Back in the 90s, the family of famed Dead Kennedys screamer Jello Biafra lived just a few blocks away from JonBenét Ramsey‘shouse in Boulder, Colorado. He was in the neighborhood when the famous flaxen-haired six-year-old was brutally slain in 1996.
Why the FBI never interviewed him, the world will never know, but I bet it would have made for hysterical reading.
Instead of lobbying the FBI, I thought I’d conduct my own investigation into the wild world of Jello Biafra, to find out just what he was up to that fateful night… and just who stole that candy cane off their front lawn. His account is below.
Amazing video from 1970 of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe’s book cluttered room in the Chelsea Hotel. This footage appears to be shot by a German film crew in order to make a documentary. Voyeuristically, we follow many diverse personalities under that legendary roof into their personal space. A model, gay couple, drunk piano man, etc.. My favorite part is towards the end, when 24 year old Patti plays with some of Warhol’s silver balloons in a whimsical manner.
We can’t get enough of the goddesses of the rock & roll underworld! As the “good” girls were taking debutante classes or tutoring kids, these temptresses were racking up wild memories living by their own rules.
After nearly twenty years of being Please Kill Me’s bad guy, James Williamson finally wants to clear the air. I talked to him on the eve of the release of his first solo album Re/Licked.
Born in Castroville, Texas and raised in Detroit, he played in the early garage bands the Chosen Few [w/Scott Richardson] and the Coba Seas; joined the Stooges after Funhouse; co-wrote all the songs on Raw Power [and most of their post-Raw Power material] and was never asked to be interviewed by Legs and Gillian for Please Kill Me.
Early preppy. Shirt bought at Mark’s and Spencer. “Mick, its too small!” “Mom, its the look i’m going for! I can’t articulate it yet, but trust me, fifty years from now people on something called the world wide web will be deconstructing it!” Today would they call it “norm core”? Continue reading MICK JAGGER: A LIFE IN CLOTHES→
One particularly dead night in 2005 I was hunching over the bar at The Continental on St. Mark’s and 3rd Avenue, trying to endure some crappy band that was playing on stage. I pushed my earplugs in deeper and peered out the single window in that black hole, wishing for more customers to contribute to my cocaine habit.
Nico’s profound, iconic presence lives on in this performance from 1982 filmed at Preston Warehouse in the U.K. Notice the audience, which is filled with liberty spiked punk rockers, who probably hadn’t been to a mellower show in their lives.