ARTHUR EMAIL BULLETIN No. 0070

“COMMAND PERFORMANCE”

The Arthur Magazine Email Bulletin

No. 0070

April 5, 02007

BLOG:

http://www.arthurmag.com/magpie

SPACE:

http://www.myspace.com/arthurmag

Comments:

editor@arthurmag.com

So yeah,

1. ORPHANED ARTICLES FROM ARTHUR NOW BEING POSTED AT ARTHUR BLOG

Stay tuned for news about Arthur Vol. II, debuting as soon as we can get it happening. We’ve been through a (completely unnecessary) wringer over the last few months. In the meantime, articles intended for publication in the now-cancelled Arthur Vol 1 No 26 are being posted at Arthur’s “Magpie” blog at:

http://www.arthurmag.com/magpie/

2. NEW PRINTING OF ARTHUR’S CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED “THE INVASION OF THUNDERBOLT PAGODA” DVD COMING SOON.

We are psyched dude to announce the imminent second printing of Ira Cohen’s “The Invasion of Thunderbolt Pagoda” DVD, which received critical raves from The New York Times and The Wire upon its release late last summer and sold out in November, 2006. (Please don’t ask what took us so long, it’s a bummer.) Further news and pre-order info are available at

http://www.arthurmag.com/news/

3. FRIDAY THE 13TH FROCK N ROLL 

Frequent Arthur contributor Steve “Plastic Crimewave” Krakow writes:

“I will be exhibiting some “glam god” drawing/painting collaborations (of Roy Wood, Arthur Brown, Mick Ronson, and Jobriath)  with renaissance woman Amy Cargill (yes she painted, i drew) at:

Frock N Roll, at local project 2136 44th road, L.I.C., NY

April 13th thru Saturday April 28th 

Opening Reception: April 13th, 6pm -midnight

An Intersection of Art, Music and Fashion, curated by Wendy Gosselin and Veronica Ibarra

Frock N Roll –the creation of a theatrical environment; a happening that recognizes and embraces a diverse assemblage of artists with a passion for all that is Frock N Roll.a multi-media exhibition exploring the connection, evolution and impact that visual art, fashion and rock and roll evoke in our society. Frock N Roll developed from obsessions for vintage materials, music, the zeitgeist of decades

past and future, idols and heroes, and contemporary design. The artists in this exposition are aroused by classic, glitter, metal and all incarnations of rock that resonate in us to construct a new

aesthetic.

Uniting over 20 cutting-edge artists from the international arena of the most inspirational cities in the world, this unique event showcases provocative works in various mediums including photography, fashion design, sculpture, painting, illustration, performance, installation, graphic design, and music. Live performances will be featured to provide a complete three-dimensional “happening” environment.

Artists

Eva Aridjis, NYC ~Maureen Baine, NYC ~ Joanne Burke, UK ~Paul Collins, NYC ~ Tracy Conti, NYC ~

Plastic Crimewave/Amy Cargill, Chicago ~ Marietta Davis, NYC ~Lauren Divine, NYC ~ Wendy Gosselin, NYC ~Moni Haworth, UK ~ Joie Iacono, NYC ~Avelardo Ibarra, Los Angeles ~Veronica Ibarra, NYC

Cornelia Jensen, NYC ~ Tora Lopez, NYC ~Layla Lozano, NYC~ Sarah MacKinnon, NYC ~Emiliano Maggi, Rome ~ Alexandra Morrill, NYC ~Parasite Films, NYC ~ Pomade, NYC~ Arik Roper, NYC ~

April Rose, NYC ~ Lou Suarez, NYC ~Jaiko Suzuki, NYC Urban Inks, NYC ~Craig VanMackelberg, NYC ~ Angela Wieland, NYC ~Grant Worth, NYC

Opening night Visual Extravaganza includes:

Fashion Show designs by Wendelism, Chromium Dumb Belle by Joanne Burke, POMADE

Special performance by Anna Copa Cabanna and Breedlove.

Music by Lady Starlight, Kevin Wyzzard and Brother Louie.

