Always never quite right

Square Pegs castCast and Devo

One of the more profound touchstones of my pop-cultural development was Square Pegs, a short-lived sit-com from 1982 that starred, among others, the people that would be better known as Captain Kirk’s bastard son (so pretty, so tragic) and Carrie Bradshaw (so tiny, so odd-looking).

The show was my first exposure to a number of things that inspired my devotion for years to come, particularly Devo and The Waitresses. Certain phrases from the show still pepper my conversation to this day. Not bad for a show that was only on for half a season twenty-five years ago. What amazes me is that I’ve retained all this stuff about the show, but I couldn’t have actually watched more than an episode or two. But I listened to them all.

In 1982, my family didn’t actually own a TV. The last one had finally broken down altogether, and it was a while before my parents felt the need (or had the wherewithal, perhaps, or some combination of the two) to get another. My sister Ellen, however, had a portable TV/radio that could tune into the audio signal of broadcast TV stations. It was kind of a pain, but better than nothing. (And I’m sure she appreciated being able to keep up with General Hospital as much as I appreciated keeping up with Square Pegs.) Honestly, I can’t even remember what clever bit of marketing inspired me to listen in to a show I couldn’t actually see, but I was hooked pretty instantly.

It’s been odd having such vivid memories of sounds and dialogue without accompanying footage. I know I saw a couple of episodes — probably when spending the night at my friend Eddie’s house — but for the most part my visual memories of the show are more delicate than the rest. Thanks to the magic of YouTube, though, that’s starting to change. Last night I stumbled across the episode I most wished I had seen when it was first on: the one where Devo (Johnny Slash’s 9th favorite band) played at Muffy Tepperman’s New Wave bat mitvah. Bliss!

The scripted jokes and the accompanying laugh track are painful, of course, but there are all kinds of charming little details in there that I still love. I hindsight, I love the quirky, watered-down version of 80s culture that was sanitized for TV, but still hints at interesting things must have inspired it. I love the throwaway gags, like how John Densmore from the Doors is the drummer for Johnny Slash’s band, and how LaDonna, the cool black chick, can identify gefilte fish that came out of a jar. And even now, Devo still seems beautifully eccentric.

The WaitressesAnd here’s a bonus for you: the ass-kicking theme for the show by The Waitresses: Square Pegs (buy more)

Since I never actually saw the Square Pegs pilot (just listened to it), I never saw the Waitresses perform, and for years I mixed them up with the equally sassy Josie Cotton, who performed in another other pinnacle of watered-down 80s New Wave teen comedy, Valley Girl. (My obsession for that movie and its soundtrack is a story for another day, perhaps.) But they’re like totally different. Totally!

Extra bonus: the first song performed by Johnny Slash’s band, Open 24 Hours:

Temporary separation

The early days in Bushwick

People are always surprised to hear that I haven’t been homesick all year. Although there are lots of things — and certainly lots of people — that I miss, I was really ready to leave the States, and in particular to leave New York. I’m notoriously nomadic and it’s certainly possible that I’ll feel like settling in New York again, but it will be a while.

Last night I heard this LCD Soundsystem song that put its finger on some of what drove me away:

LCD Soundsystem — New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down (buy it)

The Matter of Anti-Matter

Oh, and in my free time time this year I designed a book, too. It’s also my first design project to get its own MySpace page, since it’s about indy music stuff and the music folks apparently use the MySpace once in a while. It’s by my good friend Norm, and you should buy it.

Anti-Matter

Seriously, though, it’s a fantastic read, especially if you have any interest at all in hardcore and post-punk bands of the ’90s. (If you do, you probably know who Norm is anyway.) Anti-Matter was a zine he published that featured these amazing, insightful, totally natural interviews with a bunch of great bands. Norm had (well, still has) an amazing ability to get past the party line and get people to really talk to him, and that honesty is what makes these collected interviews so engaging, even if — like me — you might only be familiar with a few of the bigger names included.

And the photography! I haven’t seen the book in print yet, but if they reproduced the photos well then this is even more of a must-have for anyone into that era’s scene. Seriously, just buy it.

The Bionic Nun

Oscar and Jaime

There are so many reasons why The Bionic Woman is an all-time favorite of mine. And that was before I remembered there was an episode where Jaime poses as a nun to uncover a diamand-and-heroin smuggling ring operating out of the winery at a convent.

The nuns save the day!

TV in the seventies wasn’t better, really, but it was certainly simpler.

Sister Jaime explains it all for you

Of course, if you have any memories of the show at all, you were probably traumatized by the same images that have haunted me all these years…

Continue reading “The Bionic Nun”

Kiki and Herb Died for Us

Did anybody else get their 2-CD set of the Kiki and Herb Carnegie Hall Show yet? I just ripped open the package and threw it on, and it’s amazing! I’m quivering in delight. I’ve been anxiously awaiting it — especially since I kept running into its producer, who kept giving me updates, and one day even taunted me with the knowledge that he was carrying the only master copy in his bag at that moment. Jerk.

But he was right, it turned out really well, and it was a great decision to turn the microphones on the crowd a lot. I’ve never heard a live recording that quite captures the thunder of an adoring, devoted crowd quite like this. If you were there, you might feel chills all over again. If you weren’t there, you’ll wish you were. If you don’t get it, you probably never will.

But here’s a taste:

Total Eclipse of the Heart — Kiki and Herb, Live at Carnegie Hall, September 19, 2004

Long Live Kiki and Herb

Kiki & Herb Will Die For You

If the conservatives really wanted to eliminate the subversive homosexual menace, the best way to do it would be to blow up Carnegie Hall tonight, where a great throng of us (and a great many sympathizers, no doubt) will be gathered to honor our beloved, bedeviled Kiki and Herb.

Originally, I’d decided not to splurge on tickets for the show, since I had seen them so often from mere inches away and couldn’t imagine enjoying the spectacle quite as much from across a concert hall. When I first heard about this show, though, I didn’t quite realize it was supposed to be not just the biggest, but the last show (except maybe there’ll be a Kiki & Herb Resurrection Special someday). When Andy informed me of this, and mentioned he had two extra tickets, I knew I couldn’t miss such an event, even if I had to experience it from the cheaper seats.

It’s been nice to see the Times giving some press to Kiki/Justin and Herb/Kenny this week. I was startled to see the interview mention the infamous “Last Thursday Ever” show, which remains one of the most visceral theatrical experiences of my life. (It was also the first time I saw the Scissor Sisters, and even though they were fun I still find all the fuss a little inexplicable.) I’m amazed how many people seem to remember being at one of the two tiny, drunken shows at the Knitting Factory that night. I remember all the usual suspects being there — including Glenn, who couldn’t have gotten a better introduction to the terrifying magic of Kiki and Herb — but I regularly meet people who also caught that show and were more than usually affected by its darkness and cynicism, and its surprising call to count your blessings in a troubled world. And the drunken fan kicks, of course, were hard to forget if you were too close to the stage.

As a special treat for those of you who love Kiki and Herb but are sick to death of listening to your copy of Do You Hear What We Hear?, may I offer this brilliant recording of Kiki performing at the Losers Lounge 1996 Nilsson tribute (taken from Simply Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad About the Loser’s Lounge):

Coconut — The Losers Lounge featuring Justin Bond as Miss Kiki DuRane