Posts Tagged ‘photos’

This puppy was taken at the Use Hearing Protection event at the Paley Center in Beverly Hills this spring, where legendary Factory Records graphic designer Peter Saville made a rare United States appearance. That’s me, shockingly fist-less, on the left (duh) and Jason Feinberg with the crazy mutton chops on the right. I apologize, dude in the middle, who is a friend of Jason’s I just met that night and I have forgotten his name already. But he is from the U.K. and is cool.

I meant to write a review of the event post-mortem, but I never got around to it. Actually, I started writing a post about the whole Los Angeles experience, which is still sitting in my drafts folder entitled “L.A. Story.” One day I will finish it and post it. But the Q&A session was amazing, Saville is quite brilliant, and if you missed it, um, well, you missed it.

Today you get a two-fer. My parents were on a photo binge today and sent my brother Joshua and I photos of … photos. From like 20 years ago. Actually, almost 25. Yipes.

So, here’s Josh and yours truly, circa 1986:

And 20 years later, at a holiday party in 2005:

I know, frightening, right? You should be proud of me for not being afraid to look like an ass, at any age.

Also, please note the “thumbs up” gesture was merely a precursor to The Fist.

Yep, it’s another photo by my pal and ex-partner-in-crime Greg Thilmont from the Gumball 3000 car rally at the Hard Rock Hotel back in ought-six. That’s Chef Kerry Simon next to me, watching Tony Hawk and pals rock some skateboard badassery on the huge half-pipe set up in the casino’s parking lot (interestingly, that lot is now the new Joint theater). We were in the gated safety of the VIP/press area, as I just finished getting quotes from Simon for the story I was writing.

Bonus (because I forgot last time, sorry Greg): The Gumball 3000 video report shot by Greg and poorly narrated/edited by me:

Greg and I did finer work, somewhere else on my YouTube channel.

This one comes courtesy of a crappy scanner. This artifact is from the year 1995, on the day Jason Feinberg and I moved into our first apartment near UNLV. Jason was attending the university at the time, while I merely hung out around the campus and, more specifically, its adjacent coffee shops. We had almost no furniture; I had a bed in my bedroom and a drafting table in the “dining room” that became a computer desk. Jason had bedroom furniture, but also only a computer desk in the “living room.” At some point, a TV appeared, and it may have been located on the floor or a crate. Not sure.

That was the life back then, though. I mean, it’s not like we did a lot of entertaining (that is a lie), but when we did, it was like 20 goth kids at once, and half of them were smoking on the balcony (as was I, above) anyway. Actually, the apartment was nonsmoking until after we started holding weekly meetings of our music collective/record label at the apartment that fall/winter, and eventually frustrated that everyone kept leaving in the middle of the meetings to smoke outside, Jason just said “f*ck it” and declared smoking inside was OK. Which, for me at the time, was just fine.

We paid $600 a month for a two-bedroom, two-bath, 1,000-square-foot apartment back then. Split between two people. Hoo-boy. Try finding a deal like that now.

A classic.

Five-sixths of Theory of Flight with The Fist. Photo by Michael Gaskell / MG Studio

My assault on the local music scene continued last week with a Las Vegas Weekly article about up-and-coming sextet Theory of Flight, whose Dishwalla-meets-30 Second to Mars sound is propelling the band to the next level.

We met for an interview in the green room at the House of Blues before a local music showcase featuring Theory of Flight. The guys were super-accomodating, very honest, earnest and passionate about their music and continued to reinforce just how great most of our local bands can be. In the last month or so, I’ve interviewed a number of groups — all male-dominated, sorry to say, which might be a topic for a future article — and surprisingly, there hasn’t been a douchebag among them. For the most part, these guys get along fabulously, work harder than they play and actually support other bands. I’ve been looking for some drama, but honestly, it’s hard to come by.

I’m optioning a few local acts to profile next for the Weekly, but I’ll be taking a brief detour for my next assignment; however, I’m not telling you about it until the story’s done. I know, I’m such a tease. In the meantime, you have been keeping up with The Utopian webcomic, right? Shit’s about to get heavy.

Photo by Botielus

Today’s random-ass photo comes courtesy avant-garde mixed media artist Cybele, pictured to the left of me in the home-made playing cards dress. You gotta love that kind of creativity. Or fear it. Whatever. This was taken at some sort of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy-sponsored party at Ghostbar atop the Palms in 2006. I don’t know who the other middle-aged ladies are, but they were obviously drawn to my platinum smile. Or something.