4. THOSE THIRTY EXTRA MINUTES CAN MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE…

Arthur Magazine and LARecord present

The Echo Park Social(ist) & Pleasure Club

Thursday, April 5

and EVERY Thursday night

HOT DAMN, IT’S A NEW EARLIER STARTING TIME!  930pm sharp

at

LITTLE JOY

1477 Sunset Blvd in Echo Park

((( free )))

21 & up

Tonight’s deejays:

930pm-1100pm: DANIEL CHAMBERLIN (Arthur Magazine)

1100pm-1230am: BECKY STARK & RON REGE (Lavender Diamond)

1230am-lights out: JAY BABCOCK (Arthur Magazine) & friends

Last Thursday, deejay SUE SIADAT (LARecord) started off the evening with:

the 3rd bardo – 5 yrs ahead of my time

link wray – ace of spades

nels cline trio – coned off

christian death – romeo’s distress

bubonic plague – bad moods

patti smith – break it up

horses – father

frank zappa – st alfonzo’s pancake breakfast & (part of) father oblivion

bad dudes – animatronic tito puente

beat generation – vol. 1, track 3

groupies – primitive

buddy holly – ?

ariel pink – people i’m not

magik markers – infinite regress

sonic youth – destroyer

CAN – vitamin C

antony & the johnsons – fistful of love

bride of no no – gypsy’s song

jandek – ?

Then DR. KEITH MORRIS rocked the nation with

1.Buddy Miles-“Them Changes”

2.Lee Michaels-“Hello”

3.Spirit-“Fresh Garbage”

4.Bob Seger-“2+2=?”

5.Gil Scott-Heron-“The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”

6.Elton John-“Empty Sky”

7.Master’s Apprentices-“Easy To Lie”

8.Harry Nilsson-“Jump Into The Fire”

9.Quiksilver Messenger Service-“Pride Of Man”

10.Blue Oyster Cult-“She’s As Beautiful As A Foot”

11.Tucky Buzzard-“Time Will Be Your Doctor”

12.Steve Hillage-“It’s All To Much”

13.Elvis Costello_”Tear Off Your Own Head(It’s A Doll Revolution)”

14.Barclay James Harvest-“Taking Some Time On”

15.The Pretty Things-“Joey”

16.The Monkees-“Porpoise Song”

17.Max Frost & The Troopers-“Shape Of Things To Come”

18.Rhinoceros-“Apricot Brandy”

19.The Soundtrack Of Our Lives-“Sister Surround”

20.Alice Cooper-“Caught In A Dream”

21.Mudhoney-“Urban Guerilla”

and finally B+ AKA PADDY PERDIDO (Mochilla) did a set he called “Universe in Disenchantment…” in tribute to Tim Maia:

Tim Maia:  Rational Culture

Tim Maia: Nobody Lives Forever

Krishnanda: Agua Viva

Eduardo Aruajo: Sou Filho Deste Chao

Ze Ramalho: Admiravel Gado Novo

Amaro De Souza and Haeraldo Oliveira: A Corõa Do Rei

O Terco: Adormeceu

Giberto Gil: 2000

Arthur Verocai: Karina (Domingo no Grajau)

Jorge Ben: Camisa to da Gãvea

Trio Mocoto: Swinga Sambaby

Tim Maia com Wilson Das Neves: Os Caras Querem

Os Originais do Samba: Falador Passa Mal

Osmar Milito: Morre o Burro, Fica o Homem

Miguel de Deus: Black Soul Brother

Marku:  Meu Samba Régué

Robson Jorge and Lincoln Olivetti:

Tim Maia: Vitoria Regia estou Contigo

Wilson Das Neves: Pick up the Pieces

<< ECHO PARK SOCIAL(IST) & PLEASURE CLUB: taking the edge off brutal reality since 2005 >>

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ARTHUR MAGAZINE

Atwater Village

"Net Loss" by Douglas Rushkoff

(intended for publication in the cancelled Arthur Vol. 1, No. 26 [March 2007])

NET LOSS
by Douglas Rushkoff

I’m a bit down on the Internet these days.

