Showing posts with label rock 'n' roll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock 'n' roll. Show all posts

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Sunday Paper on a Saturday Night (a.k.a. Sunday Supplement 11/17/13)


Still the real deal, Lucille. Order up!

Cribbed this one from Too Much Horror Fiction: Stephen King, Peter Straub, Charlie Grant, Karl Edward Wagner, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, Whitley Streiber, Alan Ryan, and Dennis Etchison on the State of Horror, circa 1983. If you cut your fangs reading during this era, hearing these writers talk (especially about bad books) is fun fun fun 'til your daddy takes the surfin' hearse away. Guaranteed to make you nostalgic for the age of the black-spine paperback original with the screaming skeleton cover model (and you can find plenty of those over at Too Much Horror Fiction, too).

An American FrankenFlashback: The Outsider.

Yes. Now there are (officially) too many t-shirts in the world.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Sunday Supplement 10/13/13



Lon Chaney said: "There's nothing funny about a clown in the moonlight." Apparently, there's nothing funny about a clown on a box of breakfast cereal, either. Forget Famous Monsters of Filmland, and Aurora monster models, and Vampira and Bob Wilkins. It's stuff like this that gave birth to a generation of Monsterkids. Really. A couple spoonfuls of Sugar Rice Krinkles and every kid around the table looked just like this:


Speaking of Ray Russell (and sardonic grins), test-drive this personal assessment of writerly motivation: "I would say... ego, guilt, boredom, a love of language, and the desire to entertain myself. I think it was William Saroyan who said he wrote so that he would have something good to read in his old age. That's not a bad reason."

Okay. I kind of doubt this is a kosher product, but I couldn't pass it up. "Oh, Chick!" I bought the coffee cup, too.

Macabre Republic visits the haunted Hudson Valley. Man, those are some serious Jacks!


For my $$$$$, Mondo Zombie Boogaloo is just another way of spelling "2013 Halloween Essential." Some great tracks here courtesy of Yep Roc Records; I'm already addicted to "Theme from Young Frankenstein" and "Theme from Halloween" carved up and surf-stitched and electrified into mean new monsters by Los Straitjackets. Plus "Tingler Blues" and "Demon Death" from Southern Culture on the Skids -- the latter is a mean little short story of a song with a Deadbolt vibe. Nevie Rose's faves are "Que Monstruos Son" ("Dad! It's 'Monster Mash'! In Spanish!" *) and "Goo Goo Muck." And, hey, you can never go wrong with any version of "Monster Surfing Time." That's just boss, hoss.

And last but (hopefully) not least, an American Frankenpost Flashback: Five Favorite Universal Horrors for Halloween. You don't have to wait for the big day, though... it never hurts to get an early start on your Halloween viewing.


* Viva hombre lobo... and Morticia, too!

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Sunday Supplement 11/13/11

Some songs get stuck in your head... and this is the one that's been in mine all week. I loved the Beat Farmers, and "Riverside" has a halfway spooky vibe that you'd sometimes find in songs by fellow traveler artists like Dave Alvin and Los Lobos. That's the good dark stuff, amigo.

Of course, "Riverside" isn't a Country Dick song, but you can't mention the Farmers without tipping your hat in his direction. Here are Country Dick Montana's Rules of the Road for bands on tour. My favorite: "Do not take souvenirs from the crypt of a voodoo queen -- remember that zombies are even worse drives than drunks."

And speaking of voodoo queens, check out the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry on the tomb of Marie Laveau. Plenty of other interesting articles on this site, too (though some of 'em are as dry as a desiccated voodoo queen).

A few of you have asked me for a book recommendation, re: Joe Frazier. My pick is Ghosts of Manila by Mark Kram. It's not only a great study of Frazier (and Ali), but it's one of the very best books I've ever read about the sweet science (and I have read more than a few).

Smokin' Joe. Philly Soul. You can bet your last money it's a stone gas, honey.