Friday, April 16, 2010
Working on yr Manifesto
The Scene is Now, Burn All Your Records (lala)
If you have a taste for Pavement's artier end, Wire's early years, Pere Ubu ever, Television, Richard Hell, Pixies before they "sold out," setting fires, pillz, Working on yr Manifesto, and the Red Krayola's poppist leanings, get your crooked-rained-upon ass over to the catalog of The Scene is Now. It is NYC dark corner 80's as hell but it is also very, very Now, like the Scene always is. They get cast as a postmodern jug band but I don't hear it. There might be a jug in there, but it does not carry their skinny, disaffected weight.
On the white board of my office I have drawn up a cover of a music book I sorta want to write. It has the word Manifesto in the post-colon subtitle, which should stand as a warning sign to any and all onlookers. Drawing up covers for new books is what I do instead of working on the actual book on which I'm supposed to be working. It's like how I've heard you can distance yourself from the pain of a getting a tattoo by thinking about the next one you are going to get, skipping out on the permanence of now to frolic in the sun-dappled hills with the speculative. Like the band, though, the scene is now and you gotta stay in the scene, hastily sketched as it may be.
The above photo of Philip Glass trying to politely yet expediently leave a room (that's his shoe on the left) was not taken by me (taken by Bill Kelley), but I found it on my phone; its provenance and wavy beauty accidentally extruded from sanctioned art figures make it seem like a Manifesto sort of thing to post.