Sure, a lot of it has to do with that obsequiously pandering Time magazine cover—the one with the little mirror on it telling us all that each of us is the “person of the year.” That is, each of us connected to the Internet and throwing our photos and personal consumer histories up on the web for everyone to see. We’re supposedly undergoing a revolution because now, instead of paying for movie tickets, we can pay for computers, hard drives and access time—often to the very same media conglomerate we think we’re ripping off.

And some of my misgivings have to do with a recent mistake I made myself, posting to my weblog the fact that I had gotten mugged, and how that had caused me to reflect on my own participation in the gentrification of my part of Brooklyn. Diehard Brooklynites (no doubt harboring mixed feelings about whoever they may have displaced in order to live here and make it “cool” instead) went on something of a rampage against me, posting all sorts of nonsense on bulletin boards about how Rushkoff was leaving Park Slope because he’d got mugged. A few real-world newspapers even quoted fake postings in the comments section of my blog, mistakenly attributing those posts to me.

Adding insult to injury, some Zionist extremists (or their paid online shills) who don’t like me took the opportunity to create a “sock mob” effect —a term I coined to describe how one or two people can post dozens or even hundreds of comments online under different pseudonyms to make it look like there’s a mob of people agreeing to hate a particular person or idea. (Think Swift Boat Veterans, on a much smaller scale.)

So the Internet—the place where I actually grew up as a thinker and writer—was no longer a safe place for me to engage with others about the ideas that are most personally important to me. Even the “discussion” in the unmoderated comments section of my blog could at a moment’s notice turn as mean, vitriolic and ultimately fake as any conversation taking place anywhere online. The Internet didn’t elevate our discourse—it left us in the same pit we were in to begin with. In fact, the ability to conceal one’s identity, combined with the ability to attack others without ever looking them in the eye, has made discourse on the Internet even more prone to cruelty than in real life.

Meanwhile, on a daily basis, my inbox fills with messages from people I know and people I don’t. Everyone expects an answer from me the same way they expect an answer from the customer service department of the Gap. At least from me they get one. But am I making the most considered response I can? Of course not— for the most part, I’m simply trying to get through the stack of email and respond as sufficiently as necessary. But that’s not the way I want to interact with anyone—even if they’re treating me like the complaints desk. And it undermines the quality of the remaining exchanges with people whose queries really do merit consideration and response.

And all this keyboard activity has become quite draining. Back in the ’90s, I would log off the Well or a Usenet board feeling exhilarated by what I had learned and who I had “met.” Today I can’t get off the Internet fast enough. It’s as if my very chi is being absorbed by this pulsing datastructure—an avatar of the combined will of both humanity and the marketplace on each one of us.

We can’t help but want to respond when people reach out to us by email or on a discussion board—after all, there’s a real person on the other end of each transmission. But for me, anyway, it feels as if the transmissions themselves have been stripped of all prana—of all the nutrients otherwise associated with organic exchange. Think of the difference between teaching a person in a real bar how to play pool, and describing to someone in an email “how to play pool.” Almost the same information can be exchanged, but without any contact. Now, it’s not the lechery of live pool instruction I miss. Not exactly. What I miss is what one gets back during an exchange in person. The joy, the contact, the full range of subtle communication, is gone.

I’d argue that the data we’re exchanging —from pool lessons to political theories—are themselves just media for our social interactions. Yes, it’s great to have a cause to rally around, but for the most part these causes are excuses to rally. In our highly rational, highly time-pressured schedules, we need excuses to be with each other, from the woman taking a French class in the hopes of finding a husband to the guy taking yoga to check out girls in tight sweats. Somehow, the Internet convinces us that the content we’re exchanging is the end in itself—when it’s actually just a means to an end. And that end will never be found online.

I’ve been saying since the late ’80s—before the Internet really existed—that our networks are not a thing in themselves. They are a trial run, a social experiment: a way of practicing collective social engagement so that we might see whether or not such a thing is possible in real life. The Internet of the early to mid-’90s really was such a collaborative space, and a few of the projects that remain from those days, from Wikipedia to Craig’s List, still bear some resemblance to that earliest ethos of provisional collectivism.

