Initially, Name Dropping was described to me as a loose tour diary chronicling the (mis)adventures of one man as he zipped around North America handling/babysitting a band of friends as he quickly found himself graduating/being demoted to their employ. Another heads-up later pointed out the book was more about that fateful nomad’s experience in various music industry capacities, including as journalist and editor. With both of the above being themes I can relate to and get down with, I jumped at the opportunity to read Jameson Ketchum’s perspective and experience. Behind-the-scenes tour and industry stories are always a good time while you’re squeezing one out on the ol’ Thomas Crapper.
When I caught notice of the author’s name I was further moved to tuck into his quarter-life crisis memoir because I’m convinced we both freelanced for Alternative Press around the same time. However at no time in Name Dropping does he mention ever writing for AP, so maybe I’m hallucinating. At the same time, there can’t be that many Jameson Ketchums on the planet, let alone Jameson Ketchums running in similar circles to me, can there? (Turns out we wrote for Outburn at the same time.) Anyhoo, as I dug into the first few pages, I quickly realized a couple of glaring issues put into play.
Allow me to preface this by saying I put in some work to minimize the emerging biases; that those biases are all mine, which I own up to, and attempted to not have them cloud my enjoyment of the book and my judgement of it. But, it quickly became obvious during the foreword that Ketchum (and by extension, his book about himself) hails from the faith-based side of the music spectrum, specifically Christian rock and God-bothering emo punk. On the opposite end of the spectrum, sits me: someone who in no way believes there’s a bearded man in the sky giving one absolute flying fuck about what any of the 7+ billion people on this planet are doing or thinking. Actually, I’m of the belief that the man-made construct of religion is responsible for more destruction, war, famine, inequality, prejudice, misery, strife, social havoc and political discord than anything else in the history of forever.
A younger, less tolerant me might have chucked Name Dropping clear across the room and into the fireplace at the first mention of suburban melodic punk and emo bands tearing across the country, playing their painfully mediocre music in the name of self-aggrandizing moral superiority and the twisting of the rock concert into ministry (Hank Hill had a point when he said, “You’re not making Christianity better, you’re making rock and roll worse”), but there were behind the scenes stories to be had. Also, his and my idea of what constitutes punk rock and heavy music are miles apart. But, Ketchum’s writing style is bright and quick on the draw. His use of snappy, peppy sentences and often humorous off-the-cuff non-sequiturs and interjections kept me engaged enough to push the organized faith undercurrent and divergent musical tastes/opinions aside.
What followed was a look back at Ketchum’s discovery of music, its meaning, power, place and impact as he moved through the stages of life, discovery and the business. Throughout his time as a budding reviewer/interviewer, intern, freelancer and staffer/writer at various music publications, non-profit employee, podcaster, photographer and whatever else, he’s had multiple experiences with artists and musicians. He’s also dealt with the publicists and handlers who organize, wrangle and glad-hand the egos of the people you listen to (and eventually) see on stage every night. He writes with excited aplomb, but not in excruciating detail, about the process of pitching features and reviews, interview assignments, tracking down PR people, prep work, the actual interviews themselves and the pride he experiences in churning out pieces and seeing his name in print.
Here’s where the title really becomes applicable as Ketchum writes about who he knows and has met, dropping name after name after name and the details surrounding which bands/performers he’s been in the presence of. There’s a lot of fawning hero worship here. On the one hand, it’s a sign of how much deep impact those comprising the soundtrack to his life have made. On the other, it often screams of a “look at me” braggadocio where he appears to be writing to impress while simultaneously exhibiting an air of desperation at proving his belonging as part of the scene. Then again, it could be precisely this rink-rat mentality that has allowed him to make a contributing mark. He does come across as a very “won’t take no for an answer” type of individual, if not a bit of a nag, but that’s the sort of go-getting, self-promoting, eat-shit-until-it-doesn’t-taste-like-shit drive someone needs to make it in a scene where devaluation and saturation have come to clog up every pore.
In many ways, this particular hack can relate to the journalism process as I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember, but there are times when Ketchum’s recounting is more him showing off his Rolodex or contacts list than providing stories with any real substance. But it says so right on the cover, so I don’t know what I was expecting? Honestly, I would have preferred more tour story adventures from his time on the road as writing a book about the process of writing isn’t the most exciting of subject matter, unless you can intimately relate.
