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The recordings were found in an apartment in Greenwich Village, and are being hailed as a “major discovery”
Earlier this year an incredible piece of music history was discovered in Greenwich Village. Tucked away in a closet at 124 West Houston were 149 unknown acetate records, made and used by Bob Dylan.
Dylan, who lived only blocks away at 94 McDougal Street, used the ground floor of 124 W. Houston as a studio in the ’60s and ’70s, according to a post on Recordmecca.com by Jeff Gold. Buzzfeed reported that the space was used by Dylan from 1969 to 1972.
(John Waters hanging out in Danny Fields’ NYC apartment in 1973)
By: Amy Haben
About two years ago, I was bartending at B-Side bar in Alphabet City and my pal Colin came in for a beer. I asked him what he’s been up to and he proudly exclaimed, “I hitchhiked from here to California and back!”
I was amazed, ” You did that?! Weren’t you scared you’d get murdered?!”
He told me that everyone was really cool that picked him up, but he brought a girl along for extra security. I told him that I wanted to go with him next time. Then I had a great idea. “What if we hitchhiked from New York to Baltimore and found John Waters’ house and interviewed him!”
I thought Mr. Waters would surely be proud of our crazy ambition and grant us the time. We could also tape record every conversation with the people that picked us up and write a story to submit to a magazine. Colin agreed to be in on my scheme.
A week later, I was reading some online gossip and saw that John Waters was hitchhiking at that very moment to write a book about his experiences! If that isn’t kismet than i don’t know what is! So when Carsick came out, I was eager to read about John’s adventures.
John’s mission was to hitchhike from his Baltimore, Maryland home to his San Francisco, California abode. As I finished the first few stories of Carsick, I encountered John getting picked up by a sweet drug dealer who gives him millions of dollars in cash to fund his next movie, a middle aged pro-choicer with a anti-abortionist locked in the trunk, and a sexy demolition derby driver named Lucas who asks John to jerk him off while he’s crashing into other hot rods at the destructive competition.
At this point, I got angry. How dare Waters think that his readers are naive enough to believe these liberal fairy tales! He obviously just collected the book advance and stayed home! Hrrumph!
Then I read on the web that the first half is fiction and the second half is the truth and I felt silly. This man made me laugh out loud more than a few times during the faux good and bad rides; Aliens give him and a former porn star magical assholes, he finds himself at a hipster circus where he is named the sideshow freak by having zero tattoos, and he’s forced to rob a bank with a tough exhibitionist who’s carrying a full erection in his tight jeans during the chaos.
I actually got out a highlighter and started coloring in the funniest lines. Such as:
“I remember when Divine first saw Richard Simmons and confessed that he felt homophobic.”
“Dogs don’t want to be home with their owners stuck in some sort of sick S&M relationship, sentenced to a life of caresses!”
“Also, I hate to tell you this, but can’t you see? Your cat hates you.”
“I refuse to look into the face of space rape, so I close my eyes. The rubbery appendage turns me around and begins to unzip my zipper. What the hell, I think; you’ve never been fucked by an extraterrestrial before, go for it.”
“I chuckle to myself, remembering Quentin Tarantino’s hilarious line onstage when I interviewed him for the Provincetown Film Festival. “What was the best thing about your success?” I had asked, and he answered, “Pussy…. no, the memory of pussy.”
I’m amazed by the vile, buckets of spew and degradation that seem to dribble out of Waters’ genius brain. You are happily stunned at the edge he leads you to and then he pushes you off the cliff. It just gets crazier and more extreme. Like the hippie who is so green that he offers up his urine as a thirst quencher which John unknowingly drinks. Or the deranged serial killer who targets cult movie directors. Waters’ stumbles over the mutilated bodies of George Romero and Alejandro Jodorowsky , among others, while the killer’s crooked, nasty cock shoots a load of infected semen into his eyes right before beheading Waters. He goes up to heaven for a second where God whispers, “Catholics were right”, then he proceeds to plunge down to hell to watch ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ on loop for eternity.