But Wikipedia has now fallen victim, to some extent, to politicians and others with agendas, who change entries about their opposition to make them look bad. And Craig’s List has become increasingly difficult to patrol for scams and ruthless profiteers. Each organization has to spend more time and resources preventing abuse than it does doing the thing it originally set out to do. And that’s pretty much the definition of the “point of diminishing returns.”

I’m not signing off the Internet just yet. I need it for all the same reasons all of us do. But I no longer assume as much about the experiences I’m going to have online as I used to. I don’t take for granted the existence of a community on the other side the screen. I don’t read my email before my morning coffee—I wait until I’ve got my best psychological defense mechanisms in place. I don’t socialize online; I make appointments to socialize (as time allows these days) offline in some real place. Or even on the phone, which feels intimate compared to the asynchronous communication via computer screen.

I still refuse to believe the experiment in developing a virtual culture has failed. Even if the Internet doesn’t foster the gentle, compassionate, and open-minded society we might like to see in the real world, its descent into heated polarities, exhibitionism and profiteering should serve as an example of how even our best intentions can be undone. It makes us aware of how easily manipulated we are, how prone we are to excitation of the basest kind and how desperately we want attention from others. That is, each of the things we may dislike about the Internet—from its extreme forms of marketing to the cruelty and humiliation that pass as entertainment—are merely exaggerations of our tendencies in real life. But the Internet allows those tendencies to be rebroadcast and absorbed by us as if they were real—and they go on to influence the actions of individuals, organizations, corporations and governments in the real world.

People see an erroneous, venomous post somewhere, and can’t help but take in some part of that sentiment as justified or factual. Hell, I’m still getting emails from friends asking why I’m moving to Long Island, or why I denied the Holocaust—both completely fictitious constructions of anonymous Internet users that nevertheless trickle back out from the virtual world into the real one. A music reviewer I know became the recipient of death threats by phone and email after a band whose album she panned invited its fans—via their website—to go on the rampage. And we writers are a hell of a lot less victimized by these sorts of fabrications than the artists, scholars and activists who really stick their necks out, from Paul Krugman and Noam Chomsky to Tony Kushner and Al Gore.

The more monstrous thought-forms constructed online needn’t be allowed to feed back into the real world any more than the monsters of our nightmares need to invade our waking lives. They only lead to equally artificial extremes of thought and behavior — dangerously divorced from local, organic and social moderation. They grow into false polarities like the red-state/blue-state divide; they foment antagonism over religion and race; and they give license to the most ruthless marketers and profiteers.

Rather, we must remember that the expressions thriving in the online universe have been divorced of their connection to the flesh, the heart, and the neo-cortex.

Consumed in their raw form, many of them are toxic.


BULL TONGUE 26 by Byron Coley and Thurston Moore

(intended for publication in the cancelled Arthur Vol. 1, No. 26 [March 2007])

Bull Tongue 26
The Top 80 of 2006

1. GOTHENBURG BLOOD CULT – New tape label out of Sweden bartering in ultra hell noise. Check out the compilation Fuck Money, Fuck Life w/ grinding hardcore spew from Maniac Cop , Ochu , and Treriksroset . Sweden’s such a beatific place, it’s hard to figure the gore mania the noise scene there is so preoccupied with.

2. SAME BAND – Boxed Set 10 CD box (Disques Dual) Amazing documentation of a Portland, ME combo who existed in an oddball universe akin to some of the best just-pre-punk weirdos. They came along later than bands like MX-80 Sound, but manifest a similar vibe, which makes sense because their roots are in combos first formed in 1968 or. Part free form, part Zappa, part punk, this is rural-experimental fuckeroo of the highest order. Includes some DVD video footage, interviews, a great booklet of fliers and pics, and is contained inside a most lovely wooden box. During their lifetime they cut only one LP and one 45, but this set (recorded between ’77 & ’80) captures a brilliant, beautiful strangeness.

3. SIC ALPS – Pleasures and Treasures LP (Animal Disguise) It’s time for Sic Alps to fully bust out. An incredible raw psychedelia is being played here and after a couple of down low tapes on Folding and Animal Disguise we’re steamy mouthed listening to their first LP (which is basically an early version of the band w/ the awesome Bianca Sparta of Erase Errata .)

