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Lee and Moon and Galaxie 500

Lee Moses
A week ago, my little brother sent me a link to Lee Moses’s time and place. “I’m not big on downloading boots,” I said. He said something like, this record is impossible to find and it’s impossible not to love. He also said the reissue was so limited it’s impossible to find, too, and what’s the point of reissuing anything a limited edition? Isn’t that why you reissue a rare record? So everyone could enjoy it? (apparently 500 copies is what I could come up with.) I agreed with him and grabbed the record and I’m really glad I did. It’s really something special.

It was so hot in LA today I decided to avoid the heat, even if it set me back $14.50…so I caught Moon. Again, kudos to Little Bro, cause he saw it last week and told me to see it ASAP. Imagine Phillip K. Dick slamming headfirst into 2001: A Space Odyssey. Imagine someone much better than I coming up with a better way to talk sensibly about the film — it shouldn’t be too difficult. Anyway, I really liked it. Duncan Jones directed Moon, but I like his birth name much better: Zowie Bowie.

Speaking of reissues, immediately after Moon I walked across the street to Amoeba and picked up Galaxie 500’s Today, On Fire, and This Is Our Music. I’m a big Luna fan, and I really didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to Galaxy 500 the first time around. I wish I did.

I also grabbed Dial “S” For Sonny and Mississippi Records’ latest Bishop Perry Tillis. All great stuff.

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Wilco.

Wilco -- the record

Wilco is streaming their new record called Wilco. You can listen to it right now…which I’d highly recommend.

I got hip to Wilco right about the time Being There was released. This was ’97, I think. I was in grad school, living in San Fransisco…and writing a whole bunch. I was living in a tiny room off Taylor Street in the TenderNob — right where the ‘Loin and Nob Hill meet.

I didn’t catch them live until their Sky Blue Sky tour. I went to their show at the Greek in Berkeley. Hours before I scored a nice, clean copy of Bud Powell’s Bud! (Blue Note 1571) from Peter Howard at his store Serendipity. I paid him a sawski for it.

As in 5 clams.

As in My Big Bargain of 2007.

If you hunt around at Peter’s store, go right to the flat files and scour them for broadsides and other weird ephemera. He has all sorts, and it’s really reasonably priced…although you’d never know what it’s priced, cause he doesn’t price most of that stuff. You just have to bring it up to him, and he prices it on the spot. Make sure you catch him in a good mood for the very best price (ie after the Giants win).

Someone set a day aside last month and called it “Record Store Day”. I don’t know who dreamnt it up. Did you hear about this? Indie record stores got all sorts of cool stuff in which you could only buy there — at your local indie shop.

Ashes of American Flags was Wilco’s contribution to Record Day, and it wasn’t even a record. It’s a DVD featuring three different shows with commentary in between some of the songs. It was totally sold out at Amoeba, which is where I shop most of the time for records while I’m in LA. In fact, most of the Record Store Day swag at Amoeba’s was long gone when I showed up the following Monday after Record Store Day. I did manage to find one last weekend when I went home to Phoenix for Mother’s Day. I also scored a great Pavement record, as well as a Dylan 45 of a new song, and a Flaming Lips 45, too.

Ashes of American Flags is most excellent.

I like the new record, too…but don’t ask me anything about Wilco and expect anything other than “it’s great!”, cause — as far as I’m concerned — Tweedy and Crew can do no wrong.

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The Los Angeles Festival of Books

The LA Festival of Books

April whizzed by and me — without a blog entry for the month.

Can I make some time in May for anything synaesthesia?

I did make it to the LA Festival of Books. It was great. I went two days in a row, cause I needed that much time to check it all out. Plus, the first day I walked around the campus with no direction, just taking all that Academia in; so, a lot of the time I was just in the middle of UCLA and no where near the books.

Publishers were there. Booksellers were there. Even radio stations were there.
McSweeney’s had a booth. So did Ammo.Vroman’s was there, as well as some used and out-of-print dealers I’ve never heard of before.

The Buddhists had a booth, and they handed out all sorts of fun stuff, and it was all free. Of course they were super friendly and didn’t try to cram anything down my throat.