But the biggest failing of Name Dropping is that the book doesn’t have a clearly defined purpose. Ketchum himself says in not-so-many words in the introduction that even he doesn’t know what this book is and where its appeal lies. It’s part biographical recollection with wispy self-help tendrils that becomes more and more about industry anecdotes with little to no narrative, a shaky chronology and a quizzical conclusion.
After the umpteenth declaration about the power of music and the role it’s played in getting him to where he is today, Name Dropping falls into the same category as most biographies by people the general public hasn’t heard of: it’s not clear how and why it applies to the average Joe on the street unless you’re really invested in the author and their accomplishments. In many ways, this book runs parallel to a band releasing a live album or reissuing their entire catalogue. Chances are if you’re not already familiar or a fan of the source material, there’s not a lot to relate to or care about. I had flashbacks to how, when my kid was school-aged and it was time for Take Your Kid to Work Day, he disqualified me from his prospective list because “All you do is sit in your office in front of your computer and listen to music all day.” Being the dedicated music lifer he is, I imagine this is something the ankle-biters in Ketchum’s future will be saying of him as well. And at least he’ll have this book to thrust at them and say, “Yeah, so? Check it out.”
Author: Jameson Ketchum
Publisher: RhetAskew Publishing
Release Date: July 22, 2021
Format/Length: Paperback, 268 pages
“Apotropaic Beatnik Graffiti” by Mark Mothersbaugh [Book Review]
‘Apotropaic Beatnik Graffiti’ (Blank Industries) is a fascinating trip into the mind of a unique artist, Mark Mothersbaugh.
Mark Mothersbaugh’s Apotropaic Beatnik Graffiti is a book like no other; no argument. At first glance, a volume of over 500 identical images of a pair of stylized, staring brown eyes, with a distinctively retro (1960s) feel. Each image of the eyes is adorned by Motherbaugh’s daily graffiti (sometimes more than one a day).
That the artist feels the need to add a guide telling us how to view the book suggests that it is not there to be merely dipped into, but the repetition of the pieces also makes it hard to plan a prolonged session in its company. This would possibly suggest an element of self-indulgence on his part, but this is art, where self-indulgence becomes artistic licence. Nobody is forcing you to look into these eyes.
Mothersbaugh is better known as a member of DEVO, the Ohio new wave band who, despite forming in the early ’70s, became known as a product of the ’80s due to their cult hit “Whip It” in 1980. Their appearance, usually in overalls with red cone hats, pointedly staring at the camera, provided a Stateside version of Kraftwerk and fiercely promoted ideas of pop art, surrealism, and Dadaism. If this book can be considered an extension of the DEVO movement, it might make more sense, or maybe it should be viewed as its own mysterious entity.
Various prefaces to the actual artwork provide some context, particularly the artist’s admission that he has always, in whatever capacity, been partially sighted, which has affected his view on life and, therefore, his art, be that in music or visuals. Whilst the daubing on each page, a mixture of seemingly random statements and comic book figures certainly tick the boxes of Beatnik graffiti, the apotropaic element may need more exposition.
Mothersbaugh attempts to put pay to the common assumption that the concept of the Evil Eye is purely evil and puts forth how it can also be a method of warding off evil spirits. Therefore, looking into these artificial eyes can perhaps provide the reader with a healing or cleansing process whilst providing entertainment at a more base level. Some of the images are genuinely funny, while others raise questions and set up food for thought.
A story is offered before the journey begins of a pirate entering a beatnik-strewn café in the ’60s, revealing his evil eye from behind his eye patch, only to be challenged by the waitress who keeps the evil eye in her pants. Their face-off opens up a time tunnel to 2017 when Mothersbaugh first revealed this project. So, the humour is intentional.
Random dips into the book see a left eye warning, “Stay away from the Bassline, it’s far too funky for this,” whilst the right calls out,“Shall we Roll?” Often, the eyes are in their own conflict.
Much like Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit book, this can be taken as a design for life if the reader chooses to go that far. “Watch your step, choose your weapon, then employ it, baby!” or “Try not to crumple that banana” might be sound advice, but “Did anyone see you come in? Look no further Fool!” may be an invite into some illicit behaviour. Solid soundbites and all.