4. DESPERATE MAN BLUES DVD – director: Edward Gillan (Dust to Digital) Nice to have a DVD of this great documentary on Joe Bussard , plus another featurette, King of the Record Collectors , and other bonus stuff. Bussard is a stone gas, grooving around his basement amidst one of the finest collections of pre-war 78s ever assembled. A few nice archival shots of Fahey , too. And the stories are hilarious.

Continue reading

Erik Davis, Walter Murch, more at BLDG BLOG San Francisco

From Erik Davis (author of the Joanna Newsom profile in Arthur V1 N25):

“This Saturday in SF I will be participating in an eclectic symposium brought to you by Chronicle Books and Geoff Manaugh’s supernifty BLDGBLOG:

when: Sat 4.7 (2:30-5pm)
where: California College of the Arts (1111 8th St, 415.551.9210)
price: FREE
details: http://bldgblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/bldgblog-chronicle-books-present.html

BLDGBLOG’s founding editor Geoff Manaugh has pulled together a group of speakers as comprehensive and engaging as his design blog. This interdisciplinary conversation on architecture and landscape unites people from various, sometimes surprising, backgrounds. Walter Murch, film editor and sound mixer for pictures like Apocalypse Now (1979) and the Godfather trilogy, presents original research on how Rome’s Pantheon influenced Copernicus, while author Erik Davis explores mysticism and spirituality in California’s architectural landscapes. Architect Lisa Iwomoto’s show-and-tell displays her firm’s newest technologies along with digital models for housing projects, and Rebar Group founders John Bela and Matthew Passmore discuss collaborative and public design such as their COMMONspace project. “


At home with Alejandro Jodorowsky

‘I’m the last crazy artist’

Thanks to the end of a bitter 30-year feud, the deranged, gruesome movies of Alejandro Jodorowsky are finally hitting the big screen. Xan Brooks meets the director of El Topo

Thursday April 5, 2007
The Guardian

Alejandro Jodorowsky, the one-time king of the midnight movie, can still be seen every night at the witching hour – but only on Spanish TV. This white-bearded 78-year-old has a new sideline presenting “… and finally” items on the nightly news. He scours the papers and websites for these heartwarming little snippets and then records them in a block; 30 every month. “The planet is ill, everyone knows that,” he says. “But I need to be optimistic, otherwise I would just be adding to the negativity. So every night I come on Madrid TV and read a piece of good news.”

These days Jodorowsky has a snippet of his own to report. The director recently ended his 30-year feud with Allen Klein, the hardball executive who once managed the Beatles. It was Klein who helped promote the US release of El Topo – America’s original “midnight movie” – and it was Klein who stumped up the funds for its extravagant follow-up, The Holy Mountain. And, when the two men fell out, it was Klein who yanked both films out of circulation. But now the world finally has the chance to judge them afresh.

I meet Jodorowsky at his Paris apartment, in a book-lined room patrolled by cats. “Are you afraid of cats?” he asks. “Some people are.” He explains that he lives alone but has a woman – a new woman – moving in with him soon and that he is having the place repainted in readiness. “Five cats and a woman. That is all I need in life.” His grin exposes a spectacular set of teeth. They can’t be real, but maybe they are. With Jodorowsky it’s sometimes hard to separate the fact from the fiction.

Jodorowsky’s life reads like the plot of a magic-realist novel. He was born in Chile, of Ukrainian-Jewish descent, but abandoned his family “because my father was a monster, and my mother was as well”. Alighting in Paris in the 1950s, he studied mime with Marcel Marceau and directed Maurice Chevalier in music hall. Relocating to Mexico, he founded an avant-garde theatre group and scandalised the Catholic priests, who believed he was holding black mass orgies in the cathedral. “In Mexico they want to kill me!” he exclaims. “A soldier held a gun to my chest!”

In 1970, he directed El Topo, a deranged peyote western that some have interpreted as a metaphor for the Old and New Testaments. It starred himself as a cold-blooded gunslinger in rabbinical black, and his son, Brontis, buck-naked apart from a Stetson. El Topo came to the attention of John Lennon who hailed it as a counter-culture masterpiece. Lennon introduced the film in New York, where it later played in special midnight screenings for almost a year. He also convinced Klein to stump up $1m for Jodorowsky’s next production. And that’s where the trouble began.

