scene but not herd

Saturday I saw the Rodney Bingenheimer documentary MAYOR OF THE SUNSET STRIP for the second time. I was really blown away the first time I saw it at a film festival last year and I was still blown away at this recent viewing. This site is quickly becoming very nostalgic, but I remember first hearing Rodney in 1980 on KROQ in Los Angeles when it was still an interesting radio station. I was twelve and just discovering punk rock and alternative music and that radio station and, more specifically, Rodney's show were a godsend to me. I remember hearing Minor Threat, The Germs, X, and so many other punk bands for the first time on his radio show. Amongst all the hardcore songs I also heard The Seeds, The Standells, and other sixties bands for the first time. Because of Rodney I would stay up until three in the morning watching movies like RIOT ON THE SUNSET STRIP and PSYCH OUT which featured a lot of those sixties bands. Because of Rodney I would also become quite the anglophile because this is where I first heard Siouxsie and the Banshees, Generation X, Echo and the Bunnymen, and so many other English bands. I'm trying to remember if his show was on both Saturday and Sunday nights, but regardless I know I was sitting in front of the stereo listening to it religiously. Nowadays I hardly ever listen to the show because it is only on Sundays from midnight to three a.m. The fact that it is relegated to this time slot is somewhat sad and this documentary is basically quite sad also. If you've ever listened to Rodney you will know that he is a pretty easy target for ridicule, but I defy anyone to not feel a certain amount of respect for him after seeing this film. There are some really heartbreaking moments in the film, but at the same time there is so much love for music being shown that you can't help but grin from ear to ear. In a world where American Idol rules there probably is no room for Rodney, but for everyone who's ever heard a lyric or a few notes that changed their lives what Rodney does still matters.

Now for something new. Saturday night I went to see the Coachwhips play at the Smell in downtown L.A. They set up their equipment on the floor and churned out some primal punk-blues with the audience literally on top of them. I just really love that fucked up out of control sound.