The Americana of the images remains in the past with comic strip-style characters, seemingly ripped from 1960s funny pages, veering into the grotesque body horror of Robert Crumb at times and becoming gynecological in detail when the need arises. But mainly, the drawings are easy on the eye, re-delivering Mad Men-esque sloganeering from a lost age and placing them in a contemporary mindset.
Whether the artist is creating a targeted homage to Dadaism through his stream-of-consciousness ramblings, or merely opening his mind and inviting you to look into and beyond his eyes is up to the reader to decide. Either way, this is a fascinating trip into the mind of a unique artist.
Mark Mothersbaugh’s Apotropaic Beatnik Graffiti is available from big.cartel.com for $60 and is a thing of beauty.
Author: Mark Mothersbaugh
Publisher: Blank Industries
Release Date: March 12, 2024
Format/Length: Hardcover, 548 pages
“The Fascinating Adventures of Little Bee” by Beans On Toast [Children’s Book Review]
‘The Fascinating Adventures of Little Bee’ is a brilliant series, with classic topics ranging from dinosaurs to the moon being offered up to readers with a range of ways to engage and play along with each book.
UK artist Beans on Toast recently released The Fascinating Adventures of Little Bee, a combo children’s book series and album. I’m a sucker for a series. More so when it comes to kids’ books. Call me a completionist, or maybe I just like the look of it on a nursery wall, but there’s something rewarding about having a full run of a children’s lit series. What’s better is when they’re a series you’re genuinely excited to read with your kid.
I was delighted by the disarming charm of the folksy collage-meets-illustration artwork, the handwritten lettering, and the stories themselves. The titular character sports a colander hat, bee-coloured shirt and shoes, and an ever-present look of delight and wonder. The art feels whimsical and accessible, as do the stories. Every book has something different to offer: “Little Bee Goes To The City” is a reflection on diversity, while “Little Bee Goes To The Woods” serves up the wisdom of patience as its setting’s lesson. Each destination offers up similarly well-coupled themes, and each of them is clever, effortless, and fun to read.
Folk singer and author Beans On Toast says in writing the series, “I feel like kid’s books are very similar to folk songs. They’re simple, to the point, with a message about being kind to the world and its people.” To that end, they succeeded in telling simple songs, but there’s so much more to them. For starters, each story is a different song, literally: every book has a different way of playing along to the book in a tune, whether it be guitar, ukelele, piano or any of a myriad of other ways to play along to the rhythmic, sing-song lilt of the words.
In addition, each book has a “Where is Bee?” section, asking kids to search for Little Bee among a scene consisting of characters from the previous pages. Equally clever is the addition of interesting facts about the theme in each book – this is great for kids who are older and able to grapple with the interesting trivia about each setting. It means there are other ways to keep kids engaged. And as with all books for kids, if your young ’un doesn’t like a particular section, it just takes a flip of the page to move on to the parts they do.
It also needs to be said the colours of the various books are visually pleasing. Each chromatic selection is underscored by textures appropriate to each theme (e.g., pockmarked earth rendered in luminescent yellow for “Little Bee Goes To The Moon,” clouds swirling under carnation pink on “Little Bee Goes To An Imaginary World,” etc.), and the variety of colours on display really lets the series stand out.
The Fascinating Adventures of Little Bee is a brilliant series, with classic topics ranging from dinosaurs to the moon being offered up to readers with a range of ways to engage and play along with each book. It’s a series I’ve purchased for my little guy, and I look forward to sharing it with him time and time again.
“To The Sea”
“To The Woods”
“To The City”
“Back In Time”
“To An Imaginary World”
“To A Gig”
Author: Beans On Toast, Jaime & Lilly
Publisher: Play on Words Publishing
Release Date: December 1, 2022
Format/Length: Paperback, 290 pages
“The Ballad of Buttery Cake Ass” by Aug Stone [Book Review]
The Ballad of Buttery Cake Ass reads like it was written by Douglas Adams if he was raised in a record shop by Monty Python and Kurt Vonnegut.
There’s something about lost media that stirs something in us these days. How often do we get frustrated when something we search for doesn’t immediately materialize with that Wiki blurb, some pics and links to socials? Unless that grid of related info pops up, we feel we’ve suddenly stumbled into the ethereal realm, the Flammarion Engraving writ digital. That experience, though, is one of the few remaining remnants of a past we can never again replicate. In the absence of fact, we’re left with the word of others. This bygone reliance on word-of-mouth folklore is how Aug Stone’s The Ballad of Buttery Cake Ass (grab your copy here) unfolds, speaking in tales within tales, a cornucopia of simulacra that gets more and more layered.
