, 1905, “when the snow in Russia turned red,” looking at this violent act from several points of view including the Russian aristocracy and their servants. The third act develops in a classroom, as a young student attempts to defend his ‘Master of Universe’ degree by designing a complete ecosystem named Earth. Its supreme element, the human being, is called before his professors, who will give him his final grade. At first impression, the entire play appears to be an extended riff on Saturday Night Live, but beneath the humorous lines are buried truths and thoughts worth contemplating. The cast, playing multiple roles, inclues actors Parker Drew, Simon Jon Provan, Kevin Rich and Jacque Troy as well as supporting cast members Jack Lee and Michelle Waide, and together they carry the comedy well. Under Chris Flieller’s direction, time and thought is given both to both laughter and the more controversial subject material. In two hours, HA! creates smiles but also plenty of conversation afterwards if the audience is willing. Several characters offer humorous “insight into the human condition,” asking “why human beings, given all the recipes and resources for paradise, were deemed impractical but at least biodegradable?” This series of comedic moments inspires and provokes, presenting a thoroughly happy 10th Anniversary for In Tandem. Celebrating in their new home on Tenth Street, HA! continues their theater traditions with wit and style. In Tandem Theatre Company continues presentingHA!through October 21 at Tenth Street Theater, 628 North Tenth Street, Milwaukee. For information: 414.271.1371.
Oct 10th, 2007 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
FINAL WEEK!
By Tracy Doyle Windfall Theatre’s latest venture is a bold attempt at staging a very intriguing and challenging piece of drama, David Mamet’s Cryptogram. Mamet’s work, famous for its frequent interruptions, trail-offs and swear words, is often difficult to nail, but Windfall comes close with this production. And although some of the clues in this play of mystery may be misguided, overall the experience is highly engaging and worth the effort. The definition of a cryptogram (according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary) is a communication in cipher or code, and that is exactly what to expect from Cryptogram. Words, props, set pieces, even gestures are all part of the code, and you, as an audience member, need to piece together the clues to figure out what is going on. The play revolves around the strangely absent Bobby (who never appears), his wife Donny (Carol Zippel) and their pre-adolescent son John (Avi Borouchoff), who is set to go on a camping trip with his father. As time passes and Bobby’s absence continues, the situation becomes more and more absurd: secrets are revealed and John drifts further and further toward a strange mental place children should never go, due in part to his insomnia and in another part to his role in the adults’ affairs. John starts questioning everything from the existence of countries on the globe to whether or not his mother has ever wanted to die and eventually brings the play to its surreal ending. The character development is outstanding with Larry Birkett as the family’s bachelor friend, Del, displaying an unsettling, quiet passion. Borouchoff shines with talent rarely seen in young actors, while Zippel’s struggle as her life comes crashing down around her is amazing to watch. However, the pacing was off at times, especially in the first scene, and the blocking left much to be desired. Misdirection of some of the key clues may lead audience members to incorrect conclusions, but all in all, this is a difficult yet fun piece not to be missed. Cryptogram continues though October 13 at Village Church Arts, 130 E. Juneau Avenue in Milwaukee. For tickets call 414-332-3963.
