December 01, 2004

EVEN RICHARD NIXON GETS THE BLUES

Little notes:

Coloring Club was a snappy time. I colored a picture of Nixon, a picture of a nursing mom and a picture of a woman in a hard hat. Nixon, I re-did with markers, turned him into a nun-nurse in a conical hat.

Secondly: Los Angeles. When I left that city, it was a swamp city. It was old and tired and remixes were the hot shit - it was 1996 or 7. Jabberjaw closed down and people were moving to the city of tattoos, nazi surf punx, sailors and bands with oil slick hair - San Diego. LA was so snuffed that San Diego seemed cool. Meanwhile, LA seems to have reclaimed it's most fiery Day Of The Locust grim vigor, and alas, the sun never sets on hedonism, and everyone seems to be waiting for the trickle down into their cups. Here, in the midwest, the last strains of the coiffiture that came back with The Rapture 12" and copius yayo intake, seem to be losing steam, and the stee of being fake-rich, genuine slutty and a marginal DJ are falling with the mercury. Part of the reason I love the midwest, and all the midwest kids that move here from Crystal Lake and Iowa City and Louisville - is that Chicago, it's bars, it's surplus of shows, it's anonymity -- it's a big enough dream. And if you want a dream bigger than that, if you show some careerist, naked agression and animus to achieve, to make it in a bigger city, on a coast people tend to dismiss you, scoff at your delusions of grandeur, talk low on the barstool about the bigness of your britches.

Personally, I am a little more partial to the pathos of the midwestern good time than the good time hotties on the Cahuenga Boogie aka the Gemmorah 2004 After Party.

Posted by Jessica at December 1, 2004 11:17 PM | TrackBack