I watch El Topo and it stands up pretty well; a shotgun wedding of Sergio Leone and Federico Fellini: primal and pretentious in about equal measure. Then I watch The Holy Mountain and it’s as though the world has gone widescreen. It’s astonishing, outlandish; unlike anything made before or since. The plot concerns a thief who meets an alchemist (Jodorowsky again) and embarks on a quest for immortality. Yet the movie comes riddled with extraordinary setpieces. The most notable of these depicts the conquest of Mexico, re-enacted with chameleons dressed up as Aztecs and toads playing the Conquistadors. “Klein hated The Holy Mountain,” says Jodorowsky ruefully. “He think I am crazy.”

Matters reached a head when the director bailed out of Klein’s next project, The Story of O. “I did not want to make a sexual film, because I am a feminist. So Klein says, ‘OK, if you don’t want to make this picture I will take your other pictures and no one will ever see them again’. And that’s what he did. He took all the copies and he retired them.” For three decades, the films existed only as poor quality bootlegs, which Jodorowsky would collect and circulate among his nearest and dearest.

The front door bangs and a woman enters the room. “This is my ex-wife,” he explains breezily. “We are very good friends.” It turns out that the former Mrs Jodorowsky has dropped by with some magazine clippings. More good news for his TV broadcasts.

Two years ago, Jodorowsky learned that the El Topo negative had been discovered in a laboratory in Mexico. His first thought was to release it off his own back. Finally he decided to contact his old enemy and the pair agreed to meet in London. “For 30 years I hate Klein and he hate me,” he recalls. “I thought I should take a weapon in case he wants to kill me. Then the hotel door opened and there was this little old man with white hair, just like mine. He said, ‘You are not a monster. You are beautiful’. And the whole thing, all that hate, was finished in 10 seconds.” Jodorowsky later supervised the re-mastering of both El Topo and The Holy Mountain. Finally, he says, he has the films exactly as he wants them.

These days he has found a fresh lease of life writing comic books and studying the tarot. He says the tarot has helped him make peace with his past and become a better father. He now returns to Chile to give readings for the president, Michelle Bachelet. He even has the photo to prove it. “That’s her,” he says. “Admiring me.”

Jodorowsky calls himself “the world’s last crazy artist”. But in terms of film-making he is now a king without a kingdom. He shot his last picture, The Rainbow Thief, as a hack-for-hire back in 1990 and has since disowned it. He still dreams of making a gangster picture starring Nick Nolte and Marilyn Manson but he can’t quite raise the cash.

In the wake of The Holy Mountain he embarked on an abortive attempt to adapt Frank Herbert’s Dune (later made by David Lynch). When the backers pulled the plug, several members of Jodorowsky’s core creative team jumped ship to work on Ridley Scott’s Alien – reportedly taking many of the film’s ideas with them. More recently his comic-book editor launched an unsuccessful lawsuit against Luc Besson. It was alleged that The Fifth Element was heavily indebted to Jodorowsky’s comic-book series, The Incal.

Jodorowsky insists he is happy, not embittered, when others do use his ideas. “They like me and they copy me,” he says. “That is very flattering.”

Out of the blue he tells a tale from the past, from his bad old days in Mexico City. He explains that the winner of a cockfight is judged to be the last bird standing – the one that does not put its beak to the ground. But some cocks are so ferocious they literally die on their feet, with their beaks inclined towards the sky. Meanwhile, the other bird survives a little longer, staggering drunkenly for a spell before expiring in the dirt. According to the rules, this bird “loses” and the other bird “wins”. Belatedly I realise Jodorowsky is talking about himself. “I want to live to be 120,” he says. “But of course I am getting old. And yet even if I die, the ideas live on. And that way I continue.” He points his head to the ceiling and bares that terrific set of teeth. In that brief moment they look as real as real can be.

