The Facebook page for The Wrecking Crew posted this Johnny Rivers video as their Flashback Friday, which totally pulled several memories out of my own mental servers, but not because I remembered seeing Mr. Rivers and his double breasted suit on whatever stage that was. One of my ex-boyfriends and I somehow ended up1 having a Johnny Rivers song as our song,2 so for our first anniversary, he gave me a guitar signed by Mr. Rivers.3
Since then, I can’t hear a Johnny Rivers song without thinking about That Guy and That Guitar. A billion calendar pages have passed since his life and my life formed any kind of Venn diagram, so that doesn’t bother me…but if I see Johnny’s name typed neatly on a jukebox title card, I’m damned sure gonna spend my quarter on something else.
1This is what happens when your preferred dating pool is two decades older than you are.
2No, it wasn’t this one.
3He actually signed it twice. Apparently Johnny isn’t great at following directions.
Oh god oh god oh god, are these…are these the sheets that…THAT DAVID BOWIE SLEEPS ON?
Nate Lowman, ‘Snowman’ (2010)
1) I cannot believe that enough people would get down to Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ for it to warrant its own stereotype.
2) Who are those people? That song doesn’t suggest sex as much as it suggests really unsafe roleplay, possibly involving an unsanctioned steeplechase.
3) No one knows what a steelo is, Ginuwine. NO ONE.
4) If you do plan to get down on Valentine’s Day, I strongly suggest “I Got the Hots” by the Soft Boys. That’s what I listened to as I had a surprisingly tender makeout session with a cup of Soup for One.
How the eternally romantic Edvard Munch proposed to his sort-of girlfriend Tulla Larsen. They never actually married and their breakup involved one of them accidentally shooting his middle finger off.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Alex Turner kicks off the Arctic Monkeys show with ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ (at The Fillmore Charlotte)
Several years ago, I was on a flight back from London and—surprise!—was listening to Robyn Hitchcock on iTunes. His newest-at-the-time record was called Goodnight Oslo and when my seatmate saw the title, she nudged me with her elbow and pointed to the screen. “That’s my ex-husband,” she said.
I let my jaw bang into my tray table before stuttering “Um…you were married to Robyn Hitchcock?”
She looked confused. “No,” she said. “Lillebjørn Nilsen.”
It was my turn to look confused. More confused than usual.
After spending several seconds in silence, wide-eyed and open-mouthed like a slow kid who’d fallen for that Got Your Nose trick, she finally explained that her ex was Lillebjørn Nilsen, a pretty prominent Norwegian folk singer. In the eighties, he released a song that shared a title with Robyn and his Venus 3, “Goodnight Oslo” (or Godd Natt Oslo, if you’re into the whole Google translate thing.) ANYWAY, she and I talked about folk and rock and our respective exes for the rest of the flight and stayed in touch for a while after that.
I’d totally forgotten about Lillebjørn until his name came up during Anders Breivik’s trial; apparently one of his songs (a Norwegian translation of a Pete Seeger song, if you want me to lay some Current Events on you) was Breivik’s least favorite in history, so Lillebjørn gathered 40,000 protestors and they sang it outside the courthouse where Breivik was being tried.
In the next seven days, I’ll be seeing Robyn Hitchcock in concert (twice) and flying to Oslo (once) so my brain launched this memory out of one of its battered file cabinets this morning. When people ask me why I travel all the time, this is the kind of thing I want to tell them. This, and the fact that I like to run from my problems, leaving them at least one passport stamp behind me.
If a genie knocked on my door and offered to give me one wish, I’m pretty sure I’d ask for the ability to apply eye makeup like Debbie Harry.
Let’s ignore the reasons why I’m Googling pictures of Graham Nash and instead focus on the fact that he could straight-up pull off a look that was half Royal Shakespeare Company and half Linens-N-Things. Daaaamn.
Sad news about Captain and Tennille. If two people with a shared love of novelty hats, mock turtlenecks and the softest of soft rock can’t keep it together, what chance do the rest of us have?
(Also ‘Do That To Me One More Time’ now sounds like a deeply sarcastic threat.)
I’m pretty sure this is why Etsy was invented. [via]
If the highlight of your Friday night is using a whitening toothpaste, you’re…probably me. Probably.