The fantasy is always more interesting than the reality. Whether you are day dreaming about your new love interest being your soul mate or imagining building your second house on a remote island after winning the lottery. And as expected, it’s the same in these stories. Waters gets picked up mainly by sweet, hard-working, middle class gentlemen who love their wives dearly. Not exactly fodder for a sex addled, drug fueled, puke friendly, over-the-top shocking John Waters book.
A very funny and entertaining read. I can’t wait for someone to make a movie about it. All the fiction elements are brilliant but the reality of the situation was pretty mundane. Bad food, empty landscapes, motels, obesity, and lonely truckers. Sometimes he would be stranded for nine hours waiting for a ride. It was interesting to notice how many Americans did not know who John Waters. Even when he would throw out his movie titles, only one person remembered him as a Simpsons character and another had heard of the movie Hairspray but wasn’t incredibly impressed. This must have been quite a humbling trip. Luckily, all his rides were caring people who now have a great conversation starter tucked away in their memory rolodex.
Mick Jagger and Dan Aykroyd were in a celebratory mood after screening their James Brown biopic “Get On Up” with producer Brian Grazer in New York. Jagger is a producer on the movie, which opens Aug. 1 and stars Aykroyd, Octavia Spencer and Chadwick Boseman as the legendary Godfather of Soul. Jagger, Aykroyd and Grazer hosted a screening of the movie for the academy on Thursday at Lighthouse Guild.
Speaking to Billboard, the duo discussed the importance of Ramone’s drumming technique to the band’s sound.
“Tommy seemed to me so understated compared to the rest of The Ramones,” said Harry. “But I loved the way he played, and this light, very accessible style made those early songs loved by everyone. He added so much to their recording style and origination that I will mourn them even more now that he’s gone, too.”
Mark Romanek (Never Let Me Go) will direct Overlook Hotel – the Warner Bros prequel to Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining.
The 1980 horror classic, based on the novel by Stephen King, starred Jack Nicholson in one of his most memorable roles. Taking an axe to Shelley Duvall’s bathroom door he utters the immortal line: “Here’s Johnny!”
On set: Assistant cameraman Ennio Guarnieri, Nico Otzak and Federico Fellini on the set of La Dolce Vita, 1960
By Ruth Styles
Elizabeth Taylor, Audrey Hepburn and Brigitte Bardot as you’ve never seen them before: Hollywood greats star in intimate collection of vintage paparazzi photos
Era saw the first paparazzi photographers take to the streets of Rome
Marcello Geppetti took some of the most iconic photos of the era
Paparazzi named after character in Fellini’s 1960 film La Dolce Vita
They’re the bane of A-listers everywhere thanks to their long lenses and gift for catching a celebrity during moments they would rather the public didn’t see but the origin of the paparazzi are more glamorous than the modern incarnation would suggest.
Now a new exhibition is to turn the lens on some of the first paparazzo, who documented the golden age of Italian cinema, provoking outrage from their A-list subjects and adoration from the public who devoured their work.
Homicide/male; in front of I.L.A. Union Hall, 1916-1920
(NYC Municipal Archives)
If you enjoyed the Weegee exhibit at the International Center for Photography you’ll probably like gawking at these grisly (and we MEAN grisly: some are 100% NSFW) crime scene photos that we found in the city’s municipal archives.
I rarely like new music these days. When I say rarely, I mean like a needle in a haystack odds. Besides, The Fat White Family, I can’t find anything else that I truly love. So I asked around. I ran into my young friend, who helped produce the latest David Bowie album, and asked what she’s been listening to that really turns her head. She just produced my own answer, “Nothing much is out there but The Fat White Family.”
We bid farewell to the late Ramones drummer via the best of the band on film, 1974-1978.
“WHEN YOU BOO the Ramones, you are booing rock’n’roll,” so said Supersuckers’ frontguy Eddie Spaghetti. They could be the truest words ever uttered.
Tommy Ramone, who died on Friday (July 11) at the age of 65, was the band’s first official drummer and the cool, streetwise rogue in the shrunken black T-shirt and oversized shades staring out from the cover of that 29-minute-sprint-to-the-finish first album.