The tale begins like phyllo pastry in a cold oven; things heat up as the narrator and his friend prod witnesses about the origins of the titular band in their Hero’s pursuit of BCA’s long-lost vinyl, Live In Hungaria. I have one quibble with Stone’s story: how long it takes that metaphorical oven to heat up. The witticisms, puns and wordplay that saturate the beginning chapters act like harsh feedback at the beginning of a track, challenging the reader’s endurance while the story gets its bearings.
But once the narrator and co. finish covering the lengthy background behind the band’s name, the tone and humour lock into place, and the narrative shines. The wordplay and asides suddenly gain meaning, and with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it urgency, the plot and humour achieve balance, and the book reaches a calibre that only gets more powerful as it unfolds. Just a few chapters in, I realized: The Ballad of Buttery Cake Ass reads as if Douglas Adams wrote it if he was raised in a record shop by Monty Python and Kurt Vonnegut. It’s an exposition by way of music culture; comedy by way of absurdism; narrative via forgotten tales and distant memories.
Along the way are countless musical references that delight with their obscurity: Cabaret Voltaire, Cleaners From Venus, Fugazi, even a nod to Aquarius Records along the way, all while Stone progressively turns the dial up on the intensity of Buttery Cake Ass’ fateful demise. A slew of fictional bands, artists, musicians, and acts and even a hilariously robust discography are sprinkled throughout the mix. The layers of false media and fake references, on top of all the obscure ones, lend legitimacy to them, fooling the reader (at least this one) on more than one occasion. “Nigel Dinks? Never heard of him, let’s see who- ah,” I mumble as I search for a musician who never existed. Well done, Stone – well done.
By the time the story reaches its conclusion, a theme emerges that I suspect only those who are starting to approach middle age and older will appreciate. The dreams, hopes, and lofty ambitions of artists met with the chaos of life’s circumstances hit home. Chances are good that you and I, reader, will go through this life without becoming famous, and crucially, as the book points out in its closing pages, that’s perfectly fine. Go and live your life, play your heart out, and follow where your heart takes you. If it means you become a wildlife preservationist instead of a big-time record producer or a session musician who gets to have regular work but live in relative obscurity, that’s great.
The Ballad of Buttery Cake Ass thumbs its nose in the face of the attention superstructure, delighting in the experience of sleeping under pinball machines and releasing records that no one outside of a handful will ever hear. “Get over yourself,” Aug Stone tells us, “and chase after the things that delight you and capture your imagination.” Do it without care for the result, do it with wild abandon. Do it, and be content with telling the stories you make along the way to the select few who will listen. You reach a time in your life when you get a chance to go from reckless abandon into an obscure, fulfilling life, and if you listen closely, you can hear your magnum opus beneath the static. Who knows, maybe a couple of kids some day will grow obsessed with what you managed to do, and you’ll be humbled when they fight for decades to get their hands on something you made once upon a time.
Author: Aug Stone
Publisher: Stone Soup
Release Date: February 9, 2023
Format/Length: Paperback, 270 pages
Hardcore/Punk6 days ago
The Menzingers Wrap Up Their UK Tour with a Punk Party at Manchester Academy [Photos]
Hardcore/Punk1 week ago
Malevolence Dish Out a Metallic Hardcore Beatdown at Liverpool’s O2 Academy [Photos]
Alternative/Rock2 weeks ago
Enter Shikari Blow Minds and Senses at Leeds First Direct Arena [Photos]
Dance/Electronic1 week ago
Vsoundz and Leng Lewn Premiere Their High-Decibel Single “Waiting In Spring”
Music2 weeks ago
Ricky Martin, Enrique Iglesias & Pitbull Own Oklahoma City’s Paycom Center [Photos]
Alternative/Rock1 week ago
Pearl Jam Announce ‘Dark Matter’ Album Details and World Tour
Alternative/Rock4 days ago
The V13 Fix #004 w/ Darkest Hour, Glitterer, LowLives and more
Metal1 week ago
Dragonforce Unveil Power Metal Reworking of Taylor Swift “Wildest Dreams” Hit