Aug Stone in a still from the video for “Rachel on the Rooftops” (Photo courtesy of the artist)
Aug Stone has been making music for decades, but it wasn’t until last week that he released his first single under his own name. “Rachel on the Rooftops” is power pop-tinged rock jam that showcases the musician and author’s knack for narrative. The single also features backing vocals from Rachel Love, best known for her time in Dolly Mixture, the seminal British indie pop band that would later sing backup on Captain Sensible singles like “Happy Talk.”
“They’re one of my all time favorite bands,” says Stone of Dolly Mixture. “It’s punky in attitude, but it’s like all the great girl pop of the ‘60s. I love all those songs.”
Sam Wachman was in Romania helping to organize an English immersion camp for youth from Ukraine, drinking tea with some of the kids. A year had past since the start of the war and, after hearing their stories, he suggested they write a book. “They said, we’re busy,” he recalls, “you write it.”
Six months later, Wachman had a first draft of The Sunflower Boys, which was released on August 12. In it, a Ukrainian boy on the cusp of his teens, Artem, sees life forever changed when war comes to his hometown. After tragedy strikes his family, his priorities shift as Artem must now escape the country with his younger brother in hopes of reuniting with their father. It’s a riveting, and heartbreaking story. In fact, there are two, equally compelling stories that intertwine in The Sunflower Boys because, while Wachman was able to complete the novel after that conversation over tea, he had actually started work on what would be his debut novel before the war began.
Don’t you miss paper flyers? Here’s one for Analog Outlaw happening on Saturday, June 28 at 2220 Arts + Archives in L.A.
The first thing I heard while roaming the stalls at Analog Outlaw Book and Record Fair last September was “Wicked,” a Psychic TV track that came out at the cusp of the 1980s and 1990s. It’s this seemingly endless, loopy acid house number— I hesitate to call it a song— that appeals to a very specific kind of weirdo who collects the fruits of the Throbbing Gristle family tree and spends their free time reading about cults and psychedelics and psychedelic cults. So, if you’re that type of weirdo and you hear “Wicked” out in the wild, you know you’ve found your people.
And, yes, dear reader, I did find my people that day. Organized by Bibliomancers and Nooners Books, Analog Outlaw is a counterculture physical media marketplace. At the inaugural event, held at Zebulon last year, vendors from vintage issues of Rolling Stone to Goblin on vinyl and Frankenhooker on VHS to paperback porn. Mark Webber from Pulp was on hand to sign copies of his book, I’m With Pulp, Are You? I can’t even remember how many club pals I ran into that day. It was one of those events where you spend half the time hunting for treasure and the other half showing your friends what you found.
Inside ArtCenter for Printed Matter’s L.A. Art Book Fair (Pic: Liz O.)
In a world ruled by tech bros and geriatric shitposters, going to a book fair is subversive af. Think about it. You have to actually stop scrolling and go to an IRL location. When you’re there, you’ll flip through print publications that weren’t recommended by an algorithm. You might purchase some of them too. You may even read them, an act that would require you to divert your eyes from screens teeming with slop and rage posts and ads— so many ads!— and all the other garbage that makes rich dudes richer and the rest of us broke and miserable.
Certainly, I’m not the only person who thinks reading paper > reading screens because Printed Matter’s L.A. Art Book Fair was slammed on Sunday afternoon. Now, this is a long-running, well-attended event. In fact, I wrote about the size of the crowd on this very blog two years ago. But, the weekend-long indie and DIY book extravaganza has since moved from MOCA’s Geffen Contemporary to ArtCenter’s South Campus in Pasadena. It appeared to be a bigger venue, given all the rooms at the art school that were in use, but it was still overflowing with people. There were corners of some exhibit halls where crowds were so thick that they were virtually impassible, but that might have had more to do with the layout than the amount of people.
Just wanted to give you a quick update about some stories that I’ve recently written for other magazines and newspapers.
Now is a good time to watch a movie. At least it is if you’re in the greater Los Angeles area, where repertory and arthouse cinemas are experiencing a revival. I wrote about the resurgence of in-person movie screenings, focusing mainly on Philosophical Research Society in Los Feliz and The Frida Cinema in Santa Ana for Premium, which is the magazine Southern California News Group newspaper subscribers. Click here for a gift link to read the story.
Reading Love You Madly, Holly Woodlawn on the L.A. Metro (Pic: Liz O.)
In 1991, Holly Woodlawn released her autobiography, A Low Life in High Heels, written with Jeff Copeland. I haven’t read the book, but it’s high at the top of my list now that I have read Copeland’s recently-released Love You Madly, Holly Woodlawn. The writer’s own memoir is a funny, sweet and engaging story about an unexpected, and sometimes tumultuous, L.A. friendship at the turn of the 1990s. What I loved about this memoir is how Copeland deftly intertwines a story about HOLLYWOOD, as in the movie world, with Hollywood, as in the place.
Woodlawn, who died a decade ago, was best known as the Holly in Lou Reed’s hit, “Walk on the Wild Side.” She was an Andy Warhol superstar who appeared in films like Trash and Women in Revolt. By the late ‘80s, she was living on the West Coast and not exactly in the best place in her life. Copeland was a young writer from Missouri who had moved to L.A. with hopes of breaking into the film industry. Their friendship resulted in A Low Life in High Heels and would be strained, in part, as a result of attempts to turn Woodlawn’s autobiography into a film, which never happened. That’s the HOLLYWOOD part of the story.