Oct 8th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Martin Ramirez at MAM
Martin Ramirez is an enigma. For decades, he was classified as one of the three greatest “outsider” artists of contemporary American art, but next to nothing was known about him. In the last ten years, two dedicated biographers have beaten back the darkness surrounding the facts of Ramirez’s life, but this endeavor has lead to other questions. Ramirez was born in the Jalisco region of Mexico in 1895. In 1925, like many others — then and now — he immigrated to the United States to find work. He worked on the railroad in Northern California for five years, sending money home to his wife and four children in Mexico. In 1930, Ramirez was arrested for erratic public behavior, and ultimately institutionalized, first in Stockton and then Dewitt State Hospital. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and lived the rest of his life in the institution, where he died in 1963. Most of these facts were not known when Ramirez was categorized as an outsider artist in the 1970s. It was thought he might have been born in Mexico, it was thought he might have died in the 1960s. It was widely thought that he was a deaf-mute, which is not accurate. The term “outsider artist” was coined to denote an artist that did not take part in the “art world” — one that did not exhibit, did not invite or assimilate criticism, did not discuss their art. An outsider artist might be thought of as someone who refused or was unable to think of themselves as an artist. However, along with basic biographical details of Martin Ramirez’s life, we have learned in recent years that he did exhibit during his lifetime. A professor at Sacramento State College visited Ramirez often and arranged for his art to be shown, both in solo exhibitions and as part of group shows, on both coasts. Ramirez was critiqued. He had visitors in Dewitt that came to see him to discuss his art. One must wonder if Ramirez did think of himself as an artist, especially towards the end of his life. All he had was the hospital, and his drawings. All historical considerations and controversies aside, though, it cannot be denied that Ramirez had a vision of some sort. He was driven to create, whether or not he was an “artist” in classical terms. His drawings, on bits of paper pieced together with a glue made of potato and his own saliva, in crayon and colored pencils and whatever else the staff of the hospital had lying around, have a decidedly dreamlike quality. Viewing them, one enters a surreal realm of horses and trains and women wearing crowns. Everything is stylized, and it’s unclear how much of that is due to the fact that Ramirez was drawing from memory after being in an institution for 30 years, and how much of that is due to his schizophrenia. My favorite of his general themes are the trains and tunnels. He does variations; there are a few […]
Oct 5th, 2007 by Ryan Findley
Element Everest
By Kenya Evans Life is a Heist tells the spiraling stories of the hood rich just trying to get by and delivers a verbal vengeance signed and sealed by Ms. Everest personally. The first and only lady of local hip hop group Black Elephant – 2006 WAMI runners-up for best unsigned artist – Element Everest (yes, her real name) is debuting her first solo album. She’s no stranger to MCing, writing rhymes and shutting down naysayers who criticize or question her authority as a female rap artist. Gritty and unapologetic, Life is a Heist booms with 808s, snares and brassy beats against Element’s smoky voice. The up-tempo “Intro” has the layered instrumentals of a marching band, dramatic and charged with musical action. “Good Girls,” the first single, which premiered on local radio station V100, is a sexy and sassy boy-meets-girl love song that’s mellow and made to groove to. Element upholds what Black Elephant does best – telling tales of the city, from grinding streets to head-bobbing beats – but brings a bit more soul to her own songs. Element sings a cappella on “The Wire,” reminiscent of an old Negro spiritual, channeling the stark realities of modern-day urban strife and the continuous struggle of black life: that there’s no difference between slaving in the fields to becoming slaves of the mind and products of an impoverished environment. “Katrina,” a duet with local guitarist/singer/songwriter Evan Christian, speaks for the dismal and discriminated New Orleans natives who were victims of a natural disaster and their own government. Overall, it’s rich and hard-hitting, both lyrically and musically: Element doesn’t play nice. Get ready to take a bite out of some ghetto melodies that bite back.
Oct 4th, 2007 by Vital Archives
An Interview with Paul Robeson