· El Topo is out on Friday, and a retrospective is at the NFT, London, April 5-19. The Jodorowsky DVD collection is released on May 14


Karl Rove Starts to Get What's Coming to Him

(April 3, 2007) WASHINGTON – White House aide Karl Rove came face to face with angry protesters after speaking to the Young Republican Club at American University Tuesday night, with about 20 students lying down in front of his car.

Student Josh Goodman told The Washington Post other students kicked Rove’s car, “and tried to stop it as best they could.”

Goodman, an AU junior, said he and others wanted to make a “citizens arrest” of the presidential adviser.

This is exclusive eyewitness video of the incident. This low-res video was captured on a cell phone.

SLY STONE PLAYS LIVE IN VEGAS…

From the Apr. 02, 2007 Las Vegas Review-Journal:

IN CONCERT: Sly comes in from the cold

Funkster rejoins Family one stiff step at a time

By JASON BRACELIN

Who: Sly and the Family Stone
When: Saturday
Where: Flamingo Showroom
Attendance: 700 (est.)
Grade: C+

The suspense was as thick as the rock ’em sock ’em bass lines, the purring organ, the militant horns and the vague sense of disbelief.

Sly and the Family Stone was working up a sweat without its namesake, digging into tunes with enough force to rattle the ice cubes in your drink.

First came “Dance to the Music,” an exuberant romp with high-stepping guitar licks.

Then came “Everyday People,” an egalitarian anthem that quickens heart rates like caffeine does.

There was “Hot Fun in the Summer Time,” but there was no Sly.

Even the trombonist took a turn at the mic at one point.

Fifteen minutes in, the crowd began to grow as restless as the band’s shifty rhythms.

It looked as if this dry run for a possible reunion tour from this storied bunch would be really dry. Parched, in fact.

But then there he was, all aglitter, looking like a perspiring gemstone, like he’d been covered in an imploded disco ball.

Sporting a bright-red sequined jacket, oversized shades and shiny black boots, the notoriously reclusive Sly Stone materialized like the ghost of R&B’s past, a funk forebear who’s finally come out of hiding.

Ambling onstage with a pump of the fist, Sly leaned into his keyboard hard and gripped the mic with both hands, as if he were strangling the life out of a mortal enemy.

Beginning with a loose-limbed waltz, Sly slowly worked himself into the set, seemingly acknowledging his initial stiffness.

“Is anyone here as old as me?” Sly, 64, asked with a sigh and a chuckle. “It’s been a long day.”

It was an unlikely setting for a comeback like this. The band performed at the cozy Flamingo Showroom after comedian George Wallace’s show.

“Tonight, we’re makin’ history here,” Wallace announced before Sly and Co. took the stage.

That may be a bit of a stretch.

Sly’s voice didn’t shine nearly as bright as his wardrobe, and he was occasionally out of sync with the rest of the band, struggling to keep pace, like a runner with a pulled hamstring.

Still, he seemed to be enjoying the moment, stomping his feet to the beat, gesticulating like a cop directing traffic.

“I want to thank you for the party,” he sang. “I want to thank you for letting me be myself.”

Throughout his relatively brief time on stage, Sly was loose and good-humored, flashing the ever-ready smile of a used car salesman, attempting to explain his long absence from the public eye. Except for a brief appearance at the Grammys last year, Sly hadn’t performed with the band since the late ’80s.

“I been makin’ babies,” he announced.

Back in action, Sly and his band mates roared through standards like “Family Affair” with the emphasis on torque, rather than finesse.

Then there was a climactic “I Want to Take You Higher,” rendered a boisterous jam with some furious sax playing and Sly karate-chopping the air as the crowd danced in the aisles.

Shortly thereafter, Sly would wave goodbye to the crowd a final time while the band played on.

And then this grinning specter swiftly returned to the shadows from whence he came.


From the LAS VEGAS SUN – April 2:

John Katsilometes on how George Wallace aligned the stars to coerce one big star to perform at Flamingo Las Vegas

On April Fools’ Day, George Wallace had the best “gotcha” of all.

