Y

Another Random Memory about Plastique

I always loved the paintings in Plastique, especially that big X painting behind the bar. Only after Plastique closed did I find out that one of my closest friends, Scott Allen, did all of the paintings in there (and was in a battle to try and get the big X back) and another friend, Randy Killen, helped design and install all of the lights in the club. And I think Randy didn't get paid, or something. There was some sort of scandal around the whole thing, if I recall. One of those "rich kid wants a club of his own, so dad pays for it, but it never actually makes any money" kind of deals.

I don't know why I didn't know that Scott and Randy had been involved until after the fact -- I interacted with both of them almost every day. Weird.

Alas, the best clubs burn bright and then are gone quickly. By Fall of 87, Plastique was no longer the "it" club, and the Ivy Tower -- with its different rooms pumping out different genres, was the new place to be. Sad.

80's Albums of the Hole

What am I missing?

U2-War
REM-Reckoning
Echo and the Bunnymen - Ocean Rain
New Order - Low-Life
Simple Minds - Sparkle In The Rain
OMD - Crush
Depeche Mode - Black Celebration
Oingo Boingo - Dead Man's Party
The Cure - Head In The Door
Go'Go's - Vacation
The Psychadelic Furs - Mirror Moves
Erasure - Wonderland
Primitives - Crash
Hipsway - The Honey Thief
Ultravox - Lament
Smiths - Queen Is Dead
Modern English - Ricochet Days
The Plimsouls - The Plimsouls
Wiretrain - In A Chamber
Red Rockers - China, first album
David Bowie - Let's Dance (hated the album, but a must)
James - Sometimes
UB40 - Rat In The Kitchen
Icicle Works - Icicle Works
Blancmange - first album
Lloyd Cole and Commotions - A Perfect Skin
Duran Duran - Seven and the Ragged Tiger
Siouxie and the Banshees - Dazzle Ships
The Cult - Love
Bucks Fizz - I Hear Talk
Culture Club - Colour By Numbers
Dead or Alive - Youthquake
Kraftwerk - Tour De France
Escape Club - Wild Wild West
Information Society - Pure Energy
Human League - Fascination
Jesus Jones - dammit forgot the title
Alarm - 68 Guns
Red Flagg - Russian Radio
Boomtown Rats - I Hate Mondays
Naked Eyes - First Album
Bananarama - Cruel Summer
Frankie Goes to Hollywood - Welcome to the Pleasure Dome
Berlin - Masquerade
Waterboys - I Hear The Sea
Love and Rockets - Confusion
The Church - Under the Milky Way
Housemartins - People Who Grinned Themselves To Death
Madness - One Step Beyond
Yazoo - Upstairs at Eric's

Devo-Whip It

Talking Heads - Stop Making Sense

The Fixx - Reach The Beach

Need the key albums from the following
The Pogues
Fine Young Cannibals

Satanists and Academy Square

Everyone claimed that satanists were having cult meetings in the old abandoned Academy Square.  Sacrificing babies, rituals, blah blah blah.  Well, I want to say that I went into the cordoned off place several times and never found any satanists.  I did find a couple kids drinking alcohol.  I supposed they could be satanists.  I found a bunch of old geometry books that may or may not have contained satanic messages.  I will admit that it was pretty cool to walk around in at night hoping you would find something.  We found a room that had some cool graffitti and what appeared to be some sort of ritualistic pentagram, but I think we can all chalk that up to some gothic misunderstood teens that really dug a lot of Anne Rice novels. 

Radio Free Provo

Like so many other poor people forced to live in dumps like Raintree Apartments, I upgraded during the summer. After my sophomore year, I decided to hang around Provo and find some work, and moved into a nice little place down on condo row south of campus. The job I found is another story, but during my off-time I loved to listen to my meager vinyl collection, of which I was very proud. I had a few rarities. I was also just getting into Ultravox and a couple other synth bands (I was late on the synth bandwagon), many of which you could only find on vinyl.

My friend Mark Allen was cleaning out his garage or something, and mentioned the fact that he had a small radio transmitter. I eagerly requested to borrow it, and after weeks of begging he finally brought it over and showed me how to use it. Basically, it was a tape deck with a long wire antennae. For those of you thinking about Christian Slater, disguised voices, and clever intros to the latest tunes on the radio -- don't get too excited. There was nothing glamorous about the whole episode. The signal was poor, at best, and was only capable of transmitting line of sight. Even across the street the signal was weak, and yet I was overly paranoid that the Feds would come crashing through my door at any moment, just like they did to Christian Slater. Alas, I doubt triangulation (neither equilateral nor isosceles) could discover my signal.

Even more pathetic was that I had to record music and voice snippets onto cassette tapes, which could then be broadcast with the transmitter and its killer 5 watt output. It was a total waste of time that kept me occupied for hours each day. But in my mind, the folks I mentioned the station to still thought I was pretty cool to have a pirate radio station.

I rode my bike all over Provo to check for a signal using my walkman, and found that while it permeated condo row and the immediate area, it barely reached main street, and could not get up onto campus save only the lower handful of buildings - but if you went inside any of them, the signal was utterly lost. So basically -- no coverage.