By Jill Gilmer Interviewer: “Why did you stop making films?” Paul Robeson: “Because little Negro girls go to the movies looking forward to experiencing fantasy. But when they come home, they feverishly try to rub the color off of their skin.” The excerpt above is one of the provocative question & answer segments from An Interview with Paul Robeson. The Next Act Theatre opens its season with this probing drama about the legendary African American scholar, entertainer and political activist. The play, written by John Kishline and Paul Mabon Sr., with Mabon starring in the title role, examines Robeson’s life and legacy through a lively discourse between him and a New York Times reporter. Paul Robeson appeared in 12 films and stole the show in the musical Showboat with his soulful rendering of “Ole Man River.” In 1943, he achieved critical acclaim playing Othello in Broadway’s longest running Shakespearean play. Prior to establishing himself as a performer, Robeson led a distinguished academic career. He overcame overt racism and physical abuse to graduate as valedictorian of his class from Rutgers University in 1918, the third black student to attend that institution. In his spare time on campus, he earned 15 athletic letters in football, basketball, baseball and track. He went on to graduate from Columbia Law School. Beyond this string of accolades, Robeson is well-known for using his celebrity to draw attention to social and political issues. He criticized the racial stereotypes that permeated American media during the Jim Crow era and challenged the idea that black people should fight to defend a country that denies them many of the privileges of citizenship. Robeson defended his provocative beliefs with personal sacrifice. He stopped making films that perpetuated racial stereotypes. He announced that, for two years, he would only perform songs about social justice. Robeson’s actions are sometimes credited with jump-starting the Civil Rights movement. Robeson was also a target of the McCarthy era investigations. On several occasions, he visited the Soviet Union and found it a warm and welcoming nation. For urging peace with the Soviet Union and his outspoken views about race in the U.S., the House Committee on Un-American Activities blacklisted his films and recordings for eight years. They also revoked his passport, limiting his opportunity to perform in Europe, where he had his strongest following. Today, it is still difficult to obtain copies of Robeson’s work. The play’s strength is its examination of Robeson’s childhood and early adult years and his contributions to the intellectual debate about fascism and the interplay between class, race and power. Director David Cecsarini creates an ideal venue for showcasing Robeson’s ideas and talent with a minimalist cast and set in the intimate Off-Broadway theatre. Paul Mabon embodies the strength of Robeson’s intellect and character. His rich, bass voice brings a stirring authenticity to Robeson’s most memorable songs, including “Ole Man River.” The playwrights do a commendable job shining a light on Robeson’s ideas while holding the audience’s attention with the drama of […]
Oct 3rd, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Sadies
The Sadies play like a Quentin Tarantino film — a synthesis of cult genres (surf, rockabilly, psychedelia), characters with memorable names (Sean Dean, Dallas Good) wearing smart suits, and a sweeping casualness about it all. Unlike Tarantino, the Toronto band’s fifth studio release has an absence of curse words and racial slurs. It’s hard to neglect their liner-note acknowledgment of the “financial assistance of the government of Canada through the department of Canadian Heritage” – pretty amusing since their brand is a blend of mindfully resuscitated ’60s American music. The Sadies haven’t reinvented the wheel, but they do hitch it on a wagon that rolls past an enjoyable landscape. “My Heart Of Wood” and “Sunset To Dawn” parade natural harmonies reminiscent of the Eagles. “Anna Leigh,” an organ-permeated trot about a mirage of love, is easily mistaken for a song titled “Emily” given the rambling, raspy lead singer. “Wolf Tones” and finale “The Last Inquisition (Pt.V)” highlight the band’s instrumental adeptness and stand tall without the Bob Seger vocal reinforcement; the upright bass, guitars, autoharp, and drums are eerie, inspired, and practically faultless. Extended family members contribute their musicality to the record – most distinctly, Larry Good’s lively, but buried, banjo artistry on “Never Again.” The filtered autumn colors in fuzzy film grain emblazoned across the CD packaging are representative of New Season‘s sound: inviting, textured, and mature. Maybe it’s okay to occasionally judge a book by the cover.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Testa Rosa
When Milwaukee-based band The Mustn’ts shook hands and called it a day, they couldn’t have realized what a happy parting of ways it would become when two even more brilliant bands were re-formed from the not-even-settled dust: The Celebrated Workingman and Testa Rosa. The latter, a condensed version of The Mustn’ts (all three members of Testa Rosa were in The Mustn’ts) is Betty Blexrud-Strigens (vocals/guitar/keys), Damian Strigens (guitar/drums/bass/vocals) and Paul Hancock (bass/piano/guitar/vocals). Testa Rosa’s astounding triple threat of clever lyricism, luminous melody and the best girl vocals to be heard since the days of buttery 60s pop is an undeniable force to both listeners who play music themselves and casual pop consumers. Those who understand the complexities of composing a diamond of a pop song will hold genuine appreciation for the effortless songs nestled between the covers of Testa Rosa’s first release. And even the tone-deaf will be floored by Blexrud-Strigens’s alluring vocals, which hover lucidly over even the grittiest of their songs. Hancock and Strigens are the driving force behind the atmospheric pretty-pop primarily written by Blexrud-Srigens. Testa Rosa effortlessly ranges genres and manages to smooth them beautifully (compliments of producer/engineer mastermind Beau Sorenson of Madison’s Smart Studios). Two of the best songs on the album, “Ollie & Delilah” and “Arms of a Tree,” demonstrate this mix – “Ollie & Delilah” is a heartbreaking but punchily-penned song about two young lovers lead astray, with heart-thumping drumbeats, huge, echoing guitars and ghostly keyboards; “Arms of a Tree” is a wistful and lovely ballad which showcases Blexrud-Strigen’s alto perfectly. For lack of a better word, ‘perfectly’ is just how Testa Rosa’s first release appears to have turned out.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Know Your DJ
DJ ROCK DEE AGE: 39 SIGN: Leo DAY JOB: Brookfield Guitar Center; Air personality, 88.9 Radio Milwaukee; DJ for Mob Candy Magazine & True Baller Clothing STYLE: Hip-hop, house, old-school funk, disco, salsa, reggae RESIDENCIES: Alverno College, Zen Den, Radio Milwaukee, Walkers Pint, Three, Summerfest BEST NIGHT EVER: Summerfest 2002. I had produced the Diskotech DJ stage. I had all the greats that year! One night I had Biz Markie headlining … I was blessed to experience the sports area packed … over 3,000 strong, with everyone singing “Just a Friend” right along with Biz Markie. WORST NIGHT EVER: God bless, none yet! ON THE NO-PLAY LIST: Honestly, nothing really comes to mind. If it’s good music, I will play it, no matter what the genre. STATE OF THE SCENE: My professor Tracy Stockwell reminds me all the time what a great city Milwaukee is … the art galleries, the economic development, the nightlife. DJs can actually work and make a living here … that is the bomb to me! Some say we’re still behind the times – and maybe we are a little – though we as a city are setting our own times, not basing our time on anyone else’s. IN THE BEGINNING: I was breakdancing at Skate University when all of a sudden these dudes make an entrance with equipment that never seemed to stop coming. Next thing I knew, there was this guy named Dr. B mixing records … cutting, scratching, backspinning, mixing this with that and rapping on the mic … I knew from that point on that was what I was going to do for the rest of my life. That was 1982 and now it’s 2007 … you do the math! FLAV-OR-ICE FLAVOR: Green. KID CUT UP AGE: 25 SIGN: Caution: Curve Ahead DAY JOB: Being a DJ is a full time job. GEAR: Tech 12’s, Vinyl, Serato, Rane 56, Shure SM58 STYLE: Well-rounded DJing. Hand skills AND party rockin’. Commercial AND underground. New AND old school. RESIDENCIES: No Request Fridays @ Redlight above Tocadero w/ Why B; Flirt Thursdays @ Hi Hat Garage w/ Steve Marxx; Hiphop Tuesdays @ the Uptowner w/ DJ Musko BEST NIGHT EVER: Any night people are down to let loose and have a good time. WORST NIGHT EVER: Weddings CURRENTLY PLAYING: New album from Milwaukee’s Element ON THE NO-PLAY LIST: Requests STATE OF THE SCENE: Potential-filled FLAV-OR-ICE FLAVOR: Orange. Slightly melted. DJ NU-STYLEZ AGE: 27 SIGN: Libra DAY JOB: DJ, mix tape producer, music producer STYLE: Hip-hop, crowd rocking, ghetto house … you name it, I can get it done. RESIDENCIES: Texture; Digital Underground tour DJ BEST NIGHT EVER: Sydney, Australia… rocking 10,000 people down under… unbelievable. WORST NIGHT EVER: Reno, Nevada. The sound man was drunk and left the board and somehow turned off the monitors, so there was no sound on stage! CURRENTLY PLAYING: My remixes and whatever makes me and the people on the dance floor feel good! STATE OF THE SCENE: It’s on […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
A matter of perspective
By Blaine Schultz, Jon Anne Willow and Kenya Evans + Photos by Kat Jacobs and Erin Landry In planning this story, we originally set out to pair young musicians with seasoned veterans and see what kind of school would be in session as a result. But what happened instead was vastly more interesting: organic dialogue stemming from a common love. What follows are three interviews with six musicians penned by three writers. The questions for each were different, as were the settings and interview styles. But the messages overlap, intertwine and paint a bigger picture of what it takes to live one’s passion. From creative process to overcoming jadedness to living with your choices, these six musicians laid it all out. Very special thanks to the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music for opening their doors for the photo shoots for this story. You’ll find more incredible images in our gallery at vitalsourcemag.com. —Jon Anne Willow Peder Hedman and Jason Mohr By Blaine Schultz + Photo by Erin Landry It is a too-warm September evening in Jason Mohr’s backyard, but nobody’s complaining. Bug spray and citronella candles help, but this year’s crop of mosquitoes arrived late and hungry. In a far-ranging conversation that spans Mohr’s thoughts on how a songwriter may be unconsciously predicting his own future to Hedman’s take on what it means to keep a band together when domestic realities come to the fore, it was never really obvious that two decades separate this pair of Milwaukee musicians. A common point of reference for both guitar mavens is the Maestro Echoplex, a vintage analog tape echo unit. Hedman brought to the interview a Stylophone, a gizmo he picked up at Value Village. The crude, handheld synthesizer may be best known as the instrument that plays the solo on David Bowie’s “Space Oddity.” The Peder Hedman Quartet is in the final stages of self-releasing Don’t Fall Down; Mohr’s group, Juniper Tar, is nearly ready as well with the provisionally-titled Free Bird. Both bands begin with interesting songs and then subtly warp them to their own needs. And make no mistake, the musicians who collaborate with Hedman and Mohr are as talented and beyond ordinary as you will find. “Take a look at this, the first press I ever got,” Hedman says, setting an age-yellowed copy of the Crazy Shepard on the table. The 1982 article profiles the Null Heirs, accompanied by a grainy black and white photo. Since then, bassist Mike Frederickson went on to form The Moseleys and play bass with Robbie Fulks; keyboardist John Duncan played with Gear Daddy Martin Zellar (and Tiny Tim); Kent Mueller ran the late KM Art. Hedman played in Liquid Pink, then Tweaker, which landed him down south for years. It’s a sharp contrast to Mohr’s less than a decade of band experience, highlighted by an EP with his previous group, Telectro. “If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it … well, I’m making my mark,” Hedman says of his […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
The Milwaukee Music Scene(tm), part deux
Rejected titles for this month’s column: God, I hate The Gufs; God, I hate Chicago; Are you there God? It’s me, Milwaukee. After more than a decade as an on-again, off-again bit player in the Milwaukee Music Scene (MMS), I’m no closer to cracking its modest secrets than I was on day one. At times, our little city seems on the verge of something great, something bold and original; other times, it seems like a distant cousin’s wedding dance that simply refuses to end (no matter how many times “We Are Family” and “Baby Got Back” are played). In MMS columns of the past, I’ve written: “Maybe it’s that the MMS is like a cruel mistress, or maybe more like a jilted lover, or maybe more like a wacky TV next-door neighbor you just can’t get rid of. Any way you dice it, this is the time, city and scene we’ve all been given, so let’s focus on the good and avoid the bad.”Indeed, perhaps the best summation I can give our local indie/rock/noise/cow-punk/Gregorian-chant scene is that it’s schizophrenic at best, and simply catatonic at worst. Nevertheless, it’s the one we’re stuck with, and one thankfully rife with just enough left-field, life-affirming moments to keep us all plugging along without putting guns to our heads. But before we dive deeper into that barrel of monkeys, let me say this: at least we’re not Chicago. The oft-mentioned inferiority complex we harbor for our Illinois neighbor has always puzzled me, as if criminally overpriced drinks, non-smoking venues and Billy Corgan are things worth aspiring to. During a trip to Roger Ebert’s stomping grounds last month, for example, I was faced with fifteen-dollar rum and cokes, twelve-dollar cover charges, and a smokeless, soulless venue that resembled a horrific cross between The Rave, Cush and a slightly upscale Hardees. For all its hype, the Windy City has always struck me as nothing more than a typical midwestern dump with a hugely inflated ego. Put simply (and to crib a line from The Adventures of Pete and Pete): Chicago can bite my scab. But anyway, back to the homefront. Nothing better illustrates Milwaukee’s strange, musical split-personality than a recent evening that featured both the unbelievably good times provided by the monthly Get Down, and the unspeakable horrors of The Gufs playing a free outdoor show a block from my apartment. Both events are fine examples of their respective ends of the MMS spectrum, with unbridled joy brought on by an incredible selection of music on one side, and unchecked nausea brought on by maudlin lyrics and poor fashion sense on the other. Following some sort of urban-playground/soccer/skateboard/BMX/let’s-do-this-before-Downer-Avenue-turns-into-a-goddamned-parking-garage block party, The Gufs set up shop and begin to do their thing, much to the delight of the sea of inebriated 18-year olds flooding the street. You may remember The Gufs as one of the slew of one-hit 90’s bands with a skin-crawlingly treacle-laced song about “crashing into me.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re all […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