The Scientologists were there, and their booth had three sets of E-Meters buzzing, and I was going to have my friend Debbie take a picture of me submitting to one of their tests, or quizzes, or whatever it is you submit yourself to while clutching their E-Meter, but I decided not to. I was gonna toss the pic up on my Facebook and write some witty caption about the whole experience, and as I was talking to Debbie about snapping the pic, one of the Scientologists actually approached me to take their test.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna try and brainwash me,” I said in a very friendly way. I know it might sound offensive, and I made sure she knew that wasn’t my intent. But The Scientologist kinda picked up on where I was going with my joke, and all of a sudden she got kinda creepy and weird making fun of herself — which meant I definitely didn’t want to take the E-Meter Scientology Quiz.

The Muslims had a booth, and they handed out all sorts of fun stuff, and it was all free. They were super friendly, too, and they didn’t try to cram anything down my throat.

There wasn’t a Christian Booth; however, near the Food Court one Christian lady was screaming and yelling at everyone who passed by, and she was yelling about how God took us all out the first time with water, and this time it was gonna be way worse — cause He’s gonna use fire. And it’s going to happen very soon. The Christian Lady wasn’t friendly at all, and she didn’t hand out a thing.

The people-watching was almost as good as all the books.

One of the girls at the McSweeney’s booth was really cute, so I bought a copy of Bowl of Cherries by Millard Kaufman just to make some more small talk with her.

Next to the McSweeney’s booth there was 826 Valencia, which is McSweeney’s program to help young writers (middle schoolers and high schoolers) with after-school programs in the inner-city. I donated twenty bucks.

I think my very favorite part of the whole weekend were The Nicotines, a two-girl combo consisting of an accordion player and another on the saw.

I spent more money than I should have, but you already know that.

The Nicotines at the LA Festival of Books

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Paris in the Spring.

Shakespeare & Co. Paris France

It ain’t really all that it’s cracked up to be…at least not weather wise. Cold and rainy and cold and windy, but hey, it’s Paris, and I’m OK with that.

Mainly cause it keeps the vast majority of tourists out of here for another few weeks, which meant I only spent 10 minutes (or so) waiting to get into the d’Orsay…which ruled. Cause come May — and certainly by June — that line is an easy hour.

I hit Shakespeare & Co. first thing each and every time I come to Paris. It’s the bookstore I love to hate. But I really don’t hate it.

As it stands now, this is not where Sylvia Beach published James Joyce; in fact, the original store owned by Beach was closed by WWII. Beach did give George Whitman permission to use the name, and the first time I went to Paris (May of 97) George was behind the counter, and I gave him a few copy of Blessing Poems, The Mollifier, and maybe The Man With The Buzzer in his Throat.

“If you want to put a few of these on your shelf, I’d appreciate it. And you don’t have to pay me anything for them…just take them, and if you actually sell them, that’s great.”

George looked at them, and he thanked me, and then he asked, “Would you like to stay here? I’ve got some room for you upstairs.”

It’s true. Up in his lending library he maintained a few beds where he let people crash. Still happens to this day.

I was very grateful, but I passed. I had a place nearby. The idea certainly appealed to me, though, and I wish I woulda taken him up on it now. But I didn’t.

George is in his mid-nineties now, and he’s retired, and his daughter — Sylvia Beach Whitman — runs the joint. Which is why I say it’s the store I love to hate. Cause she’s turned it into a trendy tourist attraction. When I walked in yesterday, there was a photographer snapping pics of Sylvia Whitman, while one of her employees played piano to the oogling tourists…who have no idea about George, or the store’s history, or Sylvia Beach.

I sound like a book snob. And an asshole. Besides, the place is way cleaner than it was the first time I shopped there, and the rare book room really has rare books in it; I bet the store does better than it ever has, so I’ll shut the fuck up.

And talk about the booksellers on the Seine.

Cause I love them.

They set up shop right there on the Seine in these little green lock box / kiosks. Some of them peddle silly trinkets like little plastic Eiffel Tower statues and t-shirts; others have really interesting books and records. Some peddle porn, comics, and plates from from old books; there’s vellum pages from Bibles Monks copies by hand and great old French jazz magazines.

I want to sell books out of one of those little green kiosks along the Seine, where I can sip lattes all day long while I watch the girls walk along the river.

Seine Bookseller

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In Memorium: Lawrence Hyde

Since emerging from my hiatus, I just learned Larry Hyde passed away.

I found out about Larry’s passing from this PBA Gallery auction…not the best way to learn of a friend’s passing, but what is?

I never met the man face-to-face, but we maintained a correspondence.

His letters of encouragement and his praise of my work meant a lot to me.

Larry Hyde was a friend and a patron of the arts and I will miss him very much.