And here's a newsflash for those of you who may be thinking of doing this yourselves: people don't exactly stumble across your wimpy little signal of their own volition -- I made flyers, posted them all over my signal area, and told everyone I knew to tune in. How pathetic, seeing how the broadcast died as soon as the tape reached its end. I wasted a ton of time recording mixes just to sit and listen to them being broadcast on a crappy little signal which didn't even come in clear across the room. In short, what a freaking waste of time.

At least Christian Slater got the babe. All I got was a loser roommate who stuck me with a huge phone bill.

Put the needle on the record

Songs for time periods, or songs for a person. Every once in a while I will hear a song that will remind me of a place or a person, either for good or bad reasons. However, there was a song that I recently heard during a concert performed by the Pyschedelic Furs that immediately reminded me of a person from my past. Why the song reminds me of her, I'm not sure, but it just threw out images in every which way imaginable. The song, Heaven, by the Furs reminded me of Astrid, this stunning person I dated for a couple of years while at the Y. She was this petite dancer with aryan features whose ancestry comes from Norway (not this Astrid). Nicest person you could ever meet. Looking back, I probably managed to blow the whole deal and ended up breaking up with her in a semi-ugly situation which just so happen to correspond on the exact day that Christian borrowed her scooter and consequencly wrecked, see other stories related.

I can't quite remember how I met her, I think via a female friend from NY that lived in Stover Hall with her. I was kind of a chicken shite back then and finally asked her out and we hit it off very well. After about a year or two, things just sort of faded and we broke up. I remember not talking to her at all after a while and saw her about three year laters during graduation returning books. We chatted, but it was casual and that was it. One tends to wonder how you can be totally involved with someone, for years, and then just sort of stop. Funny how life works that way. She was a little kooky, but that was her charm. Ah well, ironically, I remember emailing her a while back and actually got a xmas letter from her. How time travels, married happily with kids. She deserves it. So someone call Casey Casem and dedicate Heaven to Astrid and hold your lighter up high in unison. I'll have to add some odd stories about that time period at some point. The times were a strange one indeed!!!

We're on a Road to Nowhere

Dude, I got U2 tickets (View image). Does thou needest a road trip to partake in such musical merriment? Why yes, and the trip was on (View image)It was roughly mid terms or something like that because we had to drive to San Francisco and back in a day. So we take off hoping to meet up with Tony and Ryebread and get in line, hoping to make a good spot. We stop along the way to post signs (View image) up through the Nevada Desert. Who knows why. Come to find out that Tony was shacked up already in line the night before and was literally the second person in line. We show up with food and Trivial Pursuit and wait for the day to end so we can go into the concert. Oakland Colesium. The tour was the U2 where Bono in his moment of stupid political idealism spray painted the embarcadero center fountain. Ooh, he's such a rebel. While in line, we had the entire line playing Trivial Pursuit, shouting out question and answers to the crowd. Even the legendary concert promoter Bill Graham came by to join in the fun. Concert starts, bringing in cameras (View image) we got some good shots of the Pretenders and U2 that are saved in some scrap book somewhere. We were front row middle and were crushed mercilessly for 5 hours. Concert over, we collected some clothing shrapnel. A shoe, sweater, some t-shirts, scarves and other trinkets. What happen to them is a different story for a later time, but the story contains a large block of styrofoam, a burning toilet and the Provo River. Anyway, we drove back to Utah right after the concert which was pathetically stupid. We had to stop and bury our heads in snow a couple times to keep from passing out.

Rumors - She was into field hockey players

I have often told people that the Pixies saved my life. No, not the little fairies -- the band. Summer of 88 was long and hot in Provo, and summer term while working evenings in telesales was not exactly fulfilling. I did have a nice little t-shirt business going, however, which provided some additional income and a few good laughs. My top seller was a quote by Brigham Young -- "You can go to Provo, or you can go to Hell". But I digress.

As much free time as I could muster was spent at Reptile Records (I think that was the name) down on Main Street in downtown Provo. The owners were a young couple with a toddler, her name was Sue i think, can't remember his. But we shared some very similar tastes in music (we were the only three fans of Bob Mould west of the mississippi, I think). I was listening to a lot of Ultravox and rare techno stuff at the time, and was just languishing. I mean, I love that stuff, but I needed a change. Life lacked flavor.

After having the daily conversation with Sue on life, I told her I needed something new. "Have you listened to the Pixies?" she asked. Their second album, Surfer Rosa, was relatively new, and she told me to give it try. So I purchased a copy and took it home - and instantly became a lifelong fan of Frank Black.

I know, I know -- this story is not funny. But it was a musical conversion for me. But to go from Mr. New Wave to loving the heavy, guitar-based tunes was just a major shift for me.

Thanks Sue.

Turn Around Bright Eyes

Snaggit? Oh it doesn't matter as we drifted through the Drakkar laden lads and gyrating honeys who danced to the various silly dance songs that people dug at a little dance heaven called Plastique. It was an odd time. A time before I even knew what a club guy was. I suppose we all were. There was a song called I Hear Talk by a silly group named Bucks Fizz that for some reason always got the club hopping. Never could understand it. The boy toys would be on their little cubes dancing away and the hotties would doing their thing. All a very strange moment in time. The club only lasted a few years and slowly faded out of the memory of the Y. A strange, but fun time.