“April Fools! Sly Stone showed up!” Wallace said with a loud laugh on Sunday, which was not just April Fools’ Day but a day after Wallace beat the odds by booking the latest version of Sly and The Family Stone for a performance at the Flamingo Las Vegas Showroom. The one-out performance followed Wallace’s usual 10 p.m. (or in this case, 10:30 p.m.) stand-up act at before a packed house of about 500.

Amid widespread skepticism that the performance would not transpire, Stone did show up as promised, sauntering onstage after his band played a four-song medley and moving like a bedazzled praying mantis. Stone, still mischievous at age 64, dressed for the occasion, donning a black sequined suit with black platform shoes and red heels, a red sequined shirt, a black belt with a giant rectangular plate reading “Sly,” a black stocking cap, a neck brace and big, white Dolce & Gabbana shades.

That neck brace was not for show, and is a serious concern. Ken Roberts, Stone’s original manager who worked with the artist from 1968-74, said during the show that for the past two years Stone has had a growth on the back of his neck that has gone untreated because Stone fears visiting a doctor. Thus, he was hunched over like a question mark and appeared uncommonly frail.

Nonetheless, Stone stayed for about half an hour, poking at the synthesizer and running through many of the band’s funk anthems, including “Stand,” “Family Affair,” “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” “If You Want Me To Stay” and “Higher.” His voice was strong and he seemed charged up at the experience, even moving to the edge of the stage to greet his amped-up fans.

According to Roberts, it was Stone’s first Vegas show since a 1972 appearance at the Las Vegas Convention Center . Stone’s long history of cocaine addiction, erratic behavior and arrests stemming from a combination of the two had reduced him to a virtual recluse for two decades. But Wallace doggedly pursued the artist, primarily through Stone’s sister and backup vocalist Vet , to perform in the same capacity as have Jerry Seinfeld, Cedric the Entertainer, Chris Tucker and Earl Turner, among others, as part of Wallace’s showcase.

Of course, Stone is a special case, and Wallace kept track of the funk master until the rest of the band hit town Saturday afternoon. One source said Wallace spent much of Saturday telling a hung-over Stone jokes to keep him pacified, but Wallace said he was only making sure the performer was “kept comfortable” in his suite.

EcoVillage talk by Albert Bates, author of THE POST PETROLEUM SURVIVAL GUIDE AND COOKBOOK: RECIPES FOR CHANGING TIMES

Please see http://www.laecovillage.org for more details
—————————————-
S u n d a y , M a r c h 2 5, 2 0 0 7 a t 8 p m

THE POST PETROLEUM SURVIVAL GUIDE AND COOKBOOK: RECIPES FOR CHANGING TIMES
(New Society Publishers)

A book talk and slide show with Albert Bates, founder of the Ecovillage
Training Center at The Farm in Tennessee and the Global Village Institute

at

L.A. Eco-Village, 117 Bimini Pl., LA 90004 *
$10 (self selected sliding scale okay)
Reservations please: 213/738-1254 or crsp@igc.org

Interviews and book reviews about Albert and his new book:
http://www.newsociety.com/bookid/3927
http://newsoutherner.com/dog-eared_interview.htm
http://www.aliciabaylaurel.com/postpetroleumsurvivalguide

Here’s what others are saying about Albert’s book:

This book is like a Swiss army knife. Sharp. Simple. Very practical.
Extremely useful. Full of survival tools, which you may need in the next
five minutes or five years from now. — Dr. Valentin Yemelin, climate
scientist at the United Nations Environment Programme/GRID-Arendal, Norway.

In the Post Petroleum Survival Guide and Cookbook, Albert Bates
demonstrates with great clarity and panache that if you love this
planet, you must change your life. — Dr. Helen Caldicott, pediatrician
and author of If You Love This Planet: A Plan to Heal the Earth

This really is the book we’ve been waiting for — a practical,
optimistic guide to life beyond the peak — to its ingenious,
resourceful and common-sense possibilities as well as to its inevitable
challenges.- Rob Hopkins, TransitionCulture.org

With luck, we will never need to know how to throw together an expedient
fallout shelter, but this book tells us how, and what to stock it with.
These are indeed Recipes for Changing Times — very tasty food for
thought! – John Pike, Director of GlobalSecurity.org, member of the US
Council on Foreign Relations.