Hosing Down
  • A Child’s Garden of Vinyl

    The complaint this time has to do with lists, specifically ones that use the word Best or Greatest in their names. The Best Songs of the Eighties. The Best American Cities to Live in (I guess In Which to Live is too confusing to Americans). Rolling Stone’s The 100 Greatest Albums of All Time. TV […]

  • This Is No Parasite

    Earlier this year, I expressed my ongoing grief concerning the absence of my dear friend Tower Records. The years go on and the dreams don’t stop; the void in my life sometimes feels as significant as if it were another of my human friends who make up such a distressingly large congregation of the dead. […]

  • Scary Sharing

    Hose, this is your conscience. You’re getting too far out there. Try to share. Try building a rapport with your reader. After all, when it comes to reality, we’re all singing the same song. You know, you and I have a lot in common. One of the greatest things is our shared good fortune to […]

  • Fifty Junes Ago, Part Two

    June 1967. That month, half a century ago, decided it was time to kick some ass and show the world how things should be done. It was well up to both tasks and performed services to music that resulted in songs and events that, right out of the gate, seemed to glow with an essence […]

  • Strawberry Fields for 50 Years

    My memory has been a remarkable friend for as long as I can remember, which is a remarkably long time. But the price I must pay for that friendship is quite dear: when it brings up bad actions I have committed and horrible choices I have made, I must vividly experience them once again and […]

  • How Hip-Hop and Rap Will Save the World

    April fool. But seriously, folks: I’m actually writing this just a few hours before the official advent of spring and have been ruminating on purification and rebirth and other things that seem to go with the season. Like second chances and forgiveness, budding flowers, infant smiles, caresses of the sunlight, and the glory of naked […]

  • She Was Great in “Goldmember”

    President Von Clownstick himself is not, of course, the sole indicator of the true depth of the decline of Western Civilization. He should be regarded as more of a fountainhead (or more accurately, a sewage clog); a symbol, the nauseating face on the dust jacket of our Tome of Woe. Was ever so vile a […]

  • Diversions from Disaster

    The January 12th edition of the venerable San Diego Reader contained an interview with yours truly (along with a colorful, kissable photograph) and I am grateful for the positive response I have received from so many of you in your letters and in person, when we’ve bumped into each other at the odd antique mall […]

  • Running for Covers

    Terry Daktyll’s pale, flute-thin arm reaches up to put another cassette into the empty mouth of the VCR. It’s a recent set-closing performance of David Bowie’s “Rock and Roll Suicide,” shot in early June at a very in spot on the Sunset Strip. The camera work is quite good, the two-camera setup well edited, and […]

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