|  
                       BLASTITUDE: 
                        your 
                        online tip sheet for all blasting underground guh 
                      
                         
                           
                             
                              "Blastitude" 
                              is a word coined by Angus MacLise, original drummer 
                              of the Velvet Underground and quite possibly the 
                              coolest hippie of all time. (cf. track four of his 
                              posthumous CD release The Invasion of Thunderbolt 
                              Pagoda, released by Siltbreeze/Quakebasket. 
                              Click HERE 
                              for immediate cf'ing.) 
                           | 
                            | 
                           
                              
                              
                              (or 
                              just click on Angus) 
                           | 
                         
                       
                      The 
                        Fine Print. 
                        (You can come back to it later.) 
                        Just by way of introduction, this here is a WEB 
                        ZINE, focusing on but not limited to underground 
                        music. As far as I'm concerned, it's a ROCK 'n' ROLL ZINE, 
                        as long as we're all in agreement that rock has already 
                        suffered death through overpackaging about 3 times: in 
                        1959, when (but not because) Elvis joined the Army, around 
                        oh 1969 as the post-Beatles-and-'San Francisco' (the concept 
                        not the city) wave of mass-marketed 'love rock' started 
                        faltering, to be put out of its misery about a year later 
                        at Altamont, after which rock'n'roll stayed dead for a 
                        much longer time, throughout the 70s when disco and funk 
                        gave us a rather refreshing 'mass-market popular music' 
                        alternative to loud and passive arena rock...okay, that's 
                        two deaths....and we all know Death Number Three: when 
                        rock's 'bloated corpse' was somewhat revived in the Nineties 
                        by the career of Nirvana, which for a brief moment elevated 
                        such pockets of the underground as SST Records and the 
                        Olympia scene (Melvins, K Records, Bikini Kill, as distinct 
                        from the more 'above-ground' Seattle scene with which 
                        Nirvana ended up as full-time associates).  
                                   
                        Inherently enough, this resurgence was dead within just 
                        a couple years at the hand of -- you guessed it -- the 
                        You-Are-Watching-Big-Brother marketing-values steamroller 
                        that is MTV. In a sort of unconscious payola, the Most 
                        Awful Channel In The History of Channel-Flipping soon 
                        had FM radio stations all across America switching from 
                        their bland classic rock/smooth oldies/whatever format 
                        to a bland carbon-copy 'alternative' or 'modern' rock 
                        format featuring an 'edgy' playlist of 'grunge' and 'modern 
                        rock' and 'alternative' like the Lincoln/Omaha market's 
                        truly disgusting "101.9 The Edge." These stations 
                        featured sneering DJ's who put the jock in disc jockey 
                        while disgracing the airwaves with cookie-cutter music 
                        by the inevitable slew of photogenic imitators, as well 
                        as the increasingly dispirited followup singles byNirvana 
                        and other forefathers like Nine Inch Nails, Pearl Jam, 
                        and Soundgarden. Treat a person like a rube and they might 
                        just start behaving like one, and sure enough American 
                        rubes who listen to the radio 'cause they got nuthin' 
                        better to do started showing up en masse to concerts by 
                        these suddenly reluctant hipster slackers. Unable to live 
                        with himself as the inventor of Modern Rock Radio and 
                        an "Alternative" culture lorded over by young 
                        American jocks, Kurt Cobain killed himself and took rock'n'roll 
                        with him for it's third death. (It seems there's always 
                        a single decisive blow in the death of rock, a single 
                        act of violence like a plane crash or a murder at a festival 
                        or an overdose or yeah, a suicide....these blows aren't 
                        what actually kills rock each time -- that would 
                        be mass marketing tactics -- but they're always there 
                        to put a period on things, to seal the metaphorical envelope.) 
                                  And 
                        of course, we should all be in agreement that rock has 
                        also been ALIVE the whole damn time, straight through, 
                        in the 'underground,' it's just that things 'underground' 
                        are almost totally invisible, unless you pick a spot and 
                        get down there and grub and root along with the ants, 
                        grubs, worms, punks, Trout Mask Replica fans, and 
                        etc.  
                       
                        Pertinent definitions of "blast" =  
                        "the sound produced by an impulsion of air through 
                        a wind instrument or whistle" 
                        "something resembling a gust of wind" 
                        "an explosion or violent detonation" 
                        "SPEED, CAPACITY, OPERATION" 
                        "an enjoyably exciting experience, occasion, or event; 
                        esp: PARTY." 
                        "BLARE (music ~ing from the radio)" 
                        "to make a vigorous attack" 
                        "to remove, open, or form as if by an explosive" 
                        "to hit vigorously and effectively" 
                                           the 
                        above excerpted from Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary 
                        (Tenth Edition, 1994)  
                      Some 
                        more pertinent and, ahem, less academic uses of the word 
                        "blast": 
                         
                        SST Records: 
                         THE 
                        BLASTING CONCEPT was the name of a series of various 
                        artists LP released by SST Records in the Mid-Eighties. 
                        (Volume 2 pictured.) Here the word refers to the vigorous 
                        and creative post-punk spirit with which the music on 
                        the LP is made. Music as a way to have a blast (i.e. "an 
                        enjoyably exciting experience, occasion, or event; esp: 
                        PARTY," cf. above) by making a blast (i.e. blasting 
                        out some music). 
                         
                         
                       
                      Jack 
                        Kerouac, On The Road: 
                         'Once 
                        there was Louis Armstrong blowing his beautiful top in 
                        the muds of New Orleans; before him the mad musicians 
                        who had paraded on official days and broke up their Sousa 
                        marches into ragtime. Then there was swing, and Roy Eldridge, 
                        vigorous and virile, blasting 
                        the horn for everything it had in waves of power and logic 
                        and subtlety--leaning to it with glittering eyes and a 
                        lovely smile and sending it out broadcast to rock the 
                        jazz world. Then had come Charlie Parker, a kid in his 
                        mother's woodshed in Kansas City, blowing his taped-up 
                        alto among the logs, practicing on rainy days, coming 
                        out to watch the old swinging Basie and Benny Moten band 
                        that had Hot Lips Page and the rest--Charlie Parker leaving 
                        home and coming to Harlem, and meeting mad Thelonius Monk 
                        and madder Gillespie--Charlie Parker in his early days 
                        when he was flipped and walked around in a circle while 
                        playing. Somewhat younger than Lester Young, also from 
                        KC, that gloomy, saintly goof in whom the history of jazz 
                        was wrapped; for when he held his horn high and horizontal 
                        from his mouth he blew the greatest; and as his hair grew 
                        longer and he got lazier and stretched-out, his horn came 
                        down halfway; till it finally fell all the way and today 
                        as he wears his thick-soled shoes so that he can't feel 
                        the sidewalks of life his horn is held weakly against 
                        his chest, and he blows cool and easy getout phrases. 
                        Here were the children of the American bop night.' 
                         
                        Terry 
                        Southern:  
                        “The important thing in writing is the capacity to astonish. 
                        Not shock—shock is a worn-out word—but astonish. The world 
                        has no grounds for complacency. Where you find something 
                        worth blasting, I want to blast it.”  
                                                                                                                                                    
                      BLASTITUDE 
                        will be published on the 23rd of 
                        each month...or every other month. We're not sure yet. 
                        If we go monthly, some issues may be kinda slight, but 
                        back issues will always remain online. Since the 'fast-paced' 
                        web isn't supposed to be for reading, and Blastitude offers 
                        lots of reading, it might take you two months to get through 
                        all this bullcrap anyhow. Either way, thanks for blasting 
                        in. 
                        (If this is cyberspace, rather than, um, the cybersea 
                        shouldn't we be 'blasting' around the internet, like in 
                        rockets or spaceships, instead of 'surfing' the net?) 
                        Letters, recommendations, complaints, 
                        submissions: blastitude@hotmail.com 
                        Any music/tapes/books/artifacts/records/documents 
                        for consideration should be mailed to Blastitude 
                        at 1136 A Street #2, Lincoln, NE 68502 
                         
                      editor, 
                        designer, collater, curator, writer: Larry "Fuzz-O" 
                        Dolman  
                        "Things To Come, Elephant Boy" by Charles Lieurance 
                        "Inklings and Musings" by Brad Sonder 
                        BLASTITUDE #1 © 2000  
                        Published by Tiny Press 
                       |