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…and occasional rock star Sean Nelson’s got a handy guide to the worst movie endings ever.
…this totally fictional (for now) ad would show up. (I found it at Seattlest; it’s been poppin’ up all over the local blog-O-sphere.)
As far as reality, there’s little more to report Croc-wise. The joint’s still closed. Stephanie Dorgan, its owner these past 16 years, isn’t talking to the media. At least one potential new ownership group has apparently shown up, but a lot of behind-the-scenes haggling would need to be done. Shows had been booked at the Croc into January (some touring gigs had been booked into next April); new venues or cancellations will be announced one show at a time.
I’m trying to figure what to say about the beloved, loud, crowded Croc, it of the tasty bar grub and the long lines, the way past-their-pull-date ceiling hangings and the exterior windows still (partly) commemorating the place’s 10th anniversary in 2001. The opening party for Loser took place there in 1995; I took care to place hand-scrawled signs at the door, warning that it wasn’t a secret Pearl Jam show.
I fell in love several times in that building, and out of love at least once. Darn, I hope someone figures out how to revive the place.
Tacoma’s own Ventures, kings of instro surf-pop lo all these years, have got their totally deserved berth in the Rock n’ Roll Hall O’ Fame.
…a certain ex-Seattleite you know, is living the not-so-high life in London, eating a macrobiotic diet (but still smoking Marlboros), hiring Orlando Bloom’s Buddhist chanting instructor, and hanging out with the Stings.
…longingly wishes, “I’m only sorry Kurt Cobain left us before he could give the world his Christmas album.”
(Actually, Cobain did a solo guitar track on a William Burroughs holiday-related spoken word EP.)
I’m on “special assignment” the rest of this week. That’s right, another marathon temp gig. I’ll report when I can.
UPDATE: Karen Hansen has some newer info about the late local rock singer Ian Fisher:
“Earlier this evening, I got a call from Jack Hanan, long-time friend and former bass player of the Cowboys. Jack had spoken with Ian’s brother and relayed the following:Ian Fisher had a heart attack in his beach hut in Thailand, in the company of friends (not on a bus) . His body has been cremated, per Ian’s wishes, and we’re not sure if he is in Seattle yet or not. His ashes will be scattered in San Diego and Aberdeen. A memorial event, complete with a big jam session, is in the planning and we’ll keep you posted on the date.”
“Earlier this evening, I got a call from Jack Hanan, long-time friend and former bass player of the Cowboys. Jack had spoken with Ian’s brother and relayed the following:Ian Fisher had a heart attack in his beach hut in Thailand, in the company of friends (not on a bus)
.
His body has been cremated, per Ian’s wishes, and we’re not sure if he is in Seattle yet or not. His ashes will be scattered in San Diego and Aberdeen.
A memorial event, complete with a big jam session, is in the planning and we’ll keep you posted on the date.”
…word’s gotten out that former local rock singer Ian Fisher of the Cowboys has died in Thailand. Further details are scarce at this time.
Fisher and his band were anomalies in the pre-“Seattle Scene” Seattle scene. Back in the early 1980s, local rock bands that sought commercial success played covers of big hits in big bars. Bands that insisted on writing their own material were stuck with far fewer, far smaller venues, and catered to the more specialized tastes of the “alternative” crowd. The Cowboys created their own image and their own music (albeit heavily influenced by the likes of the Knack and the reggae-era Clash). They aspired to, and got into, the big clubs. They didn’t tour much, and never got a national record contract. But Fisher got to live the rock star image, and flamboyantly did so for nearly a decade.
IN MUCH MORE PREDICTABLE NEWS, Clay Bennett did what everybody said he would do from day one, despite his claims that he wouldn’t. He said he intends to move the Sonics to Oklahoma City.
But it’s not a sure thing, despite the fatalistic mumblings of some local fair-weather fans.
There will be legal wrangling.
There will be local potential buyers.
There already are save-the-team booster groups.
There are the hearts and souls of everyone who remembers the Sonics in their ’70s and ’90s primes, who knows the Storm’s more recent triumphs, who knows what a team can do to bring families and communities together.
And we have people who see the sport’s changing economics.
The NBA’s business model, as we’ve said before, is way broken.
The influx of cable TV rights money has peaked or will peak soon, as total viewership declines and fractures among ever-more viewing choices.
As the upward centralization of wealth in America continues, there will be only so many zillionaires to buy luxury boxes and corporate suites.
What’s left for teams to pay superstar salaries from? Shoe endorsements? Team-logo mouse pads?
Pro b-ball needs to stabilize, around its home towns.
It needs to again be a sport of fan loyalty, of community outreach, of human-scale, street-level attention. In this sense, the NBA needs to become more like the WNBA.
And for that to work, the league has to give up on the short-term fixes of subsidized arenas and threats to move. It needs, as Ross Perot or someone said, to “dance with the one that brung ya,” the fans and cities who grew up with the sport.
…of these already, but there’s a need for another benefit concert for a musician who doesn’t have health insurance. This time, it’s our ol’ pal and Fastbacks/Visqueen legend Kim Warnick. She’s come down with something that landed her in a hospital, and we’ve gotta help her out. The usual parade of local music all stars and major raffle prizes will occur Tuesday, Oct. 30 at the new Cha Cha Lounge, 1013 E. Pike.
As more new-music pioneers like Warnick enter the golden years, we’ll have to hold more and more of these benefits. Unless we get our politicians off their collective posteriors and establish a sane health-care system in this land.
Death Cab for Cutie guitarist Chris Walla digitally recorded his first solo album in Vancouver. A recording-studio employee was bringing the finished tracks to Seattle when U.S. border agents seized the hard drive. The hereby-linked AP story says “some music publications hinted” the dispute might have been due to the “politically charged” content on the album. Walla discounts this conspiracy theorizing, noting the agents let tape copies of the songs go through. Barsuk Records says Walla’s album, Field Manual, will be out in January. The feds still haven’t